Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Cam
A fter two practice rounds with Nikki and Eric, a third on my own, and my first real interview last week, I was as ready as I’d ever be for my video call with the hiring officer of Tritech Corp.
I’d stalked Elaine Domingo online, so I knew she was a Filipino-American living in California, and she’d been with the company for almost a decade.
The interview began with her correcting me when I defaulted to calling her Miss Domingo. Tritech operated on a first-name basis regardless of position, she explained, because they wanted to emphasize equality. That made me want the job even more.
“We’re impressed with your portfolio, and your testimonials contain all good things,” Elaine told me. “However, we couldn’t help but notice from your application that you didn’t complete your college degree.”
I’d hoped the topic wouldn’t come up, but of course it did.
Thankfully, my friends had prepared me for this line of questioning.
“Yes. I was lucky to get a scholarship, and I enjoyed my classes. I got good grades, but something happened toward the end of my second year, so I decided to leave after finishing my requirements. I did continue taking online courses while I built my freelance career.”
“Can we discuss why you dropped out?”
My stomach clenched, but I answered the only way I could. “I’m sorry but that’s a personal story, and I don’t feel comfortable talking about it.”
This was it—my dealbreaker. If they insisted on me spilling, I would walk away from this opportunity. It would be a sign that they wouldn’t respect my boundaries, and I couldn’t stomach that. No job was special enough that I’d trade in my personal history just so I’d stay in the running for it.
“I understand,” Elaine said after a brief moment of silence. “I asked because we usually require our employees to be college graduates, though we do have some exemptions for specific roles.”
I wanted to name famous dropouts who went on to build massive empires, only I couldn’t claim to be as brilliant as they were. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t do just as well as any college graduate. “Is there any way I could prove that I’m capable of fulfilling the role?”
“We will have auditions, but in order to qualify, we’ll need to complete your background check. Do you have a certificate of honorable dismissal? If you could provide that together with the transcript of your grades, that will help your case.”
“Of course,” I answered. “I’ll locate the paperwork and send it to you right away.”
We chatted a bit more, and then I hung up and dove into the plastic container that served as my catchall for important files. My transcript of records was in a folder with my birth certificate, but no matter how hard I searched for my dismissal certificate, I turned up empty.
Sitting on the floor, I breathed out, “Shit.” It should have been there with my transcript. I’d gotten both of them for this very purpose before leaving Manila. So where was it?
I jumped to my feet and proceeded to turn my room inside out.
An hour later, I still came up empty-handed. Which meant one of either two things—I had to go back to my college and get it.
Or I had to ask someone to get it for me.
Alonzo
Two weeks into my classes, the craze around Tala and Jason subsided enough that I had gone back to my regular commutes instead of borrowing my parents’ car to avoid attention.
My classmates made offhand comments about my family connections occasionally, but those grew few and far between as their focus shifted to more important things—namely, surviving our professors.
If only I could say the same thing about my dad, who only doubled-down on micromanaging me.
On the first Tuesday of February, I got home just before midnight and endured a lecture from him about staying out late on a school night. I told him I’d attended a study session after my shift at the coffee shop. In response, he’d questioned me about telling the truth.
I had been.
In the past, I’d stayed out much later, and not always for academic reasons. Mama had been okay with it so long as I told her where I was and what time I’d be home. Now, I had to follow rules that didn’t exist before. It was like I was aging in reverse.
I cooled off with a shower and settled at my desk to continue studying when a notification appeared on my phone.
Unknown number
manila. u owe me for saving ur life
A chuckle burst out of me. There was no question who the text came from. Trust Cam to initiate a conversation with a demand.
Alonzo
Hi Cam. Do I have to give up a kidney or what?
Cam
not atm bt ill rem u offered. i need u to get smthing fr the registrar
I frowned, wondering if she’d typed the wrong word. Of all the favors I could imagine her asking for, nothing came remotely close to the topic of school.
Alonzo
You mean the State U Law registrar?
Cam
ofc not. undergrad.
Was she planning to apply? That didn’t make sense—she hated Manila. She could go for remote classes, but why would she need me to go to the registrar for that?
Wanting answers, I decided to call her.
Surprise, surprise—she rejected it.
Alonzo
You have to give me more details than that.
Cam
i need my cert of honorable withdrawal. i requested it online bt they cant ship it here.
My jaw dropped.
Alonzo
Hold on. You went to State U???
Cam
can u get it?
Alonzo
Sure, but I need to know what happened.
Cam
no u don’t
Alonzo
I’m serious. It’s an actual need.
Cam
nvm. lose this num
I called her again. This time, it didn’t even go through. She’d either switched off her phone or blocked my number entirely.
Way to go, Alonzo.
I’d known that Cam had no tolerance for games. Despite her needing a favor, she wouldn’t bend over backwards to get it. She would rather inconvenience herself to prove she could do it on her own.
I shouldn’t have cared either way. We weren’t friends. I didn’t even know much about her?—
Aside from her surfing and tattoo skills. The soft side she hid beneath her hard shell.
And the way she felt against me.
Shit. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. The kiss was hot, but it was a one-off thing.
Still, she was right—I owed her. She wouldn’t have asked for help if she didn’t really need it, and the favor was simple enough.
The least I could do was try.