Chapter Text
The bookstore had that familiar late-afternoon stillness, soft music playing somewhere above the ceiling, pages turning in uneven rhythms, the occasional hum of the air conditioner blending with distant café chatter. It wasn’t completely silent, but it was the kind of noise that didn’t demand attention. Gabrielle liked places like this. Controlled quiet. Predictable movement. No surprises unless you looked for them.
She stood in the psychology section, slightly angled toward the shelf so she wasn’t blocking the aisle. Sixteen, but already comfortable in spaces most teenagers didn’t usually choose on their own. Her fingers traced the spine of a book she had already decided she might buy, not because she needed convincing, but because she liked confirming her own decisions twice. It was a habit she didn’t question anymore.
“People are louder than they think they are,” she thought absently, eyes drifting away from the titles.
A couple near the fiction aisle was debating over which book to get, the girl clearly winning by tone alone. A child was dragging a parent toward the coloring books, persistence written all over tiny movements. Even the staff moved with quiet urgency, like the store itself had its own rhythm.
Gabby noticed all of it before she even fully processed the words in front of her. She always did.
The entrance bell suddenly rang, sharp, too bright for the atmosphere. Gabby didn’t look immediately. People came and went. Most didn’t matter enough to interrupt her focus.
“Ranzen, bilisan mo, I swear maiiwan na naman tayo dahil sayo,” a voice cut through the calm, entirely unbothered by volume.
Gabby paused.
That was… loud.
Against her better judgment, her eyes shifted slightly toward the entrance.
A girl stepped in first, moving like she already owned the space. Her clothes were slightly loose, hair tied in a way that looked rushed but intentional in its own chaotic way. She was talking while walking, gesturing with one hand as if the bookstore was just another extension of the outside world.
Behind her, a boy followed, shoulders slumped like he had accepted defeat early.
“Shane, pwede ba hinaan mo boses mo?” the boy—Ranzen, apparently—said, but his whisper was still loud enough to contradict itself.
“Huh? Hindi naman ako maingay,” Shane replied immediately, even louder, already scanning shelves like she had a mission.
Gabby blinked once.
So that was Shane.
She didn’t look like someone who understood silence. She moved too fast, spoke too freely, filled every small gap in conversation without hesitation. Gabby found herself watching despite not meaning to.
Shane leaned toward a display of novels near the entrance. “Boi tamo, bakit ang daming books about heartbreak? Ang dramatic naman ng mga tao dito.”
Ranzen sighed. “Because people have feelings?”
“Overrated,” Shane said simply.
Gabby’s gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary before she forced herself to look back at her own shelf. She pulled a book halfway out, then paused when Shane’s voice grew closer.
They were walking deeper into the store now.
Of course.
“Wait, psychology section ‘to?” Shane said suddenly, reading the overhead sign. “Ano ba meron dito, brain stuff?”
“Emotions, behavior, mental processes,” Ranzen answered automatically.
Shane nodded like she understood none of it but was entertained anyway. “So basically… overthinking?”
Gabby almost exhaled a laugh but stopped herself.
Shane’s laugh followed immediately after her own comment, like she found herself funny more than anything else. Then, as if on cue, a staff member appeared from behind the counter.
“Miss, paki hinaan po ng boses,” the staff said politely, though the tone carried experience.
Shane turned instantly. “Ay, sorry po.” Then, once the staff walked away, she leaned closer to Ranzen again and whispered…or tried to.
“Grabe naman dito, parang library ng multo.”
Ranzen groaned under his breath. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”
Gabby finally looked away properly, focusing again on her book. She told herself it wasn’t her concern. It wasn’t her business.
But Shane kept moving.
Closer.
The psychology aisle.
Gabby’s fingers tightened slightly on the book spine without her noticing.
Shane stopped near the same section Gabby was in, tilting her head as she scanned the titles. “Ranz, saan dito yung tungkol sa—”
She stepped forward at the exact same time Gabby shifted slightly to pull a book from the shelf.
It was small. Almost nothing. A fraction of movement.
But enough.
Shane’s elbow clipped the edge of a nearby display.
Everything happened fast after that.
A stack of psychology books tilted.
Then another.
Then the entire display collapsed like it had been waiting for permission.
Hardcovers hit the floor in uneven rhythm, echoing louder than they should have in a space meant for quiet.
Silence followed immediately.
Even the café chatter seemed to fade.
