Jay-Jay's POV
I traced my fingers over the worn edges of the photo album, the leather cover soft from years of handling. Dust motes danced in the sunlight that filtered through my apartment window, catching each tiny particle like a constellation suspended in air. I sank into the couch, letting the familiar weight of the past settle over me. Each photo I lifted brought a flicker of life back into memories I had almost buried beneath years of ambition and distance.
I paused at a picture of Section E's classroom, taken the day after our final exams. Our last exam had ended that morning, and the air had been thick with relief, laughter, and the kind of chaotic energy that only young people know how to carry. I remembered it all so clearly, like it had been yesterday.
Flashback-
Ci-N, my eternally childish friend, had been perched on the edge of his chair, trying to balance a juice box in one hand and his notebook in the other. He was only fourteen then, far younger than the rest of us, but somehow smarter, sharper, and more calculated than anyone realized. I could still hear him squeak in surprise when Yuri, ever the tease, elbowed him gently.
"Careful, genius, or you'll drown in your own juice," Yuri had said, grinning. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back against the desk.
"Shut up!" Ci-N had muttered, voice high-pitched and panicked as the juice wobbled.
I had laughed, rolling my eyes at both of them, until—
"Jay-Jay!"
The memory snapped into vivid motion. Someone had spilled juice all over my desk—an entire orange-red puddle across my notebooks. My irritation flared instantly.
"Asshole!" I shouted, my voice echoing across the classroom. The room went silent. Every head turned toward me, mouths half-open, a perfect mix of shock and amusement.
Keifer, standing a few steps away, gave me that look—the one that was equal parts warning and fondness. His lips curved slightly, and he said, in a low voice that carried just enough for me to hear,
"Profanity."
And just like that, he was in front of me, eyes steady, hands gently but firmly holding my shoulders. My pulse skipped, and the chatter of the class dimmed to a low hum. He leaned in, and before I could protest, pressed his lips to mine. The warmth of him, the familiarity, and the sudden, unignorable intensity left me stunned.
When he pulled back, his gaze was calm, unflinching, but there was a weight in it—like he carried the quiet understanding of everything we had shared.
The classroom erupted into laughter, teasing, and whispers.
"Finally!" shouted Felix from the back.
"That's what she gets!" Mayo chimed in.
I shoved my face into my hands, cheeks burning red, but a small smile tugged at my lips despite myself. Ci-N gave me a thumbs-up, still a little confused but clearly impressed. Yuri leaned close, smirking, whispering,
"Worth every second, Jay-Jay."
And even in that chaos, I could feel Keifer's eyes on me, unwavering, as if he were silently claiming that moment, guarding it.
I turned the page in the album and paused again. There we were at the field day, all of Section E sprawled across the schoolyard, laughing so hard we could barely breathe. Keifer had shoved me playfully as I tried to sprint in the three-legged race with Ci-N.
"Move faster, Jay-Jay, or I'll drag you!" he had teased.
"I don't need dragging, Watson!" I had retorted, laughing so hard I nearly fell.
"Fine, then I'll kiss you if you curse again," he had said lightly, half in jest, half with that unmistakable seriousness that made my heart stumble.
I had rolled my eyes, trying to hide how much that tiny, ridiculous rule thrilled me. The entire class had known, of course, and every slip of my tongue was greeted with the same teasing gleam in Keifer's eyes.
Flipping through, I found the photo of our graduation day. The cap slightly tilted, my gown too long, and Keifer beside me, arms crossed, smirking.
"You'll miss me," he had said softly, just after our ceremony, when we had huddled together for a group photo.
"I'll survive," I had replied, though my voice cracked slightly, betraying the truth.
"No, you won't," he had whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. "But I'll be there, every step. Promise."
Ci-N had tugged at my sleeve, looking shyly at me. "You'll write me from college, right?"
"I'll write all the time," I had assured him.
Yuri had smirked, placing a hand on my shoulder. "And I'll keep him in line while you're gone."
Present-
That day had been bittersweet, filled with laughter and unspoken words. Even the mischief and chaos of the classroom seemed tempered with the looming reality of goodbyes.
I leaned back, holding the album to my chest. Those moments were gone, but they were alive inside me. Every laugh, every glance, every playful shove or teasing remark was stitched into my memory like a delicate embroidery of youth, care, and first love.
I remembered the scent of chalk dust, the hum of the classroom fans, the warmth of sunlight spilling across our desks. And I remembered him—Keifer—always near, always steady, the silent force that had shaped so many of my days.
A soft knock at the door brought me back. I smiled faintly, imagining him peering in, just as he had during our last school year. My fingers lingered on the bracelet he had given me, a subtle anchor to that past, to him.
Keifer's POV
I watched her from the doorway, quiet, reflective. She looked smaller than I remembered, yet the fire in her eyes had never dimmed. Seeing her laugh at the chaos of our classroom again, even in memory, reminded me of the boy who had dared to claim my heart so effortlessly. I had been too late in some ways, but every smile, every spark of rebellion, every fleeting touch was ours. And somehow, I hoped she still felt it, too.