After the Entrance Exam, My Childhood Friend Embarrassed Me in Front of Two Families—Little Did She Know, The Man She Called “Impossible to Like Me” Would Destroy All Her Confidence

After the college entrance exam, I thought that dinner was just a simple gathering between two families who had known each other for a long time.

But in just a few minutes, it became a funeral for all my memories of Marco.

And the most painful?

The enemy did not stab me.

The man I once carried home stabbed me while my arm was bleeding, while he cried and promised to take care of me for the rest of his life.

We were in a private room of a well-known restaurant in Quezon City. My mom and dad were with me, as well as the family of Marco del Rosario, my childhood friend since kindergarten.

We were neighbors in Antipolo. We grew up together, went to school together, reviewed for the entrance exam together. In the eyes of the elders, we were the type of “destined” child.

So while the waiter served the salmon stew and crispy pata, Marco’s mother, Tita Lorna, smiled jokingly.

“You two,” he said while looking at us. “Be careful. Don’t make any big problems. Finish college first before I take care of my grandchild.”

The adults laughed softly.

Me, just smile.

But Marco suddenly put down the spoon.

“Mom,” he said coldly, “I want someone else. Not Althea.”

It feels like a glass has broken even though no one has fallen.

The laughter stopped.

Mama’s face hardened. Papa slowly put down the glass of water, but I could feel his anger boiling.

I?

I just looked at Marco.

The man sitting across from me is no longer the boy I used to know.

He’s no longer the kid who will hold my bag when it rains, or the kid who will run to our house when I have a fever to bring me porridge.

Now, he is a person full of confidence that even if he hurts me, I will still keep waiting.

So before my family’s dignity was completely destroyed, I smiled at Aunt Lorna.

“Auntie,” I said calmly, “I have a boyfriend too.”

They all stopped.

Mama was the first to speak. “Althea? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Before, my priority was studying,” I replied. “Now that the entrance exam is over, only then will we become official.”

Marco suddenly laughed.

Not loud, but enough for everyone to hear the belittling.

“Boyfriend?” she said. “Althea, don’t lie just to avoid embarrassment. Who would like you?”

The whole table was silent.

In an instant, it felt like all the years of our friendship had turned to dust.

I didn’t answer.

Not because I have nothing to answer.

But because that night, finally, I didn’t want to prove anything to him anymore.

Dinner ended with a heavy wind. We said our goodbyes formally, coldly, with almost no eye contact.

When we left the restaurant, I told Mom that I would walk first to the parking area. I just needed to catch my breath.

But I was only a few steps away when I heard Marco’s voice.

“Althea.”

I didn’t stop right away.

“Althea, that’s enough. Stop being dramatic.”

That’s where I turned.

He was standing under the streetlight. Tall, cleanly dressed, but in his eyes, I could see the impatience. It was as if I was the one who was tiring. It was as if I was the one to blame for the awkward dinner.

“I know you’re hurt,” he said. “But don’t make up a story about your boyfriend. It’ll be ugly if it gets out.”

I stared at him.

In the time we’ve known each other, I’ve memorized his face when he’s lying, when he’s nervous, when he wants to hide something.

But tonight, it’s different.

He is not lying.

He truly believes that no one else can love me.

“Marco,” I said softly, “do you remember when we were in our third year of high school? When Bryan’s group beat you up in the alley behind the computer shop?”

His face hardened.

“When you were bleeding and could barely walk, I was the one who ran to help you. I was the one who carried you to the boat. My arm was broken because a pipe hit me while I was protecting you.”

He frowned. “Althea, you don’t have to use that to guilt-trip me.”

“That’s not what I do.”

“I remember,” he interrupted. “I remember everything. I said I would take care of you for the rest of my life, and I will. But Celina is different. She needs me.”

That’s where I heard the name.

Celina.

The transferee in grade eleven.

Quiet, weak, always bowed down, always looking miserable. Life is said to be hard. Family is said to be strict. No friends. No allies.

And in Marco’s mind, because I’m strong, I can’t be hurt.

“Celina,” he continued, “has no one else to lean on. You, Althea, can handle yourself. You always can.”

I smiled.

It hurts when your strength is used as an excuse to not be chosen.

