Queen of the Clueless (Interim Goddess of Love)

by Mina V. Esguerra

  Maybe it was her. Neil had had two girlfriends before her. She had kissed a grand total of one other guy, and it wasn't like that was the best experience either.

  Cellphone alarm. Sol had set it for thirty minutes before curfew. She fished the phone out of her pocket with some relief.

  "I have to go," she said, as she always did lately.

  "You should think about what I asked you." Neil never liked the alarm. He vaguely looked like he would throw the phone against the wall, if allowed to.

  Understatement! It was all she thought about. If her thoughts were ever transcribed, "Move out of your apartment and move in with me?" would fill pages and pages. It was something she instinctively got excited about, like a more mature version of "Go to the prom with me?"

  She didn't give him an answer, but this was the third time he had brought it up and it was making her nervous. Sol actually had a canned answer ready, because she looked it up, and found a book on relationships, and bookmarked a section on "Is your boyfriend moving too fast?"

  I think we should slow down, and take things a day at a time. The next step will mean so much more if we know more about each other, and really thought it through.

  But that sounded so lame.

  She was sure he could sense that she was getting nervous, and he was being nice about it by not nagging her every second. But each reminder was sounding heavier, taking on a little more pressure.

  "I want to," she started to say, making sure that it was on the record. "I really do."

  "You know I'm willing to talk to your mom about it."

  Yeah right. Sol's mother didn't just run three successful businesses; she micromanaged her daughter's life too. It took so much begging and pleading to get her to agree to anything not according to plan. Sol's ex-boyfriend was not according to plan, and it ended up a disaster.

  Going to Ford River was another unexpected decision. Sol had to promise that she would remain focused on her double major, and not do anything to make anyone regret letting her study this far away from home.

  She couldn't think of how to start that conversation. But she wasn't surprised at Neil's confidence.

  It was what attracted her anyway, that confidence. He had the slightly aloof air, like many of these guys who grew up overseas. He didn't seem to care about any other subject in school, but he liked his chess, and he liked that she would beat him.

  Later she discovered that he was studying in Ford River because he got into some trouble in California. It wasn't just that college was cheaper on this side of the world—his family had exiled him to the land of his superstrict relatives. Except they couldn't really control him if he lived on campus and they didn't, so he pretty much lived as he pleased. Although still on a leash, because they handled the money.

  One day last semester, he told Sol that he really liked her, and he finally felt like there was a point to his being in "the middle of nowhere."

  Around the same time, he became really sweet. Affectionate. Kept touching her face, her hands, looking soulfully into her eyes, saying mundane things like "Join me for dinner" with odd intensity. She lapped it up, because even if it was a little weird, it was still better than being cheated on by a long-distance boyfriend. But his next thing, the "move in with me," that wasn't mundane.

  That was serious. Serious relationship serious.

  Neil touched her cheek. "You know what? I can go to Naga and meet her. Talk to her. I can be very convincing."

  But something else about Neil bothered her, and she kept meaning to talk to Hannah about it.

  She managed a weak smile. "Don't make plans just yet. I need to figure this out first."

  Chapter 3

  When I got to the Guidance Office to start my shift as a student employee, I saw the new memo tacked onto the cork board. It was the kind of thing that could ruin someone's day, if attempted hypnosis by a teacher didn't already accomplish that.

  The Student Discipline Office has received three reports of theft on campus this month. We would like to remind all Ford River students not to leave their belongings unattended, or entrust them to people you barely know. Wearing of ID necklaces while inside the campus will be strictly enforced.

  With a sigh, I fished for my ID in my bag and slipped it around my neck. It wasn't (just) that the yellow lanyard clashed with every outfit I owned and I looked like a zombie in my photo. News about stealing on campus, where eight out of ten students were Richie Rich sons and daughters of big names in business, politics, and international intrigue, that was bad news for students like me. Nobody ever said anything, but we scholarship kids (SKs, we called ourselves) felt the scrutiny. The ID-wearing order implied that the school suspected that outsiders were coming in and stealing stuff—highly unlikely. Why look that far for suspects? Not that any of us fine, upstanding SKs had ever been caught doing anything. Those who behaved badly in this school were usually the not-poor. Or the gods pretending to be human.

  When Sol dropped by a few minutes later, I was still peeved about the whole thing.

  "You know what's next?" I said, swinging my ID in her direction. "Color-coded uniforms and special bag inspection checkpoints. Just at the pedestrian gate, to check the ones who don't come to school in Jaguars."

  I could say this to Sol, not just because she was my best friend, but because even though she could afford Ford River tuition, she was actually here on scholarship too. But people like her in the grey zone were very few, and I treated her as one of mine.

  "I don't think that'll be necessary," she said, not exactly joining my outrage as I had hoped she would.

  It's not always about you, I lectured myself. One of the things I kept forgetting was that, as Goddess of Love, I had to learn to listen.

  "Sorry," I said. "You said you needed a serious talk, and I'm going on about the school thieves. I'm here for you, bestie. What did you want to talk about?"

