JAY JAY POV
We went inside the house since the butlers had already opened the massive doors, and then we saw a woman coming down the grand staircase. She looked incredibly young and vibrant—if Mama hadn't told me she was an old friend, I would have guessed she was an older sister or a cool aunt.
"Jare and Jay?" she asked, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw us standing in the foyer.
We both nodded.
She didn't wait even a second; she rushed over and pulled me into a warm, tight hug. It wasn't one of those stiff, polite hugs either—it was the kind of hug that made you feel like you were finally home. I hugged her back, feeling the tension from my disastrous first day at school melt away just a little bit.
"I'm Serina," she said, pulling back to look at me with a wide, genuine smile.
"You both look so beautiful and handsome," she pointed out, her gaze shifting between me and Jare.
"Thanks, Tita," I said, feeling a bit shy under her intense but kind gaze.
"Yeah, I could see Jasfer's face and attitude in both of you," Tita said with a nostalgic chuckle.
I smiled. I always liked being compared to my parents; to me, that means I could become as great as they are someday. My Papa is my hero, and hearing that I have his "attitude"—which I prefer to call "charisma"—always makes my day.
"Come, let's go to the dining area," Tita Serina ushered us further into the house. "My sons should be down any minute. They are probably still cleaning up or, in my eldest's case, probably brooding in his room."
We followed her into a dining room that looked like it belonged in a palace. The table was already set, and the smell of home-cooked Filipino food was making my stomach growl loud enough for Jare to nudge me and smirk.
"Don't worry, Jay-Jay, I'm hungry too," he whispered.
Just as we were about to take our seats, I heard footsteps coming from the hall.
"Ah, there they are!" Tita Serina beamed. "Boys, come meet Jay-Jay and Jare!"
I turned around, expecting a nice, polite introduction. Maybe some cute guys who would tell me all the secrets of HVIS. But as the first guy walked into the light of the chandelier, my heart stopped.
The messy hair. The leather jacket. The arrogant tilt of the head.
It was Keifer.
The "King of the Assholes" from Section E was currently standing in Tita Serina's dining room, looking just as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
"YOU!" Keifer and I both yelled at the same time, our voices echoing off the high ceilings. I was pointing my finger at him like a weapon, and he was staring at me like I was a glitch in the matrix.
"Good, you two already met!" Tita Serina said, beaming as if she hadn't just introduced me to my worst nightmare.
"Is he the president?" Jare whispered, leaning in close.
I nodded slowly, my eyes never leaving Keifer's face. "The one and only," I muttered through gritted teeth.
"Mom, this is the girl you were talking about?" Keifer asked, looking at his mother like she had betrayed him by inviting a foreign invader into his home.
"Yes! Isn't she beautiful, Keifer?" Tita asked, clasping her hands together.
"Mom!" Keifer groaned, his face flushing with either annoyance or embarrassment—hard to tell with him. "Why didn't you tell me it was this girl?"
"Jare, I'm going back," I said, turning on my heel. I wasn't about to spend my evening being "beautiful" in front of a guy who spent all morning trying to make me feel like a stray cat in his section. "I'd rather eat that stale bread in our haunted apartment."
"Wait, wait, wait," Tita said, gently grabbing my arm to stop me. She then turned her gaze toward her eldest son, her expression shifting into that 'Mom mode' that works in every language. "Keifer, did you trouble this kind young lady?"
"Mom, she is not kind!" Keifer shot back, throwing his hands up. "She is anything but kind! Do you know what she said to me in front of the whole class? She called me a king with a lollipop!"
Tita gave Keifer a look—the kind of look that says I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it.
Keifer's shoulders slumped. He let out a long, frustrated sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fine. I will eat dinner," he muttered, sounding like a toddler forced to eat broccoli.
Just then, two other boys came down the stairs, their presence finally breaking the tension between me and the Lollipop King.
"Jay, Jare, these are my other two sons," Tita explained, gesturing toward them with a proud smile. "Keigan, the second youngest, and Keiran, the youngest of all."
Keigan looked like a more chilled-out version of Keifer, without the "I hate the world" expression. Keiran looked like he was about to burst with energy.
"So, you're the London cousins?" Keigan asked, offering a polite nod. "Ignore Keifer. He hasn't had his nap."
We sat down to eat, and of course—because the universe loves to play cruel jokes on me—my seat was right next to Keifer. Isn't that just peachy?
The table was filled with the most delicious-looking food, but I could barely taste the air because Keifer and I were too busy glaring at each other. If looks could kill, the two of us would be laying face-down in our adobo right now. Every time I reached for a serving spoon, he'd "accidentally" nudge my elbow. Every time he reached for the rice, I made sure to move the bowl just an inch out of his reach.