Gabby froze for half a second, then looked down at the mess near her feet. Books were scattered across the floor, some face-down, some slightly open like they had been interrupted mid-thought. One had landed right beside her shoe.
Shane stood completely still.
“…ah,” she said slowly. “That’s… not ideal.”
Ranzen closed his eyes briefly like he was preparing for emotional damage.
“Shanelle.”
A staff member from the counter looked up sharply.
Gabby exhaled once, controlled. Then she bent down and picked up the nearest book without a word, brushing its cover lightly before placing it on a small pile she started forming.
Shane immediately crouched beside her. “Wait, no, ako na—sorry talaga, I didn’t see—”
“It’s fine,” Gabby said, tone even.
Shane paused mid-reach.
That was the first time she actually looked at Gabby properly.
Not just someone standing there.
Someone who wasn’t reacting the way most people would.
Shane’s expression shifted slightly—embarrassment still there, but now mixed with curiosity. “Hindi talaga ako usually ganito,” she said quickly. “Like, I swear I’m not clumsy, it’s just bad timing.”
Gabby handed her another book. “Mm.”
Shane frowned slightly. “That sounded like you don’t believe me.”
Gabby glanced at her briefly. “I don’t know you.”
Shane blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Fair enough.”
They worked side by side after that. Shane picked up books faster, but often stacked them unevenly. Gabby corrected the piles without commenting, aligning edges carefully before setting them down. Ranzen hovered nearby, still looking like he was debating whether to disappear.
“Sorry ulit ha,” Shane said after a few minutes, voice softer now. Less loud. More real.
Gabby nodded once. “Just be careful next time.”
Shane straightened slightly, then smiled, small, almost relieved. “Noted.”
A pause.
Then, with absolute confidence, she added, “Bookstore Girl.”
Gabby stopped.
Slowly turned her head.
“Don’t call me that,” she said flatly.
Shane’s grin widened like she had just successfully accomplished something important. “Too late na.”
Ranzen sighed again. “We are so leaving.”
Shane ignored him completely, still smiling as she stepped back.
“Shane, by the way,” she said casually, like the entire incident hadn’t just happened.
Gabby hesitated for half a second, then gave a small nod. “Gabrielle.”
“Nice,” Shane said. Then, like it was the most normal thing in the world, she turned away and started walking again, already talking about something else with Ranzen.
Too loud again. Back to normal.
Gabby stayed where she was for a moment longer than necessary, looking at the reorganized pile of books.
One of them had fallen open earlier and was still slightly bent at the spine.
She picked it up, smoothing the page absentmindedly.
“…Ingay,” she muttered under her breath, though her hands didn’t fully let go of the book yet.
Across the aisle, Shane’s voice echoed again—laughing, already moving on like nothing had happened.
Gabby didn’t know why, but she found herself listening a little longer than she should have.
Just until the noise faded into the rest of the bookstore.
———
The school gates were already crowded when Irene’s car slowed to a stop near the drop-off lane. Students in crisp uniforms moved in clusters, laughter spilling into the humid morning air, footsteps echoing against concrete like a rhythm that never really stopped. Gabby sat in the passenger seat for a moment longer after the engine turned off, eyes quietly scanning everything outside as if she was memorizing the place before even stepping into it.
Irene looked at her gently. “Ready ka na?”
Gabby adjusted the strap of her bag. “Opo.”
There was a small pause. Irene always did that—like she was checking for something unsaid.
“New environment, new class” Irene said softly. “If it gets overwhelming, you don’t have to adjust all at once, okay?”
Gabby nodded once. “Alam ko po.”
That answer seemed to satisfy her aunt, but only halfway. Irene reached over and lightly fixed Gabby’s collar, smoothing it down in a gesture that felt more grounding than necessary.
“Text me later. Update mo din sina Kuya mo.” Irene added.
“I always do,” Gabby replied, stepping out after.
The car pulled away slowly behind her, leaving her standing at the edge of the school entrance. For a second, she just watched the movement around her. Groups already forming. People greeting each other like nothing had changed. Familiarity everywhere except her.
She stepped forward.
Inside the gates, noise softened into layers instead of one overwhelming sound. Gabby walked with steady steps, not rushing, not hesitating. Her eyes moved constantly, reading faces, expressions, patterns.