“When I fix everything with him,” he said, “when I no longer have to take care of him, I will come back to you. You are still the one my family wants. In the end, you are still the one I will marry.”

I looked at him silently.

Back then, I might have cried.

Back then, I might have held on.

But now, all I felt was tired.

“You don’t have to go back,” I said. “I actually have a boyfriend.”

He laughed again.

“Althea, where are you going to get a boyfriend? You just finished your exams. You’ve been reviewing for almost a whole year. Don’t insist.”

Before I could answer, his phone vibrated.

He just looked at the screen, and his face immediately changed.

His voice softened.

“Celina? Babe, why are you crying? The score doesn’t matter. I’m going to see you now. Don’t be afraid, I’m right there.”

He didn’t look at me anymore.

He ran to the corner, for the woman who had failed only once, but in his eyes needed to be rescued immediately.

As for me, I was left under the light.

Not crying.

Not chasing.

I took out my phone and typed a message.

“Luis, I’m done here. Can I see you?”

In less than a second, there was a reply.

“Where are you? I’ll pick you up.”

I smiled.

And as I walked away from the restaurant, I didn’t know that on the opposite corner, someone had seen Marco leave me.

And that person would be the reason why the next day, in front of the entire del Rosario family, a black car would stop in front of our house—

Luis Calderon got off from there.

And he holds the thing that will silence Marco forever.

PARTE2

Luis Calderon got out of the black car as if he had come from another world.

He doesn’t dress flashily, but even though he’s wearing a simple white polo and dark slacks, there’s a calmness to his presence. He’s not like Marco who needs to speak loudly to make others feel his confidence.

Luis, just be quiet.

But when he looked, it was as if he knew where the person was injured.

That was the next day after a heavy dinner.

Early in the morning, Tita Lorna and Tito Renato arrived at our house with Marco. It was obvious that they had not had a good night. Tito Renato’s face was cold, while Tita Lorna was trying to smile, carrying a box of ensaymada, which was Mama’s favorite.

But I know they didn’t come to say goodbye.

They came to make sure what I said was erased.

“Althea,” Tita Lorna began gently as we sat in the living room, “maybe you were just carried away by emotions last night. We know that you and Marco are still young. But it’s not good to say something that’s not true, especially about a boyfriend.”

Mom was quiet next to me. Dad, on the other hand, had his arms folded.

Marco, leaning on the single sofa, had a small smile that was almost impossible to hide.

“Mom,” he said, “I told you. She doesn’t have a boyfriend. She just did it because she was hurt.”

I looked at him.

In the past, when he talked like this, I always wondered how I could explain it to him. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was just confused. Maybe he just felt sorry for Celina.

But there are people who don’t get lost.

There are people who are just comfortable with you because they know you’ve forgiven them for a long time.

“I didn’t lie,” I said calmly.

Marco smiled as if he felt pity. “Althea, until now? Stop pretending.”

There’s a horn outside.

A short sound, not a nuisance, but enough to stop the conversation.

The maid came to the window and looked in. “Ma’am, someone has arrived.”

I stood up.

I don’t need to ask who.

When the door opened, Luis entered.

“Good morning,” he greeted politely.

The living room fell silent for a moment.

The Calderon surname is well-known in Makati. Not because they like to make noise, but because their family owns several logistics companies and scholarship foundations that help students from public schools.

But at our school, Luis is just a simple honor student from the other section. Quiet. Smart. Doesn’t get involved in drama.

So when Marco saw her, his face changed slightly.

“Luis?” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Luis didn’t answer right away. He approached me and handed me a small paper bag.

“You left your reviewer in the car last night,” he said. “And here’s your bracelet too. Maybe you can find it.”

I saw that bracelet.

It’s simple, a silver chain with a small star-shaped charm.

He gave it to me the night we became friends.

He didn’t tell me he loved me because he felt sorry for me.

He didn’t say he would choose me “in the end.”

All he said then was, “I want to get to know the real you. Not the Althea that other people expect. Not the Althea that is always strong. Just the you.”

That’s when I first cried in front of him.

Not because I was hurt.

But because finally, there was someone who didn’t use my strength to leave me.

