It was a quiet Sunday.
No school. No errands. No distractions. Just the Navarro siblings lounging in the living room, Stranger Things paused on Netflix, and chicken nuggets waiting in the oven.
Bella was on the floor with her sketchpad. Gesly was lazily scrolling through his phone.
Andi? She was standing in front of them.
Arms crossed. Eyebrows raised. Wearing her I mean business face—the one usually reserved for budget breakdowns and monthly expense reports.
"Okay, listen." Bella looked up instantly. Gesly rolled his eyes.
"Whenever she says 'okay, listen,' a soul dies," he whispered to Bella. Bella giggled.
But this time, Andi was dead serious.
"I want us to talk about something important."
Gesly frowned. "Ate, if this is about my group project—"
"Sex," Andi said bluntly.
It was like an invisible grenade went off in the room.
Bella blinked. "Sex, po?"
Gesly groaned. Loudly. "Ate, come on—"
"Nope. Sit down. Shut up. Listen."
And they did. Because when Andi started talking, you had no choice but to listen. She had that tone—the kind that said, I love you, so I'll scar you now before life does it worse later.
"I know. You're not legal yet. But that doesn't mean you're not exposed to these things. Social media exists. Curiosity exists. Hormones exist. Let's not be stupid."
Bella tilted her head. "What's hormones?"
"Stuff in your body that makes you do dumb things—like catch feelings, get horny, and sometimes think your crush is your soulmate."
"Eww!" Bella yelled. Gesly looked like he wanted to teleport to the moon.
Andi didn't flinch. She continued—emotionless but informative, like a mom with a medical degree (which she did not have).
"Okay. Let me be clear: I understand that one day, you'll get curious. You'll want to explore. That's human. It's normal."
Bella's eyes went wide. Gesly muttered, "Oh my God…"
"But—and this is non-negotiable—you only do it when you're in a real relationship. Not because you're bored. Not because of peer pressure. Not because 'everyone's doing it.' And when you do it—use protection. Always."
She paced in front of them like a TED Talk speaker with emotional trauma.
"If you're a guy—use condoms. If you're a girl—get birth control shots. Both of you—get tested for HIV and other STDs."
Bella raised her hand. "What's STDs?"
"Things you get when you're careless. And they won't just break your heart—they'll break your immune system."
Gesly's face was bright red. "Ate, why are you saying all this now?!"
"Because I don't want you ending up like those kids no one talked to—kids who got fooled, abandoned, or pregnant. And I swear—if either of you gets pregnant or gets someone pregnant before the right time…" She looked at them dead serious. "I will disown you."
Bella gasped. Gesly stared.
"Ate, that's harsh—"
"It's true. I won't feed you. I won't defend you. I won't side with you. You make a stupid choice, you deal with it. That's it."
Silence.
Only the aircon hum and the oven's beeping could be heard.
Then Bella whispered, "So… no having a crush?"
Andi sighed, finally softening. She sat between them. "Having a crush isn't banned, Bella. Being stupid is." She pulled them into a side hug. "I know this is weird to talk about. But I want you to learn from me—not from the wrong person, or the wrong place."
"Like TikTok?" Gesly asked.
"Exactly," Andi said, letting out a dry laugh. "TikTok—and horny classmates who think unprotected sex is romantic."
"Gross," Bella said.
"Exactly again," Andi smiled.
---
If there was one thing Andi Navarro couldn't control—and God knows she tried—it was shopping.
Not the reckless kind. Not the max out the cards kind. But the calculated, style-driven, if-it-looks-good-it's-coming-home kind.
Every Saturday or Sunday, rain or shine, map or no map, they were at the mall. It was their version of bonding—a reward after a week of stress, school, and quiet sacrifices.
But for Andi, it was war.
A war between her brain that said, Save, you have responsibilities, and her fashionista soul that whispered, But look how good that jacket fits Gesly.
"Pak! You look like a princess. You just need shoes," she declared, pointing at Bella, who had just stepped out of the fitting room wearing a yellow sundress with puffed sleeves and lace details. The little girl twirled like a Disney princess.
"Ate, isn't this expensive?" Bella asked, clutching the tag with a terrifying number.
"Bella," Andi said seriously, "if it looks good, it's not expensive. It's an investment. You can't live in a world full of insecure people shopping in the Bitter Department."
Gesly snorted from the bench beside the fitting rooms, holding two paper bags—one with a new button-down polo, another with fresh white sneakers Andi said were 'pang-porma sa mga gala mo para magmukha kang maangas.'
"Next time, bring a cart. I'm not your mule," he complained.
"You're just too fun to dress up," Andi said, holding three hangers with a polo, jacket, and knitted vest. "You're like a walking Pinterest board. It's a crime not to maximize your potential."
They went store to store. She'd touch fabrics. Check stitching. Eye the sale racks like a hawk in heels. Sometimes she'd buy, sometimes not. But when she found something perfect for one of them—
No discussion. Swipe immediately.
"No matter how much it costs, it's worth it," she whispered to herself, watching Gesly try on a chocolate-brown bomber jacket. "You look like you have a trust fund—but with empathy. I love that."
"Ate, my arms are full. I have four bags already," Gesly groaned.
"Exercise. You know girls love biceps and abs."
Bella, meanwhile, quietly licked her soft-serve ice cream from the food court. "She's in her rich-tita era again," she muttered.
But after hours of walking, there was one thing Andi couldn't escape: sore feet.
She refused to wear flats. Absolutely not. Flats were for lazy days and defeated souls. Even in casual outfits, she wore 3-inch nude heels—from the food court to the grocery's wine section.
By 5 p.m., at their fifth boutique, she finally sat down on a bench, sighing heavily.
"Wait… my heels are stabbing me."
"Then buy Crocs," Gesly said, munching fries.
"You think I'd trade my dignity for rubber slippers? Don't insult me."
"I thought you were all about practicality," Bella chimed in.
Andi shot them both a look. "Practical doesn't mean ugly."
They ended the day with three shopping bags each, two new books from the bookstore, a giant box of takoyaki to share at home, and one pair of emergency slippers Andi finally gave in to buy because she just couldn't take it anymore.
"My feet have trauma. They might resign."
Andi Navarro—in all her practicality and planning—had one flaw: fashion.
But if her siblings looked good, if they walked with confidence, if they felt proud of who they were becoming…
Then she'd limp in heels and overspend for it.
Every damn time.