*Continuation of Flashback*
Jay-Jay's POV
It had been weeks since the slap.
And yet, somehow, people still whispered about it — quietly, behind books and half-bitten sandwiches, like the memory refused to die. I had gotten used to the stares now, the way certain classmates looked at me as though I were a spark ready to burn again.
What had started as a moment of raw frustration — my palm meeting Clara's smug face — had turned into the story that refused to fade. Every little sound of gossip carried my name like a shadow.
But I didn't regret it. Not really.
I just regretted how loud it had become — how it followed me like a ghost even when all I wanted was peace.
The sun was setting over St. Celestine's courtyard, painting everything gold and quiet. I sat on the concrete bench outside the administrative office, waiting for Sister Agnella to call me in. My detention notice lay folded in my lap — a thin, unimpressive piece of paper that somehow felt heavier than it looked.
I traced the printed words with my finger.
"Three-day after-class detention. Conduct review."
It had taken weeks for the decision to come through. Clara had already been suspended for a week — officially for "verbal misconduct." But once she returned, rumors had swirled again, this time quieter, sharper. So the school decided to "set an example," to remind everyone that violence wasn't tolerated, no matter who started it.
It was supposed to be fair.It just didn't feel that way.
When my name was called, I stood and walked in, heart thudding quietly beneath my uniform.
Sister Agnella sat behind her desk, her reading glasses balanced on her nose. The woman didn't look angry — just weary. Her tone was calm, the kind you used when you wanted to be both teacher and mother at once.
"Miss Mariano," she said gently, "you've been a good student since you arrived here. Respectful. Focused. But what happened last month cannot be repeated."
I nodded, hands clasped tightly. "I understand, Sister."
"We all know Clara's actions were... unkind," the woman continued carefully. "Still, I hope you'll see this detention not as punishment but as reflection."
My voice was soft. "Yes, Sister."
The older woman smiled faintly. "Good. You may go. And Jay—" she added, her tone softening. "You're stronger than they think. Don't let anyone take that from you."
I only managed a small smile. "Thank you."
As I left the office, the hallway felt strangely lighter, the weight in my chest loosening just a little.
Outside, Dane was waiting by the vending machine, hands in his pockets. He looked up when he saw me.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
"Three days detention," I said simply, shrugging.
Dane exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's better than suspension, I guess."
"Yeah." I tried to smile. "Guess I got lucky."
We stood there for a moment — awkward, comfortable silence hanging between us. It was strange how much had changed since that day. Dane had been caught between loyalty and family, yet somehow he'd ended up on my side, quietly checking on me, defending me when people whispered too loud.
"I, uh, heard Clara's grounded too," Dane said finally. "Mom freaked out when she found out she was spreading stuff online."
I blinked. "Online?"
He winced. "Yeah. Someone reported her posts. They're all gone now."
My stomach turned. "You mean—?"
"Keifer found out," Dane said quietly. "I don't know how, but… he made it stop."
I froze. "He… what?"
But Dane only gave me a look — part knowing, part amused — before pushing off the vending machine. "You should ask him yourself."
Keifer's POV
I had known from the start.
The moment the rumors started circling, the first time someone dared mention Jay's name in a way that made me clench my jaw — I had stepped in. Quietly, efficiently.
I hadn't told Jay, because I knew she'd only feel guilty. She hated when people fought her battles for her, even when she deserved to be protected.
But I had my own way of fixing things.
I leaned back in my car, watching from the parking lot as Jay exited the building. Her uniform sleeves were rolled neatly to her elbows, hair tied loosely, sunlight catching in the soft strands. She looked tired — that kind of tired that seeps into your bones.
And yet, she still managed to look beautiful.
I started the engine, easing forward until the familiar sound of the car made her glance up.
Jay's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "You really don't listen when I say not to pick me up, do you?"
"Not when you look like that," I said.
"Like what?"
"Like you need someone to drive you home." My grin was lazy, but my eyes were warm.
Jay rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."
"True. But I'm still your ride."
She sighed, walking toward the car, trying not to smile. When she slid into the passenger seat, she muttered, "You're lucky Sister Agnella didn't see you loitering around again."
"I wasn't loitering," I said, putting the car in drive. "I was waiting. Heroically."
Jay snorted. "Heroically, huh? I got detention, Keifer. That's not exactly a fairytale."
I glanced at her briefly. "Maybe not. But you stood up for yourself. That's something."
Her lips curved softly. "You always say that."
"Because it's true."