“Auntie, Uncle,” Luis said as he faced my parents and Marco’s family, “I’m Luis Calderon. I’m Althea’s boyfriend.”

It seemed like a silence had fallen in the living room.

The first to lose color from his face was Marco.

“Impossible,” he whispered.

Dad heard that.

“Why is it impossible?” he asked coldly.

Marco didn’t answer immediately.

Aunt Lorna, on the other hand, was clearly embarrassed. “Oh, is that so? I’m sorry, son. We didn’t know.”

But Marco still doesn’t seem to be accepted.

“No,” he said, standing up suddenly. “That’s not possible. When did it happen? How did you become you? All review season, you were just at home, at school, at the library. You don’t have time to—”

“To be loved by others?” I added calmly.

He stopped.

I didn’t raise my voice, but I could see it hit home.

“Marco,” I said, “you don’t have to watch my whole life to know who has the right to enter here.”

His ears turned red.

“Althea, that’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t that right?” I asked. “Last night you said who would like me. Now, when you see that it’s true, it seems like you’re more hurt than happy.”

He couldn’t answer.

That’s where Luis spoke.

“I’ve liked him for a long time,” he said. “But I didn’t flirt while we were reviewing because I knew the exam was important to him. After the last test, I confessed.”

He looked at me.

“I didn’t force him. I didn’t make him a reserve. I also didn’t make him wait while I prioritized other things.”

It felt like Marco had been slapped even though he didn’t move a hand.

His face hardened. “Are you listening to someone?”

“If you were hit,” Luis replied calmly, “maybe you should ask yourself why.”

Uncle Renato stood up.

“Marco,” his voice was heavy. “What is really going on?”

That’s where everything started to crack.

Marco probably thought that the elders didn’t know what had happened the past two years. He thought that because I didn’t report it, there was no trace of his abuse.

But repeated pain, even if you swallow it quietly, still leaves evidence.

Dad was the first to speak.

“One night, Althea came home at about ten o’clock, alone, from the road near the construction site. She didn’t report it. But I saw her shoes, the bottoms of which were muddy, and her hands were shaking as she drank water.”

Marco suddenly looked away.

“I called you before,” Papa continued, “but you didn’t answer. The next day, I found out you left him there to pick up a woman.”

“Dad…” I said softly.

Mom held my hand.

“We know,” he whispered. “We just didn’t know how much it hurt until last night.”

Aunt Lorna turned pale.

“Marco,” his voice trembled, “is that true?”

“I didn’t leave her,” he defended. “She knew how to go home. Celina—”

“It’s Celina again,” said Tito Renato, almost in a whisper but full of weight.

It was as if he only understood then that Celina’s name was no longer a simple name. It was now an excuse. A knife that was repeatedly used against me.

“You don’t understand,” Marco said quickly. “Poor Celina. Her score is low. Her life is hard. Without me—”

“Without you,” Luis interrupted, “he might learn to stand on his own two feet. But because you always do everything for him, you used his weakness as an excuse to neglect the person who just keeps quiet.”

Marco’s face turned red. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know,” Luis replied. “I know when Celina copied Althea’s homework, Althea was the one who got scolded. I know when you guys went out to eat, you sent her home because she was ‘disturbing.’ I know you used her as a cover so you wouldn’t be accused of dating.”

I stared at Luis.

I didn’t tell him everything.

Not that detailed.

He noticed my look, so he said softly, “You don’t have to report it to be noticed by someone who cares.”

At that simple sentence, my chest suddenly felt tight.

For years I thought maybe I was just too sensitive.

Maybe I’m the problem.

Maybe because I’m strong, it shouldn’t hurt.

But there was someone who saw everything I couldn’t say.

And he didn’t blame me.

Marco seemed increasingly confused.

“Althea, that’s why you’re like this,” he said, trying to laugh. “He poisoned you. That’s why you’re turning your back on me.”

I stood there.

“Luis didn’t poison me,” I said. “I woke up.”

Everything is quiet.

“I woke up a long time ago, Marco. When you left me on the street. When you used my notebook to save Celina. When you silenced me because my voice irritated her. When you said you would marry me eventually, but you had to love and take care of others first.”

My breathing deepened.

