Sky's pov
So there we were. Me, Skiez, BB (still red-eyed from crying), and Nav looking like he was about to carry the weight of the entire Philippines on his shoulders.
And me? Oh, just casually thinking of baby names because my brain is obviously wired wrong.
"Okay, so…" I leaned back against the wall, twirling my pen dramatically. "Since BB and Nav are basically a telenovela couple now, we need a name for their future lovechild."
BB groaned, "Sky, stop. This isn't funny."
"Oh, it's very funny," I grinned. "Trust me, you'll thank me later. Imagine this: Navira Mendoza."
They all froze.
Nav blinked. "Navira?"
"Yeah," I shrugged. "It's like… Nav plus Bri. Boom. Navira. Beautiful. Elegant. Has that whole main-character-in-a-wattpad-story vibe. Way better than what I was going to say earlier, which was Doritos Mendoza."
Skiez facepalmed so hard I swear his brain rattled. "You are not naming a child Doritos!"
"But Navira…" BB repeated softly, like she was testing the name on her tongue. And for the first time all day, she actually smiled. A tiny, fragile smile, but still.
Nav glanced at her, then back at me. "That… actually sounds nice."
I smirked. "Of course it does. You're welcome. I just saved your baby from being named after chips."
Skiez groaned. "Sometimes, Sky, I don't know if I should thank you or lock you in a broom closet."
"Try it," I said sweetly. "I'll still come out with snacks."
We were still sitting there in our secret corner after my genius baby-name moment. (Yes, I'm calling myself a genius. Patent pending.)
"Navira," BB whispered, testing the sound again. Her voice cracked a little, but her eyes softened. "Navira Mendoza…"
Nav looked like someone had just sucker-punched him and kissed him at the same time. "That… actually sounds perfect."
And then—out of nowhere—BB added, almost like she didn't even mean to:
"Navira Sky Mendoza."
…
You could have heard a pin drop.
Skiez immediately whipped his head toward me. "What the hell—Sky?! Why is your name suddenly in there?"
I choked on my own spit. "Wha—ME?! Hey, don't look at me! I didn't bribe her! I don't have a sponsorship deal with babies!"
BB, still staring at the floor, just hugged her knees and whispered again, quieter this time: "Navira Sky Mendoza."
Nav's throat bobbed like he was swallowing a thousand unspoken words.
Meanwhile, Skiez was ready to flip a desk. "Sky. You. Are. Infecting. Everything."
I raised my hands in surrender. "Hey, don't blame me if I'm naturally unforgettable!"
But deep down… I couldn't shake it. The way BB said it—it wasn't just a joke. She meant it.
BB's voice cracked but steady enough:
"Navira Sky Mendoza."
. . .
Me: error 404 brain not found.
Skiez: literally short-circuiting beside me.
"WAIT—HOLD UP!" I shot up, nearly dropping my beloved stash of chips. "Did she just—did she just baptize the baby with my NAME?!"
Skiez slapped his forehead so hard I swear the sound echoed. "Oh my god. Oh my actual god. BB. Out of all middle names in the world—you picked HER?!" He jabbed a finger at me like I was an expired packet of ramen. "Do you know what kind of CURSE you're placing on that child?!"
"HEY!" I barked back, clutching my chest. "Excuse you, I'm a blessing, not a curse! Kids named after me will probably grow up with premium sarcasm and fabulous hair!"
Skiez groaned. "Yeah, or grow up in detention. Daily."
BB ignored us both, whispering it again like she was holding on to something fragile: "Navira Sky Mendoza…"
That's when Nav finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "That would be… a perfect fit."
…
You could've knocked me out with a potato chip.
I spun to him, eyes bulging. "PERFECT FIT?! Bro, are you hearing yourself? Do you want your child growing up quoting frog jokes and naming teddy bears Rim?!"
Nav just smiled faintly, gaze on BB. "It's not about perfect people. It's about the perfect name. And she chose it."
Skiez threw his arms up. "I give up. This world is doomed. A kid named after Sky. Next thing you know, the kid's first word will be 'Doritos.'"
I gasped. "Okay, but admit—Navira Doritos Mendoza has a RING to it."