A girl near the lockers was fixing her hair three times in a row, clearly anxious about something. A boy kept checking his phone even though there were no new notifications. Two classmates were laughing too loudly, slightly forced.
Gabby noticed all of it.
She always did.
By the time she reached her classroom, it was still mostly empty. Early students were scattered across seats, some claiming spots like territory. Gabby chose one near the middle—not too visible, not too hidden. She sat down carefully, placing her bag beside her chair and folding her hands over it.
She didn’t take out her things yet.
She waited.
And watched.
People started arriving in waves. A girl with long hair entered confidently and immediately greeted three people at once. A boy slouched into a seat at the back like he had already decided the year was going to be exhausting. Another group arrived laughing, already mid-conversation about something from summer.
Gabby observed without participating.
Same pattern. New faces.
Then, the door opened harder than it needed to.
“Ranzen, bilis! Ang tagal mo talaga, first day pa lang oh—”
Gabby’s pen froze in her hand.
That voice.
She knew it before she even looked.
Heads turned automatically.
Shane walked in first, slightly breathless but grinning like she had just won something instead of almost being late. Her uniform was slightly loose in places, bag hanging carelessly from one shoulder. Behind her, Ranzen followed, expression already resigned.
“Shanelle, first day pa lang, pwede bang hinaan mo boses mo?” Ranzen muttered.
Shane didn’t even look guilty. “Hindi pa naman late, relax ka.”
Her eyes scanned the room briefly—and landed on Gabby.
She stopped.
Just like that.
The shift was immediate. Like someone had pressed pause on her momentum.
Gabby didn’t move.
They stared at each other for a second that felt slightly too long for two strangers who technically weren’t strangers anymore.
Shane tilted her head slightly. “Wait.”
Gabby already knew what was coming.
“You,” Shane said, pointing slightly as if confirming her own memory. “Bookstore girl.”
A few students nearby looked between them.
Gabby exhaled slowly through her nose.
“Gabrielle,” she corrected flatly.
Shane stepped forward like she needed visual confirmation. “Oh my God, ikaw pala ‘yon.”
Ranzen groaned quietly behind her. “Shane, uy nakakahiya parang gago. Sorry pre.”
But Shane was already smiling.
“What are the odds, diba?” she said, still standing instead of sitting. “Same school, same class, tapos ikaw pa rin?”
“Unfortunate,” Gabby said under her breath, already turning slightly away.
Shane laughed, clearly amused. “Grabe ka naman.”
She finally moved deeper into the room, still looking at Gabby like she had discovered something interesting instead of inconvenient.
Gabby focused on her desk.
She did not look again.
The classroom slowly settled as the teacher walked in, clapping once to get attention. Conversations faded into murmurs. Chairs scraped lightly as students adjusted themselves. Gabby sat straighter without thinking, eyes forward.
Shane, beside her, was still whispering something to Ranzen.
“Okay class,” the teacher began, scanning a paper. “Since first day pa lang, I’ll assign seats para mas organized.”
A few groans rippled through the room.
Gabby didn’t react.
“Catacutan, Shanelle—”
Gabby’s hand tightened slightly around her pen.
“Apuli, Gabrielle, beside her.”
The classroom barely reacted.
Gabby did.
Very slightly.
A pause. A small stillness.
Behind her, a chair scraped.
“Ha?” Shane said immediately. “Wait, saan po?”
The teacher pointed vaguely. “Diyan.”
Shane turned fully.
Gabby already knew she was about to move.
Footsteps approached.
Too casual. Too confident for someone entering someone else’s space.
Then Shane dropped into the seat beside her.
Closer than necessary.
“Hi,” Shane said like nothing had ever gone wrong between them.
Gabby stared forward.
No reaction.
Shane leaned slightly closer to her desk. “We meet again.”
Gabby finally turned her head just enough to look at her.
Expression unchanged.
“Unfortunately,” she said.
Shane blinked, then smiled like that was the exact reaction she expected.
“Ang lamig mo talaga,” she muttered, amused.
“I’m not cold,” Gabby replied, already opening her notebook. “You’re just loud.”
Shane gasped softly like she had been offended on principle.
“I’m not loud,” she whispered dramatically.
Gabby didn’t respond.
But Shane clearly wasn’t done.
“So,” she said, leaning back slightly but still invading the space like it belonged to her now. “Anong subjects mo? Electives?”
“I don’t know,” Gabby answered without looking up.