"So, how is London? Is everyone fine there?" Tita Serina asked, her voice light and cheerful, completely oblivious to the silent battle happening inches away from her.
"Everything is perfect, Tita," I said, forced to break my gaze from Keifer to give her a polite smile. "Mama and Papa are doing well. It's a bit gray and chilly, but London has its charm."
"London is boring," Keifer muttered under his breath, loud enough for only me to hear.
I stepped on his foot under the table. Hard. He winced but didn't make a sound, his jaw just tightened.
"So how did you come to the Philippines? Reycee was explaining, but I couldn't concentrate because I was so happy you guys were coming!" Tita Serina said, leaning forward with genuine interest.
"It was a student exchange program, Tita," Jare explained, calmly eating his food like a normal human being, unlike the two of us. "HVIS sent out invitations to a few international schools, and our principal selected the six of us."
"Really? That's so nice!" Tita said, clapping her hands. "An exchange program! That explains why you're in Keifer's section."
I nodded, trying to focus on my food instead of the heat radiating from Keifer sitting right next to me. I could feel his gaze on the side of my face, probably trying to mentally set my hair on fire.
Just then, we heard the heavy thud of the front door opening and closing.
"Looks like Victor is here," Tita said. Her voice went all sweet and airy—a tone I recognized immediately. It was the exact same way Mama called out for Papa when he got home from work. Even Tita's eyes were suddenly full of that soft, mushy love that made me want to either say "Aww" or gag, depending on my mood.
"Victor?" Jare asked, looking confused. He looked at me for an answer, but I was just as clueless for a second.
"Maybe Tita's husband," I whispered to Jare, leaning slightly away from Keifer.
Keifer, who must have ears like a bat, looked at me and gave a short, surprising nod. He wasn't smirking for once; he actually looked... normal? Well, as normal as an arrogant President can look.
"Victor is Mom's husband," Keifer replied, his voice lacking its usual bite.
I heard footsteps approaching the dining room—heavy, steady steps that commanded attention. A tall man in a sharp charcoal suit walked in, loosening his tie as he went. He had a serious face, but the moment he saw Tita, his expression softened completely.
"I'm back, Serina," he said, walking over to her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Tita beamed, her face glowing with more than just the dining room lights. "Victor, look! Our guests are finally here. These are Jasfher and Reycee's children—Jare and Jay-Jay."
Tito Victor turned his gaze toward us, his sharp eyes scanning our faces with an intensity that made me sit up a little straighter.
"Ahh, the twins you were talking about," Tito Victor started, his voice rumbling. "There also that—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes flicking toward Tita Serina. Whatever he was about to say seemed to vanish into thin air the moment he caught her expression. She didn't say anything, but there was a silent communication passing between them—one of those "not in front of the kids" looks that I've seen my own parents use a thousand times.
"That what, Tito?" Jare asked, leaning forward. My brother is like a bloodhound when he picks up on a secret; he won't let it go until he's sniffed out the truth.
"That… that.." Tito Victor started, but instead of finishing, he let out a nervous, booming laugh that sounded a bit too forced to be natural. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at us. "That… they look exactly like their parents! Yes, that's it! Spitting images!"
I narrowed my eyes. Liar, liar, pants on fire. He was definitely going to say something else. Something about "that" mystery that everyone seems to be keeping from us.
I glanced at Keifer. He was watching his dad with a suspicious frown, his fork hovering halfway to his mouth. Even the Lollipop King knew something was up. He wasn't as oblivious as he acted; he'd clearly caught that weird "that—" slip-up from Tito Victor, too.
"Anyway, since you kids are done with dinner, Keifer, why don't you show Jare and Jay the house?" Tita suggested, her voice regaining its usual cheerful melody.
Keifer rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck in his head. "Mom, they're a lot of— I mean, it's a big house, and I have things to do—"
He stopped mid-complaint because Tita gave him The Look. It was a silent, maternal death stare that could've stopped a stampede.
"Fine," he snapped, dropping his napkin on the table. "Follow me, London. Try not to trip over the expensive rugs; they cost more than your tuition."
I almost laughed. Idiot. One glare from his mom is enough to turn the "King of Section E" into a glorified tour guide. I shot a look at Jare, who was fighting back a smirk of his own.
"Lead the way, Watson," I said, standing up and smoothing out my shirt. "But if you try to lead us into a dark closet and lock the door, just know I have a black belt in London sarcasm."
"And I have a black belt in actual Karate, so choose wisely," Jare added, stepping up beside me.
