Interim Goddess of Love (4 page)

The guy he tapped stood up and pushed
Diego back. God of the sea or no, I would have thought that was the wrong move. Anyone who had been in this school longer than a semester would have heard of Diego's temper, and known that he was always the winner in any fight, and had never yet been disciplined or sanctioned for his behavior. I used to believe, like the rest of the student body, that he was related to the founders of the school and untouchable. Why even bother? Maybe they liked getting their asses -- and torsos -- kicked.

He looked scared, this guy. But we were all watching now, and Diego had so publicly challenged him. He gave in to his fight response.

Diego smiled. He was waiting for something like this to happen. I didn't see the punch but heard it, because I looked away. Knowing that Diego was a bit more than a regular college guy made these hijinks seem even more unnecessary. Then I heard a scuffle, more swearing, and everyone's eyes traveled back to the cafeteria doors, watching Quin and another person drag Diego back out, kicking and screaming.

And then the show was over.

Sol shrugged and smiled at me. "See? I like the hothead. He's not a statue. Who was that other guy?"

"
I think it was Robbie. Their other friend." Not a god, as far as I knew.

"
He's cute," Sol said, craning her neck, hoping for another look. "He'd be the guy who gets a solo every now and then, but not always."

That was the guy
I
usually liked. Except
Quin chose me, so there.

"
Anyway," Sol shook off that drama with a shrug and turned to me. "Where was I?"

"
Diego."

"
Before that."

"
I look pretty today."

"
Before that."

"
Day of Hearts
the movie is coming out soon."

"
Oh my God! I'm so excited. I hate the casting, but Ivy Mira Alonzo agrees with it, so who am I argue with the author, right?"

I shrugged.
"I'm not familiar with the book."

"
I'll lend it to you. Or let's watch the movie together. Let's make a Valentine's Day date out of it. And if it sucks then I'll lend you the book so it can redeem itself. But before that, what were we talking about?"

"
You have decided to go on a real date this year."

"
Ah yes." She tried to get back on that original train of thought, although she didn't have to. (I picked up the gist with the goddess power within five minutes of her talking.) "Not that my mom will let me yet, but she's in Naga. She can take a plane if she wants to stop me."

"
I thought she was okay with you dating when you turned eighteen?"

"
She was okay with
group
dating. Which is not a milestone, it's something I do every day."

I laughed.
"You don't 'group date' everyday."

"
I sit at a table and have a meal with boys all the time," Sol said, pointing to the very end of our cafeteria spot, where three freshmen boys were sharing a plate of fries. "This is not dating."

Despite being the gorgeous person she was, Sol did not date. In freshman year it was because she wasn
't over her ex-boyfriend yet. At the time she thought the only reason they had broken up was because she decided to go to Ford River. Later she found out that he had stayed in their hometown because he was interested in another girl who
didn't
go away to college. So Soledad Delloro learned that there was no use mourning that relationship and decided to take toddler steps toward the next one.

"
Your mom's just freaking out because she knows you'll be dating all these rich fancy Manila boys and she can't do anything about it."

"
Come on, don't take my mother's side," she said. "But you're right."

Though I had the power to
look into her heart, I chose -- and tried -- not to do it when I talked to Sol. I didn't want her to be one of my projects just yet, and listening to her talk about this was part of the best friend job description anyway.

I am looking at my feet, and I am thinking,
"My feet are nice."

And this is why I know that I am in a dream.

The other clue would be that I am apparently standing really close to a waterfall, and yet I can hear nothing but muted running water. I am maintaining perfect balance on smooth round stones, with clear, cool, and strangely still water up to my ankles. My skirt is pretty; it's got an intricate woven pattern in several shades of red.

Quin is standing next to me, and we
've been talking for a while. Except he doesn't look like Quin, not that I could describe him anyway. And I'm not calling him by that name either. He is telling me something, and I am commenting as if I know what he is talking about.

"
…not my problem," Quin is saying. "I specifically didn't want to be part of this."

"
I've reached the end of what I can do," are the words that came out. Except the words are not in English, or Filipino, but a lyrical one I don't recognize.

"
Father says what?"

"
He says I should let you decide."

I sense his anger,
and frustration. I can barely see his face, and yet I know this. The anger seems sharp. But it is not directed at me, and in fact I feel safer than I've ever been my entire life.

I feel a little giddy, even.

But I don't seem to be disoriented, despite the unfamiliar surroundings. Usually my dreams are set in places I know, but this is too bright, too green, too quiet to be anywhere I've been.

"
You know how I am going to rule on this," he says.

"
It's the same way I would," I say.

"
Then why should I be part of it?"

"
Because Aman will not fight you."