“You don’t know your schedule?”
“I didn’t memorize it.”
Shane stared at her like that was fascinating rather than concerning. “Grabe. You really don’t care, no?”
“I care about important things,” Gabby said simply.
Shane placed a hand over her chest like she had been personally insulted again. “Wow. Am I not important?”
Gabby finally looked at her again.
A pause.
Then, very flatly.
“No.”
Shane laughed out loud, immediately earning a look from the teacher.
“Shhh,” someone behind them whispered sharply.
Shane lowered her voice, but only slightly. “Okay, okay. Not important. Not yet.”
Gabby turned back to her notebook.
“…not yet?” she repeated under her breath, almost like she didn’t mean to say it aloud.
Shane leaned a little closer again, voice quieter this time but still far too alive for the room.
“Yeah,” she said. “I feel like I’ll annoy you a lot this year.”
Gabby didn’t respond.
But her pen paused for half a second longer than necessary.
Across the room, students were still settling into their seats, introductions still happening, noise slowly building again.
But somehow, beside her, Shane made the space feel louder even when she was trying to be quiet.
Gabby exhaled softly.
This was going to be a long year.
The classroom door opened again, this time without drama, just a quiet creak that still managed to pull attention because of how late it was in the morning rush.
A girl stepped in.
No apology spoken immediately. No rushed explanation. Just a calm scan of the room like she was assessing where she had landed rather than asking permission to exist in it.
“Sorry po, I’m late,” she said simply, voice even.
The teacher nodded once. “Take a seat.”
She didn’t rush. Didn’t look flustered. Just walked forward with steady steps, uniform neat, bag hanging properly on one shoulder.
Gabby noticed her immediately.
Not because she was loud.
Because she wasn’t.
Cole sat somewhere near the back without hesitation, placing her bag down and pulling out her notebook like she had already planned her entire day despite arriving late.
Shane leaned slightly toward Gabby.
“Ang intimidating naman nun,” she whispered.
Gabby didn’t look away from the front. “Mm.”
Shane squinted. “You agree or you don’t care?”
“I observe,” Gabby said flatly.
Shane grinned. “Same thing.”
Gabby did not respond.
But she noticed Cole again anyway, how she didn’t talk to anyone, how she didn’t need to.
“Okay, next,” the teacher announced, glancing at the list again. “Ricalde, Marielle—”
A girl stood up from the front row and moved toward her assigned seat.
She was quiet, but not shy. There was a softness in how she carried herself, like she was used to listening more than speaking, but not afraid to speak when needed.
She ended up beside Shane.
Shane immediately straightened.
“Hello,” Shane said instantly, like silence was a personal challenge.
Marielle glanced at her briefly. “Hi.”
That was it.
Shane blinked.
Then smiled wider.
“Bet kita,” Shane said honestly.
Marielle paused slightly, then looked at her again. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t ignore me,” Shane replied.
Marielle stared for a second longer.
Then, smallest hint of amusement.
“Low bar.”
Shane laughed.
Gabby, two seats away, slowly lowered her pen for a second.
This is going to get louder, she thought.
And she wasn’t wrong.
“Arceta, Aiyana.”
A girl stood immediately, organized even in the way she adjusted her bag. She walked to the board where the teacher had left marker pens scattered and, without being told, started arranging them by color and cap direction.
The teacher noticed. “Ah, thank you.”
Aya just nodded.
No extra words.
Then—
“Lim, Mikaela.”
Another girl stood.
She walked, but instead of sitting immediately, she glanced at the seating chart, then raised a hand slightly.
“Sir, mali po yung spelling ng isang name sa board,” she said bluntly.
The teacher blinked. “Saan?”
Mikaela pointed. “Dito po. It’s ‘Sevilleja,’ not ‘Sevilija.’”
A pause.
Then the teacher sighed. “Ah. Thank you, Lim.”
Mikaela sat down like she had just completed a minor correction in the universe.
Shane leaned closer to Gabby again.
“Grabe, ang scary nila,” she whispered.
Gabby glanced briefly. “Efficient.”
“Same thing again?”
“No.”
Shane smiled anyway. “I think they’d win arguments for a living.”
Gabby didn’t answer.
But she agreed internally.
The recitation started earlier than expected.
“Who can explain the basic functions of behavior in psychology?” the teacher asked.
A hand shot up immediately.
Then another.
Then another.
