Hours later, when Kuya finally texts that he's "waiting outside," I scramble up, muttering, "Thank God," like I'm escaping a warzone.
My bag is slung across my shoulder, my shoes barely on right. I'm halfway out the door when—
"Jay."
I pause, my hand frozen on the knob.
Of course. Of course he calls me now.
Slowly, I turn.
He's leaning against the couch, one arm propped on the backrest like he's not even trying, but his eyes—ugh, his eyes are too much. Calm, steady, and way too intense for my poor, overworked heart.
I try to sound casual. "What?"
He doesn't move. Doesn't blink. Just meets my gaze like he's peeling me apart piece by piece.
"You're safe with me," he says, quiet but solid. "No matter what he thinks. Remember that."
Oh.
Oh no.
Why does my stomach flip like that? Why do my cheeks feel like they're on fire? Why does he have to say things like that?!
I can't breathe. I can't think. So I do the only thing my fried brain can manage—I nod. Tiny. Pathetic. Then I bolt.
Out the door, down the steps, into Kuya Angelo's car before Keifer can say another word and make my entire existence implode.
The silence in the car is murderous.
Kuya's got both hands clenched on the wheel, eyes forward, jaw locked. The engine hums like background tension music. I sink into the passenger seat, trying to shrink into nothing.
Don't say anything. Don't provoke him. Blend into the seat like a chameleon.
Finally—he speaks.
"What were you thinking?"
Welp. So much for chameleon mode.
I fiddle with my bag strap. "I… wasn't?"
His glare slices sideways, and I slap a hand over my mouth. "Kidding! Totally kidding!"
Angelo exhales slowly, like he's restraining himself from giving me the Lecture of Doom. His knuckles are white on the wheel.
"You disappeared after school, Jay." His voice is tight, sharp. "Didn't answer your phone. I had to track you down. And I find you—in his house?"
I wince. "Technically, he found me—"
"Jay." His tone brooks no nonsense.
I shrink. "…Okay, okay. I know it looks bad."
"It is bad." His eyes cut toward me. "Do you have any idea what you put me through? What if something happened to you? What if he—" He cuts himself off, grinding his teeth.
"What if he what?" I challenge before I can stop myself.
Wrong move. His glare could melt steel. "He's not trustworthy."
The words hit like a slap.
I cross my arms, staring stubbornly out the window. "You don't know that."
"I do." His voice hardens. "Guys like him—"
"Guys like him saved me today!" The words burst out, sharp and hot. My throat burns. "You weren't there, Kuya. Someone was following me! I was scared, I panicked, and Keifer—Keifer was the one who made sure I was safe!"
Silence.
Heavy. Crushing.
I don't even dare look at him. My heart is pounding so loud I swear it's echoing inside the car.
When he finally speaks, his voice is lower. Not calmer. Just… quieter. "You should've called me."
"I tried." My voice cracks. "You didn't pick up."
That shuts him up.
The rest of the drive is filled with nothing but engine noise and my racing thoughts.
By the time we pull into the driveway, my stomach is in knots. Kuya turns off the engine but doesn't get out right away. Neither do I.
The quiet stretches. Too long.
Then, softly, he says, "I'm not mad at you, Jay. I'm mad because I was scared."
My chest tightens. I sneak a glance at him. His face is still shadowed, but the edges aren't sharp anymore. Just tired. Worried.
"Kuya…" My voice wobbles. "I didn't mean to—"
He shakes his head. "I just need you safe. That's all."
The words sit heavy between us. I nod, even though a part of me whispers that safe doesn't mean the same thing to him as it does to me.
Because when Keifer looked at me earlier and said I was safe with him… I believed it.
And that scares me almost as much as the guy following me.
Later that night, I'm sprawled on my bed, phone on my chest, brain a chaotic mess.
Kuya barged straight into his room after dinner, still grumpy, leaving me with Aries side-eyeing me like what did you do this time?
I scroll mindlessly through my phone, trying to distract myself. Memes. Messages from Ci-n. A group chat spam about Felix losing at Mobile Legends again.
But it doesn't help.
Because every time I close my eyes, I see Keifer.
That calm look. That steady voice. You're safe with me.
Why does it keep replaying like a broken record? Why does my stupid heart react like that?
I groan into my pillow. "Brain, stop. Feelings, stop. Just—STOP."
No response. Traitors.
The next morning, school feels like walking into a pressure cooker. Section E is its usual chaotic circus—Calix trying to bribe Mica with snacks, Ci-n building a tower out of erasers, Felix already napping on his desk—but my eyes keep drifting.
To him.
Keifer's already there, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the chaos with that lazy half-smirk. Like nothing phases him. Like yesterday didn't happen.
My cheeks heat just looking at him. I yank my gaze away before he catches me.
Too late.
Our eyes meet for half a second across the room.
Half a second too long.
His lips twitch upward, just a little. Like he knows exactly what's running through my head.
I bury my face in my notebook, scribbling nonsense like don't combust don't combust don't combust.
Ci-n plops down beside me. "Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?"
"Homework," I blurt.
"It's homeroom."
"Shut up."
By lunch, my nerves are fried. I'm heading toward the courtyard when a hand brushes mine. Just lightly. Barely a touch.
But enough.
I freeze. Turn my head.
Keifer.
Expression calm. Voice low. "Walk with me."
Oh no. Oh no no no—
But my feet? Yeah. They follow anyway.
We end up behind the gym, quiet except for the faint sounds of basketballs thudding inside.
He leans against the wall, casual, but his eyes pin me in place. "How bad was it?"
My brows furrow. "How bad was what?"
"Angelo."
My stomach twists. Of course he'd ask. Of course he'd know.
I cross my arms, trying to play it off. "Surprisingly, I survived."
"Jay." His voice drops into that tone. The one that melts through every defense.
I cave, groaning. "Okay, fine! He was furious! But I talked him down… kinda. I think. Maybe. Hopefully."
Keifer studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Good."
"That's it? Just good?"
His lips twitch. "And reckless. Like always."
I smack his arm. "HEY!"
He doesn't flinch. Doesn't stop smirking. Just leans closer, so close I can feel his breath brush my cheek.
"Lucky for you," he murmurs, "I'm not going anywhere."
My brain short-circuits.
And when he leans back again, calm as ever, I know one thing for sure—
I am so, so doomed.