Jay's Pov
Seven Days Later
The plane landed with a bump that woke me up from the worst sleep of my entire life.
I stretched my neck and heard about fifteen cracks. "Did we crash? Are we dead? Is this heaven?"
Jare groaned next to me, rubbing his eyes. "If this is heaven, why do I smell like airplane food and regret?"
"Because you sat next to Dave for thirteen hours."
We both looked across the aisle where Dave was still asleep, mouth open, snoring like a dying lawnmower. A little bit of drool was running down his chin.
"Beautiful," I whispered. "Frame it."
The flight attendant announced our arrival, and suddenly everyone was awake and grabbing bags. Sarah was already pulling out a compact mirror to check her makeup. HOW. HOW DOES SHE DO THIS.
"We're here," Bella said quietly, looking out the window. "Actual Philippines."
Ben had his camera ready. "The light. THE LIGHT. Look at this golden hour situation!"
"Ben, it's 7 AM."
"Exactly! GOLDEN. HOUR."
Getting off the plane was like walking into a wall of wet heat.
I took one step outside the jet bridge and immediately felt my hair expand. Like, physically expand. My straight London hair was already plotting its revenge.
"Oh no," I whispered.
Sarah walked past me, still flawless. "What?"
"My hair. It's... it's growing. It's becoming something else. Something scary."
Sarah looked at my head. Then she looked away. "I'm not going to lie to you, bestie. It's over."
"I HAVEN'T EVEN BEEN HERE TEN MINUTES!"
Jare patted my shoulder. "Welcome to the Philippines, Jay."
"Don't 'Jay' me! I'm suffering!"
We grabbed our luggage from the carousel, which took forever because Dave's bag was somehow the last one off the plane every single time. Then we stood outside the airport, six idiots with too many suitcases, sweating in places we didn't know could sweat.
"Okay," Jare said, checking his phone. "The school sent instructions. We need to find the HVIS shuttle."
I looked around. The airport entrance was PANDEMONIUM. People everywhere. Signs everywhere. Someone was trying to hand me a flyer for something called "Buko Juice" and honestly? I almost took it because I was so thirsty.
"There!" Ben pointed. "I see a guy holding an HVIS sign!"
We dragged our suitcases toward a man in a uniform holding a sign that said "HVIS EXCHANGE STUDENTS" in big letters. He looked relieved when he saw us.
"Ah! You must be the London students!" He had a big smile. "Welcome to the Philippines! I'm Kuya Ronald, your shuttle driver. Please, follow me!"
"Kuya?" Dave whispered. "Is that his name?"
"It means older brother," Bella explained. "It's a respect thing."
"Oh." Dave nodded like he understood. Then he turned to the driver. "HELLO KUYA RONALD! I AM DAVE! I LIKE FOOD!"
Kuya Ronald laughed. "I can tell! Come, come, aircon is waiting!"
The word "aircon" was the most beautiful word I'd ever heard.
The shuttle was a van. A white van with cold air conditioning and seats that didn't smell like feet.
We all collapsed into our seats like we'd just run a marathon.
"I never thought I'd say this," Sarah said, fanning herself, "but I miss London rain. I miss it so much."
"Same," I agreed. "Rain never tried to kill me. This heat? This heat is personal."
Ben was already taking photos out the window. "Guys. GUYS. Look at this place. The colors. The jeepneys. The—is that a chicken on a motorcycle?"
We all looked.
There was, indeed, a chicken on a motorcycle. Just sitting there. On the back. Like it was normal.
"...Okay," Jare said slowly. "We're not in London anymore."
The drive to the HVIS International Residence took about an hour. An hour of seeing things I couldn't explain.
Tiny colorful buses called jeepneys packed with people hanging off the sides. Buildings that looked old next to buildings that looked brand new. Street vendors selling things I couldn't name. And so many people. Everywhere.
"It's so... alive," Bella observed.
"That's one word for it," Sarah muttered.
Finally, the van turned onto a quieter street and stopped in front of a gate.
"Here we are!" Kuya Ronald announced. "HVIS International Residence!"
We all leaned forward to look.
And then we all leaned back.
"Is this... a joke?" I asked.
The building in front of us was... how do I say this nicely... not what we expected.
It was three stories of gray concrete. The paint was faded. There were vines growing on one side. The windows had metal grills that looked like they'd been there since the 80s. And the gate? The gate made a sound when Kuya Ronald opened it. A scary sound. Like eeeeeek.
"This is a villa?" Sarah's voice was dangerously calm. "Because I've seen villas. I've stayed in villas. This is not a villa."
"Maybe it's nicer inside?" Ben offered, already taking photos. "The texture is interesting. Very... rustic."
"Rustic," I repeated. "Ben, that's not rustic. That's haunted."
Dave, bless his heart, was still positive. "I don't care what it looks like! Does it have a kitchen? I need to start my Filipino food journey!"
We dragged our suitcases through the scary gate and up a cracked walkway. The front door was made of wood. Old wood. The kind of wood that probably had stories. Scary stories.
Jare pushed it open.
CREAK.
"OH COME ON," I yelled. "IT EVEN SOUNDS HAUNTED!"
Inside was... actually not terrible.
Okay, it was a little terrible. The furniture was old. The walls had some stains. There was a ceiling fan that clicked every time it rotated. But it was clean. And there were bedrooms. Six bedrooms, actually, arranged around a common living area.
"Okay," Sarah admitted. "The inside is better than the outside."
"Much better," Bella agreed, peeking into one of the rooms. "There's AC in each room."
"AC?" Dave perked up. "Where? I'll marry it."
We split up to claim our rooms. Mine was small but had a window overlooking... more vines. Great. At least the bed looked comfortable.
I flopped onto it and immediately felt my phone buzz.
SAME BRAIN CELLS GROUP CHAT
BEN: My room has a VIEW. The sunset is going to be INCREDIBLE here.
SARAH: My room has a mirror. Full length. We're safe.
DAVE: MY ROOM IS NEXT TO THE KITCHEN. THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.
BELLA: Everyone settle in. We start school tomorrow.
ME: Tomorrow?? Already?? I need at least a week to recover from that flight.
JARE: Stop complaining, Jay-Jay. You slept half the flight.
ME: That was coma, not sleep. There's a difference.
That night, we ordered food from somewhere called "Jollibee" because Dave found a menu and wouldn't stop talking about it.
"This is the famous one!" he said, holding up a fried chicken leg like it was a trophy. "The one with the spaghetti! Sweet spaghetti!"
"Sweet spaghetti?" I stared at my plate. "That's... that's a choice."
"Just try it."
I tried it.
And then I ate the whole thing.
"OKAY," I admitted. "This is amazing. Why doesn't London have this? This is injustice."
Sarah was eating something called "Chickenjoy" and looking suspiciously happy. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but... this is better than KFC."
Bella nodded. "Much better."
Ben was too busy taking photos of his food to eat it, but that was normal.
We sat in the living room, eating our Jollibee, and for a moment, everything felt okay. The haunted building didn't matter. The heat didn't matter. We were together, we had food, and tomorrow we'd start our new adventure.
This was going to be the best semester ever.