“I’m not a house you can return to when you’re done wandering. I’m not a seat reserved for you to sit on no matter who else you ask to sit on while you’re away. And I’m even more not a prize our family will give you just because we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Marco couldn’t speak.

For the first time, I saw that he had no answer.

The child who once promised to take care of me for the rest of his life stands before me now, not because he loves me, but because he can’t accept that someone else would choose me.

That is the most painful truth.

There are people who don’t love you.

They just love the idea of ​​you always being there.

Suddenly Marco’s phone rang.

On the screen, Celina’s name appeared.

No one moved.

He looked at the phone, then at me.

It was like he was waiting for me to stop him.

But I didn’t speak.

Finally, he answered.

“Celina, later—”

We couldn’t hear everything said on the other line, but we heard the sobs.

His face immediately softened.

“I’m here at Althea’s house,” he said. “No, she’s not angry. Don’t cry. I’m coming.”

Aunt Lorna was stunned.

It was like he finally saw what happened to his son.

A son who is used to putting other women’s tears first, even though he has in front of him the wound he himself caused.

Marco hung up the call.

“Mom, Dad, I just need—”

“Sit down,” Tito Renato ordered.

Marco was stunned.

“You won’t leave.”

“But if Celina—”

“If someone always needs to be rescued when you face responsibility,” said Tito Renato, “that’s not love. That’s running away.”

Marco’s eyes turned red.

Perhaps his own family just stopped him.

Perhaps he just now realized that not everyone was on his side with his version of goodness.

Aunt Lorna came over to me. Her hand was shaking as she touched my arm.

“Althea,” he said, “I’m sorry. I thought you were just a kid. I thought it was just a fight. I didn’t know you were already hurt like this.”

I smiled weakly.

“Auntie, there’s no need. That’s over.”

And it’s really over.

Not because I forgot.

But because I don’t want to make the person who pushed me to the side for so long the center of my life.

After that day, the story quickly spread among acquaintances. I don’t know who told the story, but in a place where family, school, and neighbors know each other, the truth has its own legs.

Many people found out that I wasn’t the one chasing.

I’m not the desperate one.

I’m not the one making up the story.

Marco is the young man who has someone waiting behind him as he chases after the woman he chooses to save every day.

When college started, Luis and I entered the University of the Philippines Diliman together. He majored in Engineering, I majored in Communications.

Our relationship wasn’t perfect.

There are times when we are stressed, there are times when we are tired, there are days when we are both busy.

But there was one thing he never did.

He didn’t keep me waiting outside of his life.

When he has a problem, he speaks up.

When I’m hurting, he listens.

When I’m strong, he doesn’t think I don’t need tenderness.

Meanwhile, Marco attended a private college near Celina’s school. According to reports, they often fought. He often took absences to visit her. His grades often dropped.

One night, a few months after everything, he messaged me.

“Althea, can we talk?”

I didn’t open it right away.

I answered the next day.

“What is that?”

It took a long time before he replied.

“I thought no matter what happened, you’d still be there.”

I stared at the message.

No anger flared up.

There is no sadness in returning.

It’s like I just saw an old photo of the house I no longer live in.

I answered briefly.

“That’s where you went wrong.”

A few minutes passed.

“Are you happy with him?” he asked.

I looked at the other table. Luis and I were in the library. He was bent over a book, but there was an iced coffee ready next to me, the exact blend I wanted. He didn’t brag. He didn’t remind me. He just remembered.

I smiled.

“Yes.”

Marco didn’t reply again.

And finally, I didn’t wait any longer.

For years I believed that love had to be endured. That when you’ve known someone for a long time, that’s enough to call them home. That when there’s a promise, you should wait for it to be fulfilled even if it means choosing you in the end.

But I learned: not all childhood love stories have to last.

Sometimes, the person you’re with at the beginning is just a lesson.

And true love won’t come back to you when he’s done with someone else.

True love is the one that doesn’t leave you on the sidelines while you prove you’re worthy of being chosen.

To those reading this, please remember:

Don’t turn a person who only uses you as a waiting area into your home.

Don’t wait for someone who needs to exhaust others before appreciating you.

Because the right person won’t hide you, won’t make you feel reserved, and won’t ask you who will like you.

He will make you feel the answer every day.