But one stood first.
“Robles.”
The girl from earlier stood again.
Her voice was confident, clear, almost effortless as she answered. She didn’t rush. Didn’t search for words. She already had them.
As she finished, another voice cut in.
“Actually, sir, there’s also a behavioral reinforcement angle that connects more to operant conditioning rather than just basic function…”
The class shifted slightly.
The teacher raised a brow. “Name, hija?”
The second girl stood.
“Sevilleja, Stella po.”
Composed. Controlled. Calm in a way that didn’t feel soft, it felt deliberate.
Jade turned slightly toward her.
Not annoyed.
Interested.
“Go on,” Jade said smoothly, like this was suddenly a discussion rather than a recitation.
Stella didn’t hesitate.
She continued her point, voice even, precise.
A small debate formed.
Not loud.
Not messy.
But sharp.
Gabby watched without meaning to.
Shane leaned in again. “Uy, may laban.”
Gabby nodded slightly. “They think differently.”
Shane smiled. “You sound like a teacher.”
“I don’t,” Gabby said immediately.
Shane grinned. “You kind of do.”
The discussion ended cleanly when the teacher intervened, satisfied with both answers.
Stella sat down without looking around too much.
Composed again.
Controlled again.
But Jade kept looking at her for a second longer than necessary before finally turning forward.
Gabby noticed that.
Shane noticed it too, but didn’t comment.
For once.
There was something in the air after that moment. Subtle, like a thread had been pulled even if no one admitted it.
A group was forming, whether they intended it or not.
Cole at the back—quiet but observant.
Marielle beside Shane—already softening the noise around her.
Aya organizing without being asked.
Mikaela correcting without hesitation.
Jade challenging without fear.
Stella responding without emotion—but not without depth.
And then—
Shane leaned back slightly in her chair.
“Ang weird,” she whispered.
Gabby didn’t look at her. “What?”
Shane tilted her head slightly toward the room.
“Parang may something sakanila.”
Gabby paused for half a second.
Then returned to her notebook.
“Don’t overthink,” she said.
Shane smiled faintly.
“I don’t think I am.”
But for once, even she didn’t sound entirely sure.
The discussion eventually died down as the teacher erased the board, leaving behind faint traces of marker ink and half-finished diagrams. The energy in the room had shifted since the morning started. People were beginning to relax. Conversations came easier now. Names slowly attached themselves to faces.
Shane had already somehow established herself as the unofficial source of background noise.
Gabby had unfortunately established herself as the person most exposed to it.
Marielle, seated beside Shane, was now quietly answering a barrage of random questions.
“So you transferred here?”
“Hindi.”
“Ah. Same school before?”
“Same school.”
“Oh. Favorite color?”
Marielle blinked.
“Favorite color?”
“Yeah. Para alam ko if we can be friends.”
A smile escaped Marielle despite herself.
“Yellow.”
“Nice. Mine changes every month.”
Gabby stared at her notebook.
“How is that even possible?” Marielle asked softly.
“Nabobored ako eh.”
From the back, Cole let out the smallest huff of amusement, though she never looked up from the book she had been reading.
Meanwhile, Aya had already volunteered to distribute worksheets without being asked, while Mikaela was quietly correcting the date format written on the board.
Jade and Stella, on opposite sides of the room, had somehow continued their earlier academic disagreement.
“I still think your explanation lacked context,” Jade said.
“It didn’t,” Stella answered simply.
“It did.”
“It didn’t.”
Jade smiled.
Stella didn’t.
Shane watched them with fascination.
“May enemies-to-lovers vibes,” she whispered.
Marielle nearly choked.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just saying.”
Gabby sighed softly.
“You know them for less than an hour.”
“Exactly. Enough time.”
Before anyone could continue, the teacher clapped twice.
“Okay, class!”
The room quieted.
“Since first day pa lang, we’ll do an icebreaker activity. Random groups of three.”
A collective groan erupted from the class.
“Sir naman!”
“Pwede by friends?”
“Wala pa nga kaming friends!”
“Exactly why we’re doing this,” the teacher replied with a smile.
He picked up a stack of numbered papers.
“Same numbers, same group.”
One by one, students lined up to get their numbers.
Shane practically skipped toward the front.
“Exciting!”
“Nothing about this is exciting,” Gabby muttered.
Marielle smiled. “At least makikilala natin classmates natin.”
