My Friend's Arrogant Brother

Maya's POV

The cold seeped into every part of my body.

I was trembling, soaked to the bone, my clothes clinging to my skin.

I didn't have my umbrella-I gave it to my sister.

I always did.

I'd rather be the one drenched in rain or burned by the sun than let her suffer even a little.

I had no idea why the downpour came so suddenly.

It was supposed to be the start of summer.

"Maya!

You're soaked!" Mary gasped, her eyes wide as she opened the door to our tiny house.

"Why didn't you take shelter at the waiting shed?" "It was getting late," I replied through shivering lips.

"No buses come by this hour, and the streetlights on some poles aren't even working.

I didn't have a flashlight, so I kept walking.

I figured getting drenched was better than coming home even later." I grabbed the tray holding my soap and shampoo and stepped back outside.

Our shower and bathroom were behind the house, separated from the main structure-open to the wind and rain.

The water from the spring was biting cold.

I washed quickly, trying to ignore the way it stole my breath.

We didn't have a heater.

We never had one.

The freezing water was something we'd always endured, like everything else in our lives.

I changed into one of my old dresses-frayed around the edges but still decent.

Then I joined Mary in our small dining area, where a wooden table meant for four sat snug against the wall.

"I'm sorry I couldn't attend your graduation," Mary said quietly, guilt in her voice.

"You know I couldn't leave Grandma alone while Grandpa was out working on the farm." I gave her a tired smile.

"It's okay, Mary.

I understand.

Grandma just got out of the hospital.

She needs to rest more than anything." "I'm so proud of you, Maya.

You graduated as Class Valedictorian," she said, her face lighting up with admiration.

"I wish I could be like you.

I'm hoping to be in the top five, but it'll be tough." "You don't have to be like me," I replied gently.

"I needed to graduate as valedictorian so I could secure the full scholarship.

It's the only way I can go to college.

Thank God, I made it." It hadn't been easy.

Juggling school with a part-time job, pushing through exhaustion every day-it had worn me thin.

But I had no other option.

Grandpa couldn't shoulder the cost of college, not while Grandma was ill.

"Congratulations again," she said proudly.

"I just know you'll become a successful civil engineer someday.

I believe in you." Her words filled my chest with warmth.

"Thank you, Mary.

And I believe in you too.

I know you'll become an amazing flight attendant one day." Her eyes sparkled.

"You think I'll really get to travel the world?" "Of course," I said with a grin.

"You'll send me pictures and postcards from every country you visit.

You'll make friends from every culture.

And one day, we'll build a beautiful house for Grandpa and Grandma-one with a proper roof and tiled floors." Mary giggled.

"I wish I were already twenty-five." "Why?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Trying to skip time?" She grew quiet, her expression softening.

"I just want to see you succeed already.

I hate seeing you struggle, Maya.

You work on the farm with Grandpa, give me allowance money...

You even bought me a cellphone while you don't have one yourself." "I don't need one," I said gently.

"One phone is enough for our household.

Besides, Lisa can always call you if she needs to talk to me.

And I use the school library for my research.

There's no need to worry about me." Mary blinked back tears, her voice thick with emotion.

"Thank you, Maya...

for always thinking of me." Her words hit something deep inside me.

"All the hardships I've faced made me who I am today," I added softly.

"And I'd go through them all over again if it means helping this family." "I know, Maya.

Thank you so much for being a wonderful sister to me," Mary said softly-and then, to my surprise, she threw her arms around me.

I froze for a moment, caught off guard.

She didn't hug me often.

Not like this.

It felt...

full.

Honest.

Like she had been carrying those words in her chest for a long time.

"Grandma and Grandpa are already asleep," she murmured against my shoulder.

"I let them eat ahead of us.

I told them not to worry about you.

Grandpa needs to be up early tomorrow to work at Hacienda Monleon." She pulled back, smiling at me gently.

"They wanted to attend your graduation, you know.

But I told Grandpa that Grandma still needs rest.

I'm glad they listened." I looked at her-really looked at her.

Sixteen, and yet she spoke with so much calm, so much sense.

I felt a swell of pride in my chest.

She was growing up, becoming more responsible than I ever expected, and doing her best to protect our family, too.

Then my gaze dropped to the table.

"Wait...

you cooked spaghetti?" I asked, the familiar aroma tugging at my emotions.

"Mary, you didn't have to..." In our home, spaghetti was reserved for birthdays, Christmas, and fiestas-rare moments of celebration.

Seeing it tonight made something tender in me ache.

She smiled with a shrug.

"It's not much.

I know it should've been a grand celebration.

You're the valedictorian, Maya.

You deserve more than this." She paused, her voice dipping just a little.

"But we didn't have the money for anything fancy.

So I figured...

this would do." I nodded, trying not to let my voice crack.

"It's more than enough." She continued, her eyes flicking to the side as if embarrassed.

"I'm sure your classmates are out tonight-celebrating in nice restaurants, having their names printed on cakes, getting bouquets.

But this...

this is what we have." And just for a second, I saw the hint of sadness she tried to hide.

The longing.

The small wish that things were different.

Mary was drawn to things I always tried to avoid-the social circles, the polished world of the rich kids in town.

I'd always kept my distance.

Except for Ariana and Rich.

Ariana was different-warm, kind, the kind of girl who reached out when no one else did.

And Rich was the kind of boy who didn't care that I wore hand-me-downs or smelled of farm soil.

He was fun, friendly, and grounded.

"Hey!

