JAY JAY POV
Later that night, as I was trying to figure out if the shadow in the corner of my room was a ghost or just a pile of Sarah's discarded hair extensions, my phone started buzzing.
It was a video call from Mama.
"Jay-Jay! I forgot to tell you—your Dad's childhood friend lives in the Philippines," Mama said the second I picked up.
She looked way too energetic for someone in a different time zone. "You should really meet her. Her son goes to HVIS, too!"
"What's her name?" I asked, leaning my phone against a dusty lamp.
"Serina," Mama said, her expression softening. "She is really kind, and she has three sons. She can help you adjust to the area."
"Serina... I like her name," I admitted. It sounded elegant, which was a nice change of pace from this crusty apartment.
Mama chuckled. "Good. Now, sweetheart, after school tomorrow, you and Jare should go meet her. I'll send you the address."
"I guess it depends on how hectic the day is, but Jare and I will try," I said. Honestly, if Serina lived in a house that didn't have peeling wallpaper, I was willing to move in with her immediately.
Suddenly, Papa's face popped into the frame
"How is it over there? You guys settling in?"
"Papa!" I groaned, turning the camera around to show him the cracked ceiling and the questionable stains on the carpet. "This place looks like it's haunted! We were promised a villa, but we got a 'thriller' music video set instead. I'm pretty sure a rat just asked me for rent."
Papa laughed, though I could see a hint of relief in his eyes that I was still complaining about normal things. "It builds character, Princess. Besides, once you meet Serina, things will feel more like home. Just... stay close to Jare, okay?"
"I know, I know. I'm practically his shadow at this point," I rolled my eyes.
We said our goodbyes, and I sat there in the dark, thinking. Serina. Three sons. One of them goes to HVIS.
++++NEXT DAY++++++++
We stood in the Principal's office, trying to look like the "elite" exchange students London had promised.
The air conditioning was blasting, which was the only thing keeping me from having a total meltdown.
"Welcome, students! So, how are you liking HVIS so far? Is the accommodation to your liking?" the Principal asked, peering over her spectacles with a polite smile.
Dave's mouth popped open—I knew he was about to launch into a thirty-minute presentation on the lack of room service and the suspicious scratching sounds in the walls—but Jare's elbow found his ribs before he could utter a word.
"It's amazing, ma'am. We're adjusting just fine," Jare lied through his teeth, his voice as smooth as silk.
I glanced at him. Amazing? Since when is a haunted apartment "amazing"?
Sarah rolled her eyes so hard I thought she'd see her brain. She clearly didn't appreciate Jare's "diplomacy."
The Principal chuckled, appearing satisfied.
"Good to hear. Now, here are your class assignments." She handed each of us an elegant white envelope with our names embossed in gold.
We shuffled out of the office and huddled in the hallway like we were opening lottery tickets.
Sarah went first, ripping hers open with perfectly manicured nails.
"Section A," she announced, tossing her hair. "Naturally. The universe knows where I belong."
"Section C," Dave muttered, looking slightly disappointed
"Section B!" Mia chirped, showing her card to Jare.
"Section C," Ben added, already checking his camera settings to see if the lighting in the C-wing was good.
Jare opened his last. "Section B." He looked at Mia, and I saw that tiny, relieved smirk cross his face. At least he got to be with his crush.
Then, there was me. I slowly pulled the card out of my envelope. My heart dropped.
"Section E," I said, the letter feeling like a weight in my hand.
"Wait, wait," Dave frowned, counting on his fingers. "I thought there were five sections? A, B, C, D, and E."
"Yeah, there are," Ben agreed, looking confused.
"But... nobody got D?" I pointed out. We looked at each other. Five sections, six of us, and yet Section D was completely skipped. It felt... weird. Like a hole in the middle of a bridge.
"It doesn't matter," Ben said, trying to be the peacemaker. "At least we have each other. We're all in the same school."
"Not really, Ben," Sarah countered, crossing her arms. "You and Dave are in C. Mia and Jare are in B. But Jay-Jay and I are in different sections entirely, and Jay is all the way at the back of the campus in E."