Jay's POV
The drive home was quiet at first — the kind of silence that felt full instead of empty. The late afternoon light washed the streets in mellow gold, and for a while, I let myself breathe.
I fiddled with the hem of my sleeve. "Do you ever think things just… spiral? Like one moment you're fine, and the next everything's out of control?"
Keifer's voice was calm. "All the time. But then you find something that steadies you."
"And what's that for you?" I asked, looking out the window.
His answer came without hesitation. "You."
My breath caught. "Keifer…"
He smirked. "Don't act so surprised."
"I'm not," I said, cheeks warming. "I just— you say things like that too easily."
"That's because I mean them."
My heart thudded softly, and I turned my face away, hiding the tiny smile forming there.
At a red light, Keifer reached over and brushed his fingers against my hand — light, almost absent-minded, but deliberate enough to make my heart skip.
"You've been quiet lately," he said softly. "Even for you."
I hesitated. "Just tired. It's been a long few weeks."
"People still talking?"
"Some. Not as much." I exhaled. "But it still feels like everyone remembers."
Keifer's grip tightened gently. "Let them. They'll forget soon enough. But you don't let them make you smaller, okay?"
I turned to him, eyes soft. "You sound like Tita Gemma."
He chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should."
The light turned green, but he didn't move for a second — just watched me, thumb brushing the edge of my palm.
Then he said quietly, "I'm proud of you, Jay."
The car rolled forward again. I smiled faintly, my chest aching with something warm and safe. "You really shouldn't be. I hit someone."
He glanced at me. "And she earned it."
I burst out laughing, the sound breaking the tension. "You're terrible."
"I'm honest."
We stopped in front of my house as the sky deepened into twilight. The streetlights flickered to life, painting everything in soft yellow haze. I lingered with my bag in my lap, not quite ready to leave.
"You're quiet again," he said.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
"Whether detention is supposed to make me reflect," I said, smiling faintly, "because all I think about is how boring it is."
Keifer laughed, low and amused. "That's my girl."
I gave him a playful glare. "I'm serious."
"I know." He leaned a little closer, voice dipping lower. "You did what you had to do. And now you're paying the price. But that doesn't mean you were wrong."
My breath was caught again — that familiar flutter in my chest whenever he looked at me like that. Too close, too soft, too Keifer.
"I should go," I murmured, fumbling with the seatbelt.
"Wait," he said, catching my wrist lightly.
I looked up, startled — and then froze when he leaned in, his hand brushing my hair away before pressing a kiss to my forehead. Slow, lingering, almost reverent.
When he pulled back, his voice was quiet. "Next time, tell me before it gets that far."
My throat tightened. "I didn't want to bother you."
"You don't bother me, Jay," he said, eyes steady. "You never could."
Keifer's POV
I watched her walk up the steps toward her house, her shoulders small against the dimming sky. Something inside me clenched — not anger, not quite worry, but a quiet vow.
I had already made sure the ones who hurt her wouldn't dare try again. Quiet warnings, quiet consequences — nothing official, but enough. I wasn't done yet.
If anyone laid another finger, another word, another rumor against her name, they'd answer to me.
Jay didn't have to know. Not yet. She just needed to breathe again, to feel safe.
I started the car, exhaling as I glanced once more toward her window.
"Sleep well, Jay," I murmured. "You've earned it."
Jay's POV
Inside, Tita Gemma looked up from folding laundry. "Ay, anak! You're home late again. That boy dropped you off, didn't he?"
I blinked, startled. "What— how did you—?"
The woman grinned. "Because you're smiling. You only do that after seeing him."
I flushed scarlet. "Tita!"
Gemma laughed softly. "I'm teasing. Go, eat. There's dinner in the kitchen."
I mumbled a thank-you and slipped upstairs.
When I entered my room, my phone buzzed.
Keifer 🖤: "Home safe?"
Jay : "Yes. You?"
Keifer 🖤: "Always. Don't think too much. Just… sleep."
Jay : "That sounds like an order."
Keifer 🖤: "Maybe it is."
I smiled, typing slowly.
Jay : "Goodnight, Mark Keifer Watson."
Keifer 🖤: "Goodnight, Jasper Jean Watson. Sweet dreams, my troublemaker."
I set my phone down, leaning back against my pillow. My eyes drifted shut, heart still beating a little too fast, but for the first time in weeks, I felt light.
Some consequences hurt.Some consequences healed.And some — I realized as I fell asleep with a small smile — were worth everything.