Let's eat before the spaghetti gets cold," Mary said suddenly, her tone lifting.

She was a great cook-another skill we'd both picked up early.

Out of necessity, not choice.

We learned how to cook, clean, and manage a home because we had to.

We needed to hep our grandparents because we were grateful to them for raising us when no one else would.

There were days I longed for my mother.

For answers.

For a father I never knew.

We'd only ever seen our mother in photos-faded snapshots of a quiet, distant woman.

Our father?

A ghost.

No name, no face.

Only silence.

"Why didn't they ever tell us who he was?" I used to ask Grandpa.

And he'd always say the same thing, his voice filled with a strange mix of love and sorrow: "Your mother was secretive, Maya.

She came home one day and told us she was pregnant.

She refused to name the man.

When you were born, I didn't push.

I hoped, in time, she'd tell us.

But she never did." Two years later, history repeated itself.

Mary was born.

And this time, Grandpa's disappointment was louder.

He was angry-not because she was pregnant again, but because she left us both behind...

and never came back.

Grandpa never let us feel unloved.

"You girls," he would say, "are the greatest thing that ever happened to us." So I stopped asking.

The day our mother died, she took her secrets with her.

For me and Mary, our grandparents were our parents.

That's why I learned to work on the farm.

Why I never complained about waking before the sun or scrubbing dirt from my hands at night.

Grandpa was aging.

He worked hard for us.

"Why do you look so sad, Maya?

Is there something on your mind?" Mary asked gently as she watched me.

"I saw Ariana and Adonis today." I replied.

Her eyes lit up immediately.

"Really?

I saw them drive past earlier.

He was in that red convertible again." I nodded, the memory still vivid.

"They stopped by the road.

Ariana got out.

She looked stunning.

Her hair was perfect, her dress was designer, and she smelled like some luxury perfume I can't even name." Mary grinned, teasing.

"And what about your prince charming?" I scoffed, but couldn't help the blush that crept up my cheeks.

"Still arrogant.

Still cold.

But...

God, he looked even more handsome than I remember.

I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I just wish his attitude matched his face." "You know my theory hasn't changed.

He hurts you because he likes you," she said with a playful shrug.

"The more you hate, the more you-" "Don't finish that," I cut her off, shaking my head.

"That's not love, Mary.

That's just cruelty.

You know what kind of games the rich kids play.

They don't fall in love-they make bets.

That's all I ever was to him." My voice cracked slightly at the end, and I hated how much it still hurt to say it out loud.

"That's why he picked me last year," I continued.

"I was the target of some stupid, cruel game.

And I was foolish enough to believe he meant it." Mary's expression softened.

"But you don't know the full story, Maya.

They left right after that incident.

Maybe something happened-something you didn't see." She was always hopeful, always rooting for a storybook ending.

For as long as I can remember, Mary had wanted me to end up with Adonis.

But destiny never hurt this much.

From grade four up until my final year in high school, Adonis Monleon had always been my answer to the question: Who's your crush?

Every scrapbook.

Every slumbook.

Every confession box.

Even when he crushed me-humiliated me-his name never changed.

Last June, my best friend Lisa was furious when I still wrote his name on her farewell page.

"Cross it out," she told me.

"He doesn't deserve even a space in your memory." But I couldn't.

Some people leave a mark on you, even when they don't deserve to.

"I still don't get it," I muttered.

"Why does he treat you so differently?

He talks to you like you're his little sister.

He's nice to the farmhands' kids, too.

Everyone adores him.

I'm the only person in this whole town he seems to hate." Mary tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Maybe he doesn't hate you, Maya.

Maybe you just scare him." I stood up and started clearing the table, needing something to do-anything to escape her stare.

"Stop it, Mary.

Adonis and I are never going to happen.

He may be my longest-running crush, but I hate him." She laughed behind me.

"Sure.

Keep telling yourself that.

But one day, I'll tell you to your face: I was right." I shook my head, amused and annoyed all at once.

"Do you know what he said to Ariana today?" I asked after a moment, voice quieter.

"He told her I wasn't beautiful.

Right in front of me.

Like I wasn't even there." Mary blinked.

"Seriously?

Wow.

That only proves my point-he likes you." "What?

How do you even come to that conclusion?" I turned, genuinely baffled.

"Because he's lying, Maya.

Everyone around here knows it.

You're the most beautiful girl in town.

You have natural beauty.

You don't need expensive products to glow." She smiled, eyes full of sisterly admiration.

"Even Richard said it once.

That you look like a Greek goddess.

He said you have a body men would fight wars for-and women would die to have." I burst out laughing.

"Mary!

Stop it.

You don't have to flatter me.

I love you already.

You don't need to say all that to make me feel better." "I'm not flattering you.

I'm telling you the truth," she said firmly, her smile unwavering.

"If you gave someone else a chance, maybe you'd be in a relationship right now.

There are so many boys from the capital who'd be lucky to date you.

But you keep turning them all down." I sat down again, heart suddenly heavy.

"I just...

I don't want to be played again, Mary." She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

"Then don't wait for someone who keeps breaking you.

Try something different this summer.

Go on one date.

Just one.

Who knows-you might even enjoy it." Later that night, while Mary slept soundly on her side of the room, I lay awake-staring at the ceiling, her words echoing in my head.

Try something different.

Maybe it was time to stop letting memories of Adonis ruin my peace.

Time to stop holding on to someone who never really held me back.

But moving on wasn't as easy as flipping a switch.

He had broken my heart.

And I was still gathering the pieces.