"It's okay, guys," I said, forcing a smile to settle their nerves. "We're all going to the same school anyway. We'll meet up at lunch and compare which section has the cutest boys and the best Wi-Fi."
I stood at the edge of the path, staring at the Section E building. "Isolation" was an understatement.
It was separated from the rest of the high-tech, marble-floored HVIS campus by a literal forest and a fence that looked like it had seen better days.
Thick, green vines crawled up the sides of the old stone walls, making the building look like it was being swallowed by the jungle.
"Okay, definitely not the best," I muttered to myself, clutching the straps of my backpack.
"It's the least section. The forgotten one."
I took a deep breath, adjusted my hair, and pushed open the wooden doors.
I stepped inside and was immediately met by four guys standing right by the door, acting like literal human gatekeepers.
One of them was leaning against the doorframe, lazily sucking on a lollipop.
I stared for a second too long.
I mean, can you blame me?
He looked like he walked straight out of a Wattpad story—messy hair that looked perfectly unkempt, a leather jacket despite the Philippine heat, and a jawline so sharp it could probably slice through my bad attitude.
Seriously, he was everything you'd want to see in my future partner.
"Excuse me... is this the Section E building?" I asked.
The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to facepalm. Of course it was. The giant, half-broken sign outside literally said so.
Great job, Jay-Jay. Way to make a brilliant first impression.
The guy with the lollipop didn't answer right away.
He just pulled the stick out of his mouth with a slow, deliberate pop and looked me up and down, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.
His eyes were dark and full of mischief, like he already knew he was going to be the biggest headache of my life.
"No, this isn't it. Go back to the main building," he said flatly. The three guys behind him barked out a laugh, clearly enjoying the show.
I really didn't like his attitude. For a split second, I had a very vivid mental image of shoving that lollipop down his throat, but I managed to keep my hands to myself. Barely.
"The sign says—" I started, gesturing toward the building.
"Are you deaf? Leave. This isn't Section E," he repeated, his voice louder and more aggressive this time.
Asshole.
I glared at him, my blood boiling. Just as I was about to turn on my heel and march back to find a principal to complain to, the wooden door creaked open and a teacher stepped out.
"Jasper Jean Mariano?" the man asked, looking at a clipboard.
I nodded, still fuming.
"Oh, good! The new student. I'm Sir Alvin. Come on in, this is indeed Section E," he said, gesturing for me to follow.
I whipped my head around to look at the boy.
He wasn't even pretending to be sorry; he was just standing there smirking at me, looking like he'd just won a prize.
Total asshole.
Then Sir Alvin turned to the guy, oblivious to the silent war happening between us. "Keifer, this is the new student," he said. Then he looked at me. "Miss Mariano, this is Mark Keifer Watson. He's the president of Section E."
President? More like King of the Assholes, I thought, rolling my eyes so hard it actually hurt.
I brushed past him, making sure to hit his arm with my bag as I stepped into the classroom.
The second I crossed the threshold, I almost fainted. I scanned the room once, twice, three times—nothing.
There were no girls. Not a single one.
It was a sea of testosterone, messy desks, and guys who looked like they'd just come from a street fight.
"Miss Mariano, mind introducing yourself to the class?" Sir Alvin asked, oblivious to my internal crisis.
I felt fifty pairs of eyes lock onto me. I cleared my throat, trying to find that London sass that usually never failed me.
"I'm Jasper Jean Mariano," I said, my voice echoing in the sudden silence. "But you can call me Jay-Jay. I just moved here from London, and if the rest of the school is as welcoming as your president, I'm sure we're going to have a great time."
I dropped my bag on the only empty desk—which, of course, was right in the middle of the lion's den.
"London?!" one guy shouted, breaking the silence. "Is it true people there eat beans for breakfast?"
"Did you bring any British chocolate?" another piped up, leaning over his desk to get a better look at me.
I sat down, ignoring them
After some time, the second bell rang.
Sir Alvin gathered his things and headed out, but before the next teacher could even step through the door, the room erupted into total chaos.
It was like someone had pressed a "play" button on a riot. Guys were wrestling in the back, someone threw a crumpled piece of paper that nearly hit me, and the noise level was deafening.