Quin is not convinced by this. He doesn
't care.

"
Your father wants you to protect me," I say. "Because Aman will destroy me if I intervene. You know he can."

The water at my feet starts to rise.
I lift one foot, just to make sure that it's mine, and touch the water's edge with a toe. I see that Quin is holding – has been holding – my hand.

That explains the giddy.

"I won't let him hurt you," he says.

A
bright light shines directly into my eyes.

I wake up.

After five minutes of just looking up at the ceiling, I flexed each of my toes and fingers (everything worked). It was not the first time that Quin had a lead role in one of my dreams. But for the first time, I wasn't sure if the female lead was me. I didn't seem nearly as confident, or mature, or… goddessy.

He did say I would start having dreams. Remembering things that never happened to me. Maybe this was someone else
's memory of Quin?

Well hello
there, jealousy.

I still wasn't sure what exactly Quin could do (apart from the light tricks) given his role in the universe and all that, but I did know he had the Power of Great Timing.

I couldn
't even count the times last year when he showed up inviting me to the cafeteria or the coffee shop just as I realized I was hungry. Or when I just needed company, like that time when I assisted during entrance exam week and had to wait until past seven, because I had to be available for errands the whole time. That could have just been me waiting in front of an exam room for hours, but instead my memory of it included a coffee run with Quin and telling him about my high school prom while we collated handouts.

After a while that kind of thing just happened so often that I thought it couldn
't be a coincidence, that he was actually seeking me out. I guess that was true.

Hmph.
I couldn't decide yet if knowing that made the entire year more, or less, special.

After talking to Kathy, I decided that my first course of action would be to talk to the people manning the mail service and get them to snitch on Kathy
's Secret Santa. I made the mistake of telling Quin this. A summary of the phone conversation that took three hours:

Quin:
You're not here to find out who sent her the book, like it's a mystery and that's the big revelation
.

Me:
I'm not?

Quin:
You're here to find out who she loves and who loves her. The gift business is a distraction.

Me:
I don't agree. That was the event that made her come to me.

Quin:
Trust me, Hannah, it's not about who sent her the gift. It's all about her reaction to it. If you want her to find love, you look at the people who might love her. Then you'll find the person who took that leap and acted on it.

Me:
You mean I have to do this the hard way and talk to what could be dozens of people, instead of just the one person who knows for sure who sent her the gift.

Quin:
You're dealing with emotions. You have to be thorough.

Anyway, on that Wednesday afternoon as I walked to the mini bleachers by the all-purpose sports field, I was thinking that maybe I should meet up with Quin, but of course he was already there.

He was sitting on the flat seat, about four rows up, illustration board (black side up) balanced on his lap like a tray. On top of it was a lump of red clay and it seemed to be troubling him.

"
What the--?" I said, taking a nearby seat one row higher.

"
Philosophy teacher wants us to mold this into something
that represents our being
," Quin said.

"
That should be easy for you."

"
I don't really want to clue them in on my being."

"
The teachers here can be
so
touchy feely," I said sympathetically. I'd been in classes where teachers started off the day with a sharing session (like show and tell but just the tell), or a personality test, or a quick discussion on celebrity gossip. I was told that it was because of a memo from the admin that they should "strive to get to know the students as people." It made the cool teachers cooler, and the others look like they were trying too hard. Or just creepy. A ball of clay to "represent your being" was trying too hard.

As he pinched and rolled the clay tentatively, I looked out onto the running track to check out my actual purpose for being there -- Carson Garcia.
In the interest of being "thorough."

"
Do you know him?" I asked Quin.

"
I think Diego beat up one of his friends one time. I've never really talked to him."

Carson
wasn't a team sport kind of guy. I watched as he warmed up for his run around the track.

"
He's Kathy's best guy friend," I explained. "When I asked her who she thinks could be her secret admirer, she said she had absolutely no idea."

"
Did you believe her?"

"
Of course I didn't. She has to have some idea."

He looked at me from his clay and again almost smiled.
"You would have known that even if you weren't the goddess of love right now. I told you, you're good at this."

My face, I swear, totally acted casual, but the tips of my toes were tingling.
"
Anyway
, no girl is that clueless. I told her that the gift was too personal, that it's probably someone she already knows."

"
And she told you she thinks it's this guy."

"
I kind of had to pull it out of her."

It wasn
't that Kathy didn't know who it was, but she was afraid to say their names aloud. Not that I blamed her; that was totally my MO too. She and I, we were girls who never said anything. Never wanted to assume anything. It was a coping mechanism, saving our faces for when guys like Quin came along and acted all nice toward us. I got that, and managed to convince her that her assumptions were safe with me.