There are some people you like because they are handsome.
And there are some people you trust because they make you feel safe.
Mark Keifer Watson was both.
But if I was being honest with myself, what I felt for him was no longer just a silly crush born from pretty eyes and a calm voice.
It was something softer.
Something steadier.
Whenever I saw him, my heart still skipped.
But beneath the nervous flutter, there was a deeper feeling.
Relief.
As if some hidden part of me had decided that if he was nearby, nothing truly bad could happen to me.
And that thought should have scared me.
Instead, it comforted me.
Morning at Holy Saint
By the time I reached Holy Saint School the next day, the bruise on my temple had faded to a pale purple.
The whispers had faded too, though not completely.
People still looked at me.
Only now, their curiosity had changed.
Some looked impressed. Well I don't feel like I had do anything to impress then "whatever" i muttered as. I walk beside some student which I can't seem to recognise them shhhhh...it's one of my personality whoever i don't like important then i don't to recognise or remember them_
Some looked cautious.
And some looked as if they were wondering what kind of transfer student could survive one week at Holy Saint and come back standing straighter than before.
I adjusted my glasses and walked into Class 8-A. I fumed to remember my bully for designing my face "huh" i sigh then i hear someone's greeting__
"Good morning, Miss Survivor," a cheerful voice called. Well I know she is good i left my past experience to trust others she seems like bright and honest girls that's why I attract to her personality.
I looked up to see Aileen Cortez, the same girl who had spoken to me before.
Aileen was pretty in a soft, doll-like way. She had shoulder-length chestnut hair, warm brown eyes, and the kind of smile that made people trust her instantly.
She was known as the class sweetheart.
Kind to everyone.
Terrible at keeping secrets.
And apparently incapable of speaking quietly.
"You look better today," she said, sliding into the seat beside me.
"Thank you."
Aileen lowered her voice dramatically.
"And for the record, if anyone ever bothers you again, I fully support legal revenge."
I blinked.
She grinned.
I laughed loudly at her expression and thought to my self in amusement that__can she do which she confidantly announce.
It was small.
But real.
"Legal revenge?" another voice cut in. I don't remember this voice but I understand i notice him with sweet heart.
A boy dropped into the chair in front of us and turned around backward.
This was Rafael "Raf" Mendoza.
If sunshine had a human form, it would probably look like Raf.
He had tousled brown hair, mischievous hazel eyes, and a smile that was always one second away from trouble.
Raf was the class clown.
Top five academically.
Bottom one in discipline.
He leaned his chin on his arms and whispered, "I prefer psychological warfare."
Aileen rolled her eyes.
"That's because you're dramatic."
Raf placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not dramatic. I'm artistically expressive."
I couldn't stop myself from smiling.
"Your ego is bigger than the school building," I said. I usually don't welcoming to strangers that is the rule i formed in my life but recently I started to break that rule and become more welcome to some people not for everyone.
Raf gasped. "Aileen, the transfer student roasted me before breakfast."
Aileen pressed a hand to her chest. "I'm so proud."
For the first time since transferring, my desk no longer felt like an island.
A Shadow in the Corridor
During second period, our class fell silent when a familiar figure passed by the open door.
Mark.
He wasn't looking inside.
Yet my pulse still quickened.
Raf followed my gaze and gave me a knowing look.
"Careful," he whispered.
I blinked. "What?"
He smirked. "Nothing."
Aileen nudged him sharply.
"Don't tease her."
"I'm not teasing," Raf said innocently. "I'm simply observing that our class president from the high school wing inspires unusual silence."
I lowered my eyes to my notebook, trying to hide the warmth rising to my cheeks.
Mark never looked at me.
But somehow, I still felt seen.
The Mysterious Senior Group
At lunch, Aileen and Raf dragged me to the canteen.
As we found a table, Raf leaned forward.
"Since you're new, you need to know the Holy Saint hierarchy."
"There's a hierarchy?" I asked.
"Obviously," he said. "This is a school, not a democracy."
Aileen pointed toward a table near the windows.
Three seniors sat there.
And in the center was Mark.
But he wasn't alone.
To his right sat a striking girl with silver-blonde hair and catlike eyes.
"That's Selene Rivera," Aileen whispered.
"Top of the senior class. Cold as ice. Rumor says she can make a teacher cry with one look."
Raf nodded solemnly. "I saw it happen."
On Mark's left lounged a handsome boy with wavy dark hair and a grin full of trouble.
"That," Raf said, "is Lucas Dela Cruz.
Certified menace. Flirts with everyone. Fails at it spectacularly."
As if on cue, Lucas said something that made Selene glare and Mark sigh.
Raf grinned.
"They're like a dysfunctional royal family."
I laughed softly.
The sound surprised me.
**************
Mark's POV
I noticed her laughing before I saw who she was with.
Jasper jean mariano
Jay Jay.
Her head tilted slightly back, green eyes bright behind her glasses, a smile softening the edges of her usually guarded expression.
For a moment, she looked younger.
Lighter.
Safe.
And I hated how much that relieved me.
"She's pretty when she smiles," Lucas said, appearing beside me with the subtlety of a car crash.
I shot him a warning look.
He only grinned wider.
"Oh," he said. "So it's like that."
"It's not."
Selene, without glancing up from her book, said, "Your denial is unconvincing."
I ignored both of them.
But my eyes drifted back to Jay Jay.
The protective pull in my chest returned.
Stronger than before.
Dangerously stronger.
***************
Jay Jay's POV
I felt his gaze before I found him.
Mark was looking at me.
Not for long.
Just a second.
But it was enough to send warmth rushing through me.
Not because he was handsome.
Though he was.
Not because he had saved me.
Though I would never forget that.
But because whenever he looked at me, I felt something rare.
Protected.
As if the world might still be cruel, but I wouldn't have to face it alone.
After School
When classes ended, Aileen and Raf walked with me to the gate.
Raf pointed to a group of boys playing basketball.
"If anyone bothers you, tell me."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly will you do?"
He puffed out his chest.
"I'll insult them creatively."
Aileen smiled. "He's surprisingly effective."
I laughed.
"You two are impossible."
"And yet," Raf said, "you like us."
I pretended to think.
"Maybe a little."
They both cheered dramatically.
For the first time in days, my chest felt lighter.
The Strange Feeling
As I turned onto the road home, a cool breeze swept past me.
The air tingled.
The silver bracelet on my wrist—one I had worn since childhood—grew unexpectedly warm.
I stopped walking.
For a split second, I heard a whisper.
A voice too soft to understand.
Then the feeling vanished.
My heart pounded.
What was that?
At the far end of the street, Mark stood beside his car.
Watching.
He didn't approach.
Didn't say anything.
But he stayed until I reached my gate.
Only then did he leave.
That night, I lay in bed turning his handkerchief over in my hands.
I still had a crush on him.
That much was obvious.
But more than that, I trusted him.
And trust, I was beginning to realize, was far more dangerous than attraction.
Because a handsome face can be forgotten.
But the feeling of safety?
That becomes impossible to let go of.
Outside my window, the moonlight touched the silver bracelet on my wrist.
For a brief moment, a faint symbol glowed beneath the metal.
Then disappeared.
I never saw it.
But somewhere in the city, Mark Keifer Watson did.
And for the first time in years—
He looked afraid.