I sighed, feeling a massive headache coming on, and pulled out my phone.
I went straight to the LITTLE SIX group chat to see if my friends were suffering as much as I was.
LITTLE LITTLE SIX
ME: SOMEONE SECURE THE PERIMETER. I am the only girl in Section E. I repeat: THE. ONLY. GIRL. 💀 It's a literal man-cave in here.
SARAH: Wait, what?! For real?! Jay, I'm in Section A and this girl named Freya is apparently the Queen Bee. She's already looking at me like I'm a fashion disaster. And the president? Aries? He's kind of hot, too bad he has a girlfriend. 🙄
MIA: Oh no, Jay-Jay! No other girls? How will you survive? Do you need me to transfer?! 😭
JARE: Jay-Jay, I'm serious. Stay away from them. I heard Section E is where the school puts the "untouchables." Just keep your head down. I'll meet you at lunch.
BEN: Untouchables? Sounds like great material for my portfolio. 📸
DAVE: Forget the boys, I heard Section E has the best chef or cook Jay, check if they have rice meal's nearby!! 🍛
I was about to reply to Sarah about "Aries" and his girlfriend when the classroom door slammed shut.
The chaos died down instantly. It wasn't the next teacher who walked in, though.
It was Keifer.
He had stepped out for a second and was now walking back to his seat, but he stopped right next to my desk. He caught a glimpse of my phone screen before I could hide it.
"Little Six?" he muttered, reading the group name with an amused snort. He leaned down, his face a few inches from mine, smelling like that minty lollipop. "Cute name. Is that your support group for when you realize you can't handle real life outside your palace?"
"It's a group chat, Watson. Ever heard of friends? Or do you just have 'henchmen'?" I snapped, locking my phone.
He leaned in even closer, his eyes darkening. "You know you need to keep your voice down, London," he said, his tone dropping into a low, warning rumble.
I didn't even hesitate. I stood up from my seat, closing the distance between us until we were nearly chest-to-chest.
"Just like you should keep your mouth—and yourself—away from me," I shot back, my voice laced with pure sarcasm.
"What the fu—" he started, his eyes widening in actual shock.
Nobody in this room probably ever talked back to him, but I wasn't 'nobody.'
"Language, President," I interrupted, crossing my arms and looking him up and down. "Is this how you treat a student from a different country? Clearly, someone or somebody didn't teach you a lesson on manners growing up. It's embarrassing, really."
The entire classroom went dead silent. You could literally hear a pin drop.
The guys who were wrestling earlier were now frozen, staring at us like they were watching a championship boxing match.
Even the guy with the broomstick stopped moving.
Keifer's jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought he was going to snap. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of my desk.
"You have no idea where you are, do you?" he hissed. "Manners don't keep you safe in Section E."
"And a lollipop doesn't make you a king," I countered, my heart racing but my gaze steady.
"Enough!" Ms. Rodriguez's voice boomed from the front. She was staring at us with her arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Mr. Watson, sit down before I give you a week of detention. And Miss Mariano, since you have so much to say, the chalk is waiting. Move."
Apparently, she is our math teacher. I just learned it by glancing at the nameplate on her desk:
Ms. Rodriguez.
Perfect.
My first day in the "jungle" and I'm already playing a high-stakes game of Sudoku at the chalkboard.
I walked up to the front, feeling Keifer's eyes like a laser beam on the back of my head.
The equation on the board was a mess of variables and square roots—the kind of stuff that usually makes people want to cry.
But Ms. Rodriguez didn't know one thing: my parents had hired the strictest tutors in London. I could do this in my sleep.
I grabbed the chalk and started writing.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The room was so quiet I could hear someone's stomach growl in the back.
I didn't hesitate; I broke down the formula, canceled out the variables, and finished with a final, sharp stroke of the chalk on the answer.
I turned around, wiped the chalk dust off my hands, and met Ms. Rodriguez's gaze. She blinked, looking the board over twice.
"Correct," she said, sounding almost disappointed that she couldn't give me a lecture. "Sit down, Miss Mariano. And try to keep your debate sessions for the hallway."
I sauntered back to my seat