  Sol was not just one of the prettiest people I knew; she was also one of the smartest. I mean, there were people who were book smart and yet awful at making life choices, but not Sol. She was not dumb, is what I'm saying.

  "I think my boyfriend has been stealing from people," she said, her smart and pretty face completely serious. "What am I supposed to do?"

  So this was the situation:

  Sol was not originally from here. Here, meaning the hilly provincial town just outside Metro Manila where Ford River College was located. She used to live in Naga, an hour's plane ride away, and she was recruited right out of high school with offers of a full scholarship and free housing. (Ford River was a rich school, but not the one everyone wanted to go to just yet.) When she decided to take the offer, she left behind the high school boyfriend, who gave up too quickly on their long-distance arrangement.

  I never met the guy, but I knew what a wrong move that was, breaking up with Sol. She's gorgeous. She looked perpetually, and naturally, sun-kissed, and was tall enough to be a model—if models ate right and slept more. But the breakup rattled her, and it took a while for her to decide to start seeing other people in school.

  So that led to Neil, the guy who charmed her in freshman PE class, and a few dates led to actual boyfriend-girlfriend status. Should I have said something, like "Hey, why don't you date other people first, before settling down right away with this guy?" Neil, after all, was not from here too. We didn't really know who he was, didn't hang out with any of his friends. But this was college, not high school where everyone's families went back several generations.

  Maybe I should have said something. But her own thing coincided with my becoming Interim Goddess, so I might not have been the best friend I was supposed to be.

  Neil, apparently, was one of those Rich Kids. He wasn't the kind who actually came to school with a bodyguard and driver (you can't have just one!), but he paid full tuition, rented a nice house in a gated community nearby, and drove to school. As RKs went he was low-key about it, and Sol actually found him on the generous side. Always paying for her lunch, and movies, a
nd dinners. At least when they were together.

  Then she started noticing that she was losing money.

  First it was the five hundred in her wallet, the one she was totally sure was there, and then it wasn't. It was the day that Neil showed up with unexpected milk tea for her after class. Then she had misplaced the money she brought to pay for her library fines, which Neil promptly offered to cover. (Still, what an embarrassing moment to have with the cute librarian guy.)

  Then it became a little too regular, bordering on ridiculous. She'd notice money missing, and he'd show up with something for her. None of these was worth mentioning to anyone else though, until maybe the large edible arrangement (oranges, bananas, pineapples and chocolate-dipped strawberries arranged like a floral bouquet) showed up at her door, just when she was looking for the five thousand pesos she had just gotten from the ATM the day before.

  "I don't even like fruit," Sol told me. "Not that much at least. And now I have this thing waiting to be eaten, and I hate to be stingy but I need that money for other things...and it's so bad to have to ask my mom for money again..."

  This was another thing that separated RKs from SKs, by the way. If I had been losing money that often? It wouldn't take me that long to speak up and kick someone's butt.

  "Do you know it's really him?" I had to ask.

  "Of course not," she said, annoyed. "I have no proof, which is why I never said anything. I'm only even talking about this now because I started hearing about the other people losing things too, and I can't help but think he's the connection."

  "You're still together then?"

  That earned me a swat on the arm.

  I didn't make a habit out of peering into Sol's heart. I just thought it was the polite thing to do. When I did the Goddess Thing on people, it revealed so much. Interconnected memories of love, sometimes tracing all the way back to childhood. And the person didn't even know I could see that much. It was manageable but disconcerting to experience with a stranger. Exciting but weird with someone with intentions like Robbie. But for a friend like Sol? I wasn't sure how I'd deal with it. I tried to avoid it as often as I could.

  But she wanted my help now, so I thought I should go and do it.

  I took a deep breath, and tried to focus on her.

  And I got nothing.

  Crickets.

  Silence.

  Quin said some people were easier to read than others. Maybe I really did need more training?

  But I'd read her before. Saw and experienced what she felt about Neil. I didn't imagine that.

  What completed the role of the Goddess of Love was not listening to the heart, but commanding what it should do next. Original Goddess could have simply told her to forget about Neil, and she would do it.

  Sol, I thought, as loudly as my mind could muster, maybe you should tell Neil you want some time off. Some space.

  "...it's not like he's being evil about it. His family keeps him on a tight allowance and tuition here is so expensive..."

  I wasn't a total amateur at this. I'd had successful goddess projects before! Usually that mere suggestion was enough. I took a deep breath and placed my hand on her arm, and tried again: Sol, talk to him and tell him that you know what he's doing. And just walk away.

  "...and he spends most of it on me, anyway..."

  Walk away, Sol.

  "...at least he's not seeing other girls, right? Because cheating is way worse. At least he's not cheating."

  Each new sentence was more distracting than the one before it, but this one I couldn't let slip. "Wait a second. Do you know how crazy that sounds? He's stealing! From you!"

  "Agh, don't make me regret telling you. No judgment, okay? Do I tell you to stop hanging out with the handsome guy who doesn't love you?"

  "Ouch." I watched her, looking for signs that my message had gotten to her at all.

  "Will you help me or not?"

  I guess it didn't.

