Revelation

It was our first tutorial for the module, and he asked us to take out a piece of paper, and write down what we thought chemical engineering meant, and why we chose to major in it. Is this guy for real? Is he expecting an actual answer, or is this some trick question?

I scribbled something down. Honesty's always the best way to go, I figured. I passed the sheet of paper to AY. She took a brief glance at it and let out a chuckle. Then she continued to pass the papers down the row to be collected.

***

Five minutes into the class, I received an SMS from HW. I furrowed my eyebrows and glared at him from across the classroom. What was he doing messaging me in the middle of class?!

"Don't you think he looks like Terry?" the message read. I turned to look at HW, and he gestured towards the front of the classroom, where our tutor was standing.

"Terry who?" I replied.

"Terry from I Not Stupid."

I rolled my eyes at him and kept my phone back in my pocket.

And so it began.

***

The following week, Terry whipped out a set of transparencies. "I just thought to share some of your responses from last week," he beamed.

As he scrolled down, and we shared some laughs at what some students had written, something caught my eye, but I didn't think much of it until AY nudged me with her elbow. "Isn't that what you wrote?!"

My reward for coining that answer was a caramel sweet. As I caught his toss, I felt like I was back in kindergarten, where I was given a pat on the back for colouring within the lines.

After class, HW came running over, and with a cheeky grin on his face, asked if I was going to keep the sweet in my fridge and never ever eat it, so that I could take it out and "look at it every day."

I rolled my eyes again, and with my voice muffled from the chewing, informed him: "I'm eating it already, lor."

That week, they called me "The Favourite."

***

We worked ourselves into groups of three, and a rotation system was set up whereby each group had to present the solutions for the tutorial questions that week. Being "The Favourite" meant that I couldn't weasel my way out of going first, no matter how much I pleaded, begged, or bribed.

So I went up to the OHP (overhead projector), slightly flustered, as I usually am most of the day.

I positioned my transparency sheet, and then proceeded to... um, find the switch for the OHP. What happened to all OHPs having the on-off button in plain view?!

"Um," I fumbled at the machine for a while. Maybe it will mysteriously switch on on its own. It didn't, and I gave up. I turned to look at Terry for help. "How do you switch this thing on?"

The class booed loudly, and I gave them all an icy stare. But Terry, obliging as he is, just chuckled and walked over to where I was. He put his hand over the OHP. "You see," he began. "The thing about this OHP is that he only works if you are friendly. You have to give him a pat on the head..." He patted the OHP's, er, mirror. "Say 'Hello' to him, and he will magically switch on!"

So I did what any normal student would do. I patted the OHP's mirror, deadpanned, and in as friendly a voice as I could muster, said "Hello."

The light didn't come on, and as I turned to Terry, forlorn, I watched as the shock registered on his face. That quickly gave way to amusement as his cheeks reddened, and he broke out into uncontrollable guffaws. On hindsight, I guess he didn't really expect me to talk to an inanimate object. But how was I supposed to know that?!

The progression of incredulity on Terry's face was priceless, and despite having the whole class laughing at me by this time, I couldn't help but burst into sheepish giggles.

That week, they called me "OHP girl." Terry, to this very day, still knows me first and foremost by that name.

***

It was during this semester that I switched around one of the tutorial slots of my core modules, because I wanted to take a literature module. My literature tutorial was just before Terry's lesson, which gave my classmates plenty of time to think up of puns during my absence, and then taunt me with them when I turned up five minutes before his class started.

"You're TERRY-ble." (Funny, meh?)

"What TERRY-vision programmes did you watch last night?" (Funny, meh?)

"Can I borrow your TERRY-phone?" (Funny, meh?)

"Do you and Terry have TERRY-pathy?" (FUNNY, MEH?!)

It was also during this semester that the movie Turn Left, Turn Right came out -- some romantic comedy starring Gigi Leung and Aniki Jin. Because Terry's real name (which is not Terry) gave so much opportunity for puns, my classmates certainly didn't pass up the chance to add another name to my card.

That week, they called me "Gigi Cheong." You go figure it out.

(They later modified it to Juju Cheong, because "ju" in Cantonese means... urgh, NEVER MIND!)

***

The morning I came to school with a newly-cut bob, HW pointed at me and laughed really loudly. "You look like a MUSHROOM!"

That week, they called me "Shiitake," which apparently goes well with TERRY-yaki sauce.

***

During one tutorial lesson, Terry posed some engineering question to the class. Expectedly, no one answered. I slumped down lower into my seat. Just keep yourself out of sight, and maybe this week you'll have some peace.

Terry looked around for someone to "volunteer" an answer, and walked in my direction. "There you are!" he pointed at me, a wide grin plastered across his face; mine contorted in horror. "My favourite student!" he boomed.

As the whole class turned to stare at me, Z very helpfully (and not-too-subtly!) pointed out right there and then: "Your face is as red as a tomato!"

That week, they called me "The Tomato."

***

We were studying at the bench one afternoon, when HW gawked at a passer-by who was wearing a pink shirt: "Ew, what kind of guy wears pink?" (We gave HW a pink shirt for his birthday last year. Hur hur.)

"Someone more secure than you," I answered, without looking up from my work.

As it turned out, we went for lessons the next day, who should be wearing pink but -- Terry! I could feel the knowing grins all throughout the lesson, but I kept looking straight ahead, refusing to meet any of their eyes. God ah, God, I silently muttered. Do You think this is funny?!

That week, they couldn't think of any more nicknames, so they just used all of the other names that they'd thought of before.

***

HW (helpfully): "Eh, I think he's Christian, leh. He wears a cross on his chain."

Me (annoyed): "... And?!"

HW (presumptuously): "And you are Christian mah. And you want a good Christian boy..."

Me (practically screaming): "That's a pre-requisite! It doesn't mean I go around jumping on every single Christian boy that I see! Do you know how busy that would make me?!"

HW (clueless): "Eh, but he's Christian, leh."

Me (giving up): "..."

***

"Actually, you know what, I really think we should stop this," I reasoned, in one of my many futile attempts to put a stop to the teasing. "I mean, for all we know, the guy could be married, and I don't want there to be any rumours of..."

HW (always and forever The One To Make My Life Miserable) cut in: "Why?! Would it make you upset if he were married?!"

"..."

I couldn't win.

***

A couple of my friends stayed behind after class one day, to consult with Terry over something, and as I waited around for them, I overheard (not on purpose!) their conversation. In it, Terry told them that it didn't matter if you did or didn't do well in school before -- past academics don't count anymore; to be a good engineer, you will need something extra.

Don't tell him, but --

That week, his little impromptu motivational speech secretly impressed me us.