Gabby merely nodded.
Eventually, everyone settled back into their seats, comparing numbers.
“Seven!” Shane announced proudly. “Lucky number.”
Marielle checked hers.
“Three.”
“Aww.”
Gabby unfolded her paper.
Seven.
She closed her eyes.
No.
No.
Across the room, Shane was already scanning everyone.
“Seven? Sinong seven?”
And then their eyes met.
Shane’s entire face fell.
Gabby’s expression somehow became even flatter.
“No,” Shane whispered dramatically.
“No,” Gabby agreed.
Marielle looked between them. “You know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” they answered in perfect unison.
The classroom burst into laughter.
Even Cole glanced up.
Jade raised an eyebrow.
Stella actually looked mildly interested.
Shane pointed accusingly.
“Why do I keep getting stuck with you?”
Gabby deadpanned immediately.
“Trust me, I’m wondering the same thing.”
“Grabe siya,” Shane gasped, placing a hand over her chest. “Ang sakit.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Parang ayaw mo sakin.”
“I don’t know you enough to dislike you.”
Shane paused.
Then grinned.
“So may chance pa?”
Gabby stared.
Marielle laughed softly beside them.
From behind, Cole smirked faintly.
“Ang bilis mo naman,” she commented.
Shane turned around.
“Hi! Shane.”
“Cole.”
“Nice. Witness ka ha, inaaway niya ako.”
Cole glanced at Gabby, who looked one second away from leaving the room entirely.
“No,” Cole answered calmly. “I think you’re doing that to yourself.”
The class laughed again.
“Traitor ka agad!” Shane exclaimed.
“Met you thirty seconds ago.”
The teacher cleared his throat.
“Settle down. Groups of three.”
“Ah, may third pa pala,” Shane said.
“Number seven?”
A new voice spoke from nearby.
Everyone turned.
Standing beside them was Jade, paper in hand.
“Seven.”
Shane blinked.
“Wow,” she said. “Parang honor students group tayo.”
Jade smirked slightly.
“Speak for yourself.”
Gabby quietly looked down at her number again.
Shane.
Twice in one day.
And now Robles.
Three people she’d known for less than six hours.
She wasn’t sure whether to call it coincidence.
Or bad luck.
Unfortunately, judging by the smile already growing on Shane’s face, she had a feeling the universe wasn’t done with her yet.
The icebreaker activity ended with varying degrees of success.
Some groups worked surprisingly well. Others spent twenty minutes awkwardly staring at each other. Shane, somehow, had managed to carry ninety percent of the conversation in their group, with Jade contributing thoughtful answers and Gabby providing only what was necessary.
And yet, by the end of it, none of them hated each other.
Well.
Shane wasn’t sure about Gabby.
Gabby, meanwhile, was very sure she didn’t understand why the loud girl kept smiling at her every time she spoke.
“Ang saya mo naman ka-group,” Shane had complained earlier.
“You asked the question.”
“Yeah, pero one sentence lang sagot mo.”
“It answered the question.”
“Efficient.”
“Exactly.”
Jade had quietly hidden a smile behind her paper.
By lunchtime, the entire class poured into the cafeteria like a flood.
Tables were already occupied by friend groups that had somehow formed within hours. Students wandered around carrying trays, searching desperately for empty seats.
Shane balanced her tray with exaggerated care.
“Kung mawalan ako ng pagkain ngayon, uuwi na ako.”
“Drama mo teh,” Marielle said softly.
“Food is serious.”
Gabby walked slightly behind them, lunch box in hand. She had brought food from home, courtesy of Irene, who always insisted that cafeteria food couldn’t compare to home-cooked meals.
Ahead of them, Jade was already scanning the room like she was analyzing a battlefield.
“No seats,” she observed.
“May isa pa yata dun,” Aya said, pointing.
“Occupied na,” Mikaela corrected immediately.
“Actually—”
“Taken.”
“How do you know?”
“Bag.”
“Oh.”
Cole, who had somehow appeared beside them without anyone noticing, simply nodded toward a corner.
“Meron dun.”
Everyone followed her gaze.
It was one of the bigger tables near the windows. Not ideal, but empty enough.
Stella arrived at almost the same moment, carrying her tray.
“Taken?” she asked.
“No,” Jade answered.
And somehow without discussion, without planning, without anyone realizing it—eight people sat around the same table.
Cole.
Marielle.