  "What do you want me to do?" I asked.

  "Will you talk to him?" Sol said, her eyelashes batting pretty please. "Since you're working with the guidance counselor, and all? Because I'm sure he needs some kind of therapy, but I can't be the one who brings it up. Will you help me?"

  I didn't answer. I kind of just stared at her forehead.

  What does silence mean? She can't be another goddess all of a sudden. Wait, is she?

  Maybe I just need more training.

  "And you owe me," Sol added, overselling it. "How many times have I pulled faculty strings for you?"

  By that, she meant borrowing books for me from the Psych department, where she worked as a student assistant. For her, this was a simpler transaction. She used her assistant privileges to get me stuff, and I was supposed to use my Guidance Office pull. She didn't know that I could, as Goddess of Love, offer her so much more.

  Well, after some more practice maybe.

  Chapter 4

  When I was with Quin, I always felt that I didn't need anything else.

  Do you carry a giant bag every day? Because I did. Whenever someone pointed out that I would give my back a break if I just brought "the essentials," I had to say that I was bringing all my essentials. How could someone go through a day without her phone, and charger, and pen, and fresh pack of tissues, and lip balm, and emergency scrunchie, and feminine hygiene products, and toothbrush, and three-fold umbrella, and wallet, and second wallet where she kept her cards, coupons and IDs?

  I know how sick that all sounds. I also know, so let me just stop you right there, that it really was a fear of being unprepared. That any day could be THE DAY when all of these would miraculously be needed, and I didn't want to let anybody—or myself—down by not having it.

  But none of this mattered when I found out who (what?) Quin was.

  As the God of the Sun, he had apparently been keeping the universe in order since the beginning of time. When I was with Quin, I didn't care where my phone was. I didn't care about missed messages or emergencies going unnoticed. I knew he'd make sure I was exactly where I needed to be, with exactly what I needed to have.

  I couldn't help it; I wanted to believe that he felt the same way about me, even if it was just that one time during dinner at my aunt's house or something. Even before he asked me to be the temporary goddess of love, he was such a great friend. He seemed to like hanging out, and talking to me, and I knew that guys didn't just do that, even if they needed the girl to take over for a goddess who had mysteriously disappeared.

  Wasn't that what love was all about? No? Damn it.

  Recently, all Quin and I ever did was train.

  What did goddess training look like? Nothing too exciting. The first "power" I got was the aforementioned ability to see and feel people's thoughts and memories related to love. The Original Goddess could do more than that. She could hear people from anywhere in the world and plant the solution in everyone's minds at the same time.

  But because the Interim Goddess (me) did not have that power yet, I was stuck with hearing the problems near me, but with no efficient, easy way of handing out solutions. How do you prompt someone to change a mindset, without access to the mind? It wasn't easy. A few months ago I tried bringing together fellow sophomore Kathy and this guy Jake. Even though they already really liked each other, it still seemed to take forever.

  Of course, when I complained about that to Quin, he just delayed my training even more. "We won't proceed until you quell that urge to be matchmaker. Love isn't just about that, and you know it."

  But it felt so good, making people happy! Quin was such a downer sometimes. And who said quell anymore, or ever, in that context?

  In any case, a week or two later, he agreed to start my training again. The lesson? Long-distance commands.

  So that day we met after class, and he was trying to teach me how to send a command to someone who was within sight, but some distance away. We were at the open field, sitting on the makeshift bleachers that looked out onto the running track. About a dozen other s
tudents were there too, either preparing for a run, already running, or sitting on the grass just doing stuff.

  Quin took a seat on the row just above me, his back against the row above him, while lazily munching on an apple. "Which one do you want to go for?" he asked.

  I surveyed the field and the other students there. I recognized a few fellow sophomores, another person who was in the basketball team with Quin, some girls from my Lit class. Not that it mattered, if I knew them. I slowed my breath, and tried to tune out the scorching heat, the sounds of conversation, and my own physical reaction to hot guy sitting near me. I exhaled, and focused, and then I started hearing it. Hearing them.

  Lullabies.

  The sound that each heart makes, it sounds like a lullaby. Each person called to the goddess to be heard with that song, and each one sounded slightly different. I learned in the past few weeks that if I chose to listen to one, I could, and that person's heart would unfold for me.

  Figuratively, of course.

  The chorus started, and I zeroed in on one particular voice. It sounded sweet.

  "I got one," I said under my breath. "Girl in white, doing stretches."

  Crunch crunch crunch, as he chewed loudly. "What does she want?"

  The song in my mind became a voice, and her most immediate memory of love was sucked into my head. "She's waiting for Franco from student council to reply to her text."

  "What do you want to say to her?"

  Experiencing a memory goddess-style was always overwhelming. In the beginning, it felt like sticking myself into someone's movie, taken with only one camera. But with more practice I started to see how differently people remembered things (as opposed to what actually happened, or what other people saw), and I learned to make judgments based on the assumption that people were generally delusional.

  "I want her to relax, and go see a movie with her friends tonight, instead of just waiting. Because he doesn't even know she's expecting something from him," I answered.