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Everyone knew I had the biggest crush on Al. Not just our entire class, but the rest of the student body and the school administration. After all, it’s the principal’s nephew we’re talking about. In high school, there were teachers who participated in their students’ Joe D’Mango love drama through subtle teasing and even deliberately pairing up students who were already couples or at least those who looked like it in class.

When classes resumed that November, teachers paired up Al and his girlfriend in almost every class thing, and every time they would call out the pairs, everyone would turn to look at me as if I was the biggest loser in history. Their faces told me everything I already knew: Poor Veronica transformed herself for naaaaaaaahthiiiiing.

I wanted to cry all those months. It was a blessing that projects piled up in second semester and most of them were book reports. I must have read every Greek tragedy ever written and made lengthy, bloody reviews of each. That was when I first realized that angst is a good motivation for writing.

It’s not that I have lost my friends. Nicia hated me for her suspension and month-long house arrest, naturally. Mai was too into her boyfriend that she didn’t have time to nurse ill feelings. Zhe was busy shooting hoops for the women’s basketball team, while Gail had her own relationship drama to deal with. For most of junior high, I was alone with my thoughts. I spent most of my time in the library just so I could study in silence.

One time, I decided to sneak up to the high school building’s rooftop during free period. That place was off-limits to most students, but of course, being the student council president gave me special privileges.

I loved that place because of the view and the steady breeze that always soothed me whenever I felt like cracking from peer pressure. I often read a book there, while Mark’s voice boomed from three floors down every now and then.

That day, however, my thoughts weren’t disrupted by unwelcome teenage squeals. Instead, I heard guitar strings plucking to the tune of a song I’ve always loved.

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