Aya.
Mikaela.
Jade.
Stella.
Gabby.
Shane.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
Then Shane clapped her hands together.
“Okay! Introductions ulit!”
Everyone stared.
“Shane, we’ve been classmates for six hours,” Mikaela deadpanned.
“Exactly. Deep connections take effort.”
Cole smiled faintly.
“You’ve said your life story three times already.”
“And I can do it again.”
Marielle laughed softly.
Gabby quietly opened her lunch box.
She thought that would be enough to avoid further conversation.
She was wrong.
“Uy!”
Shane leaned over immediately.
“Baon?”
Gabby blinked.
“Yes.”
“Ang sosyal.”
“Adobo lang to.”
“Exactly. Everything made with love is sosyal.”
Aya smiled.
“That’s… surprisingly sweet.”
“Thank you.”
“Still dramatic,” Mikaela added.
Shane gasped.
“Inaapi niyo ako.”
“No,” Stella spoke calmly for the first time since sitting down. “You’re just loud.”
Everyone paused.
Then Jade laughed.
Actually laughed.
Not loudly, but enough.
“Finally, someone said it.”
Shane pointed accusingly.
“Kainis! Mga bully kayo.”
Even Gabby’s lips twitched slightly.
Very slightly.
And unfortunately, Shane noticed.
Her eyes widened.
“Hoy!”
Gabby immediately straightened.
“What?”
“Ngiti ngiti ka diyan.”
“Hindi ah.”
“Oo kaya!”
“Di nga.”
“You smiled.”
“Imagination mo yun.”
Marielle covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Cole simply smirked into her drink.
“I saw it too.”
Gabby looked horrified.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Bookstore Girl smiled.”
Gabby froze.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
She turned toward Shane.
“Don’t call me that.”
Shane grinned.
“Bakit? Ang cute kaya.”
“It’s not.”
“Bookstore Girl.”
“No.”
“Bookstore Girl.”
“Stop.”
“Bookstore Girl.”
“Shanelle.”
Everyone paused.
Shane blinked.
“…you know my full name?”
“You introduced yourself.”
“Oh.”
A beat.
“Still calling you Bookstore Girl.”
Gabby sighed.
The universe, unfortunately, had a strange sense of humor.
Because not even ten minutes later, it happened again.
Shane was in the middle of telling a story.
“So sabi nung pinsan ko—”
“—na hindi raw—”
“Shane.” Jade called.
“—ako magiging honor student—”
“SHANE.”
“What?”
As she turned toward her—her elbow hit her juice.
Again.
The cup tipped.
Everyone watched in slow motion.
“No.”
“Gagi gagi—”
“Oh my God.”
The juice spilled directly across the table.
And directly…onto Gabby’s notebook.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Gabby froze.
Shane froze.
The entire table froze.
A single drop rolled dramatically down the page.
Gabby slowly looked down.
Then at the notebook.
Then at Shane.
Then back at the notebook.
Her expression was unreadable.
Which somehow made it worse.
Shane’s eyes widened.
“OH MY GOD.”
She shot up from her seat.
“I’M SO SORRY.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
Even Stella.
Even Stella.
Jade nearly choked on her drink.
Marielle had tears in her eyes.
Cole looked amused for the first time all day.
Aya was trying to save the tissues.
Mikaela was laughing too hard to help.
Meanwhile, Shane looked absolutely devastated.
“Gabby, sorry talaga.”
Gabby stared at her ruined notes.
“My notes.”
“Sorry.”
“My notebook.”
“Sorry.”
“My handwriting.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My pages.”
“Don’t hate me please.”
The entire table laughed harder.
Gabby closed her eyes.
Took a breath.
Then another.
When she opened them, Shane looked genuinely miserable.
Embarrassed.
Ashamed.
And weirdly close to crying.
Which made Gabby pause.
Because people usually got defensive.
But Shane just looked guilty.
Completely and sincerely guilty.
“It’s okay,” Gabby finally said.
Shane blinked.
“Really?”
“No.”
Everyone laughed again.
“But…” Gabby sighed. “Accidents happen.”
Shane’s face brightened.
“Really?”
“You owe me.”
“I’ll buy you ten notebooks.”
“I don’t need ten.”
“I’ll buy twenty.”
“Shanelle.”
“Okay, fifteen.”
Gabby pinched the bridge of her nose.
