I CALLED BORA UNNIE, MY COUSIN, AFTER THE WHOLE PAINTING BURNED. I was anxious, wondering if she’ll help me or would dismiss my plans as ridiculous. Either way, I have to try. She’s the only one I could think of calling for this kind of help.

We weren’t exactly close, my cousin and I. Sure, we used to play Barbie dolls when we were kids but as the years pass by, we grew a little distant. Is it because of puberty? Yes, probably. That and other differences in certain aspects. I was more of a laidback type whereas she can look effortlessly fabulous and y in almost everything she does.

My aunt married a rich businessman, thus making unnie very princess-like. She wore the best clothes while we were growing up and by the time she was in high school, she was a certified fashionista. She’s also very talented, a cheer captain at the tender age of 14 (most cheer captains were juniors or seniors and never a freshman or a sophomore. Well that was until she came along) and a member of the school choir.  She’s now in her second year of college at Starship University, home to the rich, talented and intelligent college students.

“Hello?” her husky yet feminine voice called out from the other line.   

“Umm, Unnie? This is _____.” Silence. Suddenly, I wanted to just hang up. She’ll find the whole story and idea ridiculous. She probably had never experienced this kind of problem since I believe it’s impossible for guys to dump her or something. They’d be complete fools.

I changed my mind after I sensed cheerful notes in her voice. “Hey! It’s been a long time. How are you?”

“I’m okay, I guess. Listen, can I bother you for like, a minute or two?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Reluctantly, I told her everything about what had happened earlier. I prepared a speech for this but as soon as I started the story, every word came out spontaneously. Heck, I even cried. I noticed that my cousin was a good listener too. Well that, or she was plain bored to comment on what I’ve been telling her.

“Boys are douchebags,” she remarked after I finished my tale. “Well, can be. High school boys, specifically. They can be that immature.”

“True.”

“Listen, did you guys, you know…”

“What?”

“Had… you know, the three-letter word.”

My eyes widened with disbelief. “Of course not! Unnie, I am not that kind of girl!” Suddenly, I felt insulted by my cousin. If she were like this then I’d look for other person I can ask for help.

“Look, I didn’t mean any offense, okay? I know you’re not that kind of girl. But you told me they had a bet. You didn’t exactly tell me what kind of bet it was. Knowing high school boys, it’s common for to be that kind of bet.” She explained. Then I saw the logic, and I felt ashamed of myself. What she said was true. Thank God it hadn’t been like that.

“Well, he did ask me to do something…”

I heard the anticipation in her voice. “What was it?”

I sighed. “An art project. It was supposed to be his make-up project to cover his absences in Art classes. We’re graduating, so you know how precious each and every subject is. He cannot afford to fail.”

“I see. What is this project about?” I was only glad that her voice was neutral. I already am feeling ashamed of how I let myself be used.

“I had to paint him 4 portraits, 1 in each different styles—Naturalism, Cubism, Impressionism and Surrealism. Shoot, I even had to finish it for two freaking days. I even painted a portrait of him for this coming prom, a present.”

Bora-unnie sighed. But it wasn’t an exasperated or sarcastic sigh. It was more of an affectionate, I-am-worried-for-you sigh. “You have to be careful next time, cuz. You’re in a stage where most boys court girls to get something. And us girls can be gullible and vulnerable during those times, too. I know because I’ve been there. I’ve experienced something like this, too and I know how it hurts you right now.”

I felt the warm of her concern. It was like that of a sister’s. I have no siblings and so is Bora-unnie. I had this weird idea of us being sisters all of a sudden.

Then I decided it was time. “Unnie, can you help me?”

“Sure! Especially if it’s getting back at this pig-head. Count me in, what can I do?”

Relief flooded all over me. I closed my eyes, thinking of the right words to say before proceeding. “He broke up with me 8 days before our prom night. I do not know if it was on purpose or not, but…” I couldn’t force myself to continue. Shyness and shame are starting to eat me up. Maybe it was a ridiculous idea after all.

“Do you want me to help you find a date?” she helped. I was surprised, actually. She had read me quite clearly.

“That, and help me look better, ier, and… beautiful.”

I heard her gasp. “But cuz, you are beautiful. It runs on our genes, silly.” When I did not reply, she sighed. “Listen, I will pick you up after your classes, okay? I’ll take you to the university and meet the gang.”

“Thank you, unnie. Thank you for listening… for everything.”

“We haven’t started yet, honey. See you tomorrow.”