Keifer just huffed and started walking. We followed him out of the dining room and into the massive hallway. The house was even more incredible up close. There were paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum and a staircase that curved like a literal work of art.
"This is the living area," Keifer said, waving a hand lazily toward a room with three oversized velvet sofas. "That's the library—don't go in there unless you want a lecture from Keigan And over there is the game room."
"A game room?" Jare's eyes lit up.
"Yeah, pool table, consoles, the works," Keifer said, leaning against a mahogany doorframe with that effortlessly annoying posture he always has.
That asshole actually showed us the entire house, though he did it with the enthusiasm of someone narrating a funeral. Just as we reached the end of a long hallway lined with expensive-looking vases, Jare's phone started vibrating in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and frowned. "It's Sarah. She's probably having a crisis over the humidity again. I'll take this in the game room," he said, shooting me a warning look that basically translated to don't kill him while I'm gone.
The second Jare disappeared around the corner, the atmosphere shifted. It went from "forced family tour" to "hostile standoff" in 0.5 seconds.
Keifer pushed off the doorframe and started walking toward me, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He stopped just a few inches away, looming over me with a smirk that felt like a challenge.
"So, London... tell me, when are you gonna move your section?" he asked, his voice dropping into that low, mocking tone he used at school.
I didn't back down. I stepped even closer, tilting my chin up until I was staring him right in his dark, infuriating eyes.
"I have a name, Asshole," I snapped, my voice laced with pure London ice. "And last I checked, my name isn't 'London.' Use it, or don't talk to me at all."
His expression darkened instantly. The playful mockery vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp intensity that made my heart do a traitorous little thud against my ribs. He leaned down, his face so close I could smell the faint scent of mint on his breath.
"Really?" he whispered, his eyes narrowing. "What is it then... Trashcan?"
I felt my blood boil. Trashcan?!
"You did NOT just call me that!" I hissed, my hands balling into fists. I was about two seconds away from swinging my fist at his smug face.
Keifer just chuckled, that deep, irritating sound that vibrated in his chest. "What is it?" he said, leaning in even closer to taunt me, his eyes mocking the steam practically coming out of my ears.
But then, the universe decided to intervene in the weirdest, messiest way possible.
I don't know what happened—maybe his shoe caught on the edge of the expensive rug he'd just bragged about, or maybe he just lost his balance—but in the next second, he tripped. Since we were already standing inches apart and so close to the wall, his momentum sent him crashing forward.
His hands flew out to steady himself, slamming against the wallpaper on either side of my head, effectively trapping me against the wall.
And then... total system failure.
The next thing I know is, well, this asshole's lips were on mine.
Time didn't just slow down; it stopped. My heart did a literal backflip and then forgot how to beat. His lips were soft, smelling faintly of that minty lollipop, and for a split second, the world went completely silent.
I froze, my eyes wide and staring into his closed ones. My brain was screaming ABORT MISSION, but my body was pinned against the wall like a butterfly in a display case.
And then, the unthinkable happened. This absolute, total, 100% grade-A asshole didn't just pull away. Instead of backing off and apologizing for being a clumsy idiot, Keifer actually started to deepen the kiss.
The world tilted. It wasn't just an accident anymore; it was an ambush. I could feel the heat of his hands on the wall beside my head and the faint scent of mint again, but this time it wasn't annoying—it was overwhelming. For a split second, I forgot my own name.
Then, reality snapped back like a rubber band hitting me in the face.
What am I doing?! This is the guy who called me Trashcan five minutes ago!
I shoved his chest with every ounce of-fueled rage I had in my body. He stumbled back, looking dazed, his pupils blown wide. He didn't even have time to utter a single "London" or "Trashcan" before I let my instincts take over.
THWACK.
I pulled back and gave him a hard, solid punch right in the jaw.
"SON OF A—!" Keifer yelped, clutching his face and stumbling into a nearby pedestal.
"YOU PERVERTED, LOLLIPOP-SUCKING FREAK!" I screamed, my chest heaving as I felt the sting in my knuckles. "That was my first kiss! And you... you tried to make it a moment?!"
"You punched me!" Keifer shouted back, his hand over his jaw as he glared at me, though he looked more shocked than angry. "I tripped! It was gravity, you violent lunatic!"
"Gravity doesn't deepen a kiss, Watson! That was all you!" I hissed, pointing a trembling finger at him. "Stay the hell away from me! If you even breathe in my direction at school tomorrow, I will finish what I started and break your nose!"
Jare came sprinting back into the hallway, his eyes darting between my fuming face and Keifer, who was literally cowering behind a vase while holding his jaw.
"What the— Jay-Jay?! Why did you just punch him" Jare yelled, looking like he was about to have a heart attack.