Skiez: facepalms so hard, I'm surprised his hand didn't break.
________________________________________
BB's POV
They were all staring at me like I'd just set the classroom on fire.
Sky looked like her eyeballs were about to fall out, Skiez was already auditioning for a soap opera with all his hand-to-forehead theatrics, and Nav—Nav just looked… calm. Like he'd already accepted whatever madness I just said.
"Navira Sky Mendoza," I repeated, softer this time.
Why Sky? Out of everyone in this messed-up world, why her?
Because when I was crying, ugly-crying, in that dusty corner with my whole world collapsing on me… she was there. Sky. With her stupid chips and stupid jokes and her stupid frog voice.
She could've laughed. She could've run off and told everyone. But she didn't. She just sat with me. Hugged me. Even when I didn't pull back.
Sky—loud, sarcastic, annoying Sky—was the first one who didn't make me feel like a monster.
And when I whispered the name, I wasn't thinking of sarcasm or chips or chaos. I was thinking of the girl who didn't leave me when I needed someone.
So, I lifted my chin and said it, clear this time:
"Navira Sky Mendoza. Because… Sky was the first person to see me. The first person to stay."
Silence.
Nav's eyes softened. He just nodded, like he understood everything I couldn't put into words.
Sky, on the other hand, was blinking like a confused goldfish. "Wait, wait, wait. Did I just get promoted to baby middle name status? Like—is this an upgrade? Should I start charging for emotional support services now?"
Skiez groaned so loudly it could've cracked the floor. "Unbelievable. She's out here confessing her heart and you're already turning it into a business pitch."
But I didn't care. For once, it felt right. Navira Sky Mendoza.
A name born from both of us, and a reminder of the one person who didn't let me break completely.
________________________________________
Sky's pov
Perfect!
So… BB just said Navira Sky Mendoza.
Hold on. Time out. Flag on the play. Did my name just get legally adopted into a baby that doesn't even exist yet??
I blinked at her, at Nav, at Skiez, at the ceiling—like maybe God was watching this soap opera and laughing.
"Wait, wait, wait," I raised my hands like a referee. "Did I just get promoted? Middle name privileges? Like—hello? Excuse me? I'm barely passing algebra and suddenly I'm a legacy?"
BB looked at me with her swollen, tear-soaked eyes, all serious. "Because you stayed."
…oh.
For a split second, my sarcastic brain went mute. Which was terrifying. Like, did my mouth just break? Hello, sarcasm? You alive?
But then—of course—it rebooted.
"Wow. BB, I don't know if I should feel honored or deeply concerned. But hey, if this kid grows up with my name, I expect snacks every Christmas. Royalty fees. Maybe their first words could be 'frog voice queen.'"
Skiez groaned so loud you'd think I just cursed his ancestors.
________________________________________
Skiez's POV
I swear to the holy syllabus of Section A, this girl will be the death of me.
Here BB is, breaking down her soul, confessing why she chose "Sky" as the baby's middle name—a rare, raw, vulnerable moment—
And what does Sky do? Turns it into a comedy set.
I slapped my forehead. "Unbelievable. BB's pouring her heart out and you're already negotiating snack royalties. Have you no shame, woman?"
Sky shrugged, all smug. "Hey, sarcasm is my love language. If the baby's middle name is Sky, the baby better inherit my humor too."
I wanted to scream. No—cry. No—both.
But then, my eyes slid to Nav. Mendoza. The quiet storm. He hadn't said a word yet, but the way his gaze softened… yeah, I could feel it. He wasn't just nodding. He was accepting it. Carrying it.
________________________________________
Nav's POV
"Navira Sky Mendoza," I repeated under my breath.
It… fit. It sounded strange at first, but the more I let it roll in my head, the more it settled. Like a puzzle piece falling into place.
I looked at BB—her eyes still red, her body trembling, but for the first time, she wasn't just crying in despair. There was a spark. A choice.
And Sky—loud, sarcastic, infuriating Sky—smiling like she couldn't decide if she was honored or just found free pizza coupons.
I let out a breath and said quietly, "That's a perfect fit."
Because it wasn't just about me. Or BB. Or the child.
It was about the people who stayed when it mattered. And Sky had stayed