Across the table, Jade whispered to Stella.
“Weird.”
Stella nodded.
“Very.”
Scene 17 — The Nickname
The rest of lunch passed easier.
Somehow.
Stories flowed naturally. Cole spoke more than anyone expected. Marielle had a surprisingly dry sense of humor. Aya and Mikaela were frighteningly efficient together. Jade and Stella continued arguing about random topics like intellectual warfare.
And Shane?
Shane had become obsessed.
With annoying Gabby.
“Bookstore Girl, pakiabot yung water.”
“No.”
“Bookstore Girl.”
“No.”
“Bookstore Girl.”
“No.”
“Book—”
“Stop.”
“Hindi bagay.”
“It doesn’t need to.”
“Ang haba.”
“You’re literally named after where we met.”
“Exactly. That’s weird.”
Shane rested her chin on her hand.
“Hmm.”
She stared at Gabby.
Gabby immediately frowned.
“What.”
“Thinking.”
“Don’t.”
“Hmm.”
Everyone watched.
Marielle smiled.
Cole looked entertained.
Even Jade and Stella had stopped arguing.
Then Shane snapped her fingers.
“I got it.”
“No.”
“Psych Girl.”
“No.”
“Miss Psychology.”
“No.”
“Professor.”
“No.”
“Ms. Analyze.”
“Absolutely not.”
Shane squinted.
Then suddenly smiled.
“Aha.”
Gabby immediately felt concerned.
“Bookworm.”
“No.”
“Bookworm.”
“No.”
“Bookworm.”
“No.”
“Bookworm.”
Gabby sighed.
The table erupted into laughter.
“Perfect,” Shane declared proudly.
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“It’s annoying.”
“Exactly.”
Gabby looked around desperately.
Nobody was helping her.
Not Marielle.
Not Cole.
Not anyone.
Even Stella was quietly smiling.
Traitors.
Shane grinned triumphantly.
“Okay, Bookworm.”
Gabby stared.
“You are unbelievable.”
“And you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”
Silence.
Everyone froze.
Shane froze.
Gabby froze.
Marielle choked.
Jade raised an eyebrow.
Cole smirked.
Stella looked mildly interested.
Ranzen covered his face.
Shane blinked.
“…not like that.”
Gabby stared.
“Good.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with—”
“Shanelle.”
“Okay, stopping.”
The table erupted into laughter again.
And though Gabby would never admit it, for the first time that day—she found herself laughing too.
Softly.
Quietly.
But enough for everyone to notice.
Especially Shane.
And she smiled.
Not because she had won.
But because somehow between spilled juice, annoying nicknames, and endless talking—Bookstore Girl had laughed.
By the time the final bell before dismissal rang, the energy inside the classroom had shifted entirely.
The awkwardness of the morning had disappeared somewhere between spilled juice, teasing, and endless conversations. The room no longer felt like a gathering of strangers. It wasn’t friendship—not yet—but the distance between everyone had become smaller.
As students packed their bags, a voice echoed from the hallway.
“Club Fair!”
Several students immediately stood up.
“Uy, debate club!”
“Science club!”
“May dance org daw!”
The classroom buzzed with excitement.
Shane practically jumped out of her seat.
“OMG! May dance club!”
Marielle laughed softly. “Excited ka?”
“Excited?” Shane turned dramatically. “Marielle, dancing is my life.”
“OA.”
“Fax only. No printer!”
Nearby, Cole finally closed the book she had been reading all afternoon.
“Debate club?” she muttered.
Mikaela looked over.
“You debate?”
Cole shrugged.
“People argue wrong.”
Aya blinked.
“That’s your reason?”
“It’s enough.”
Across the room, Jade had already opened the brochure for student council.
“Of course,” Stella said.
Jade looked up.
“What?”
“You look like the type.”
“Insulto ba yan, Sevilleja?”
“No.”
“A compliment?”
“Mas lalong no.”
Cole smirked.
“Interesting answer.”
Meanwhile, Gabby quietly slipped her notebook inside her bag. She wasn’t in a hurry.
Unlike everyone else.
The group naturally walked together toward the covered court where booths had been set up.
Music blasted from one side.
Students shouted from every booth.
Colorful banners hung everywhere.
Gabby immediately slowed down.
Too much noise.
Too many people.
Too much everything.
And somehow—Shane noticed.
“Guys, dance booth!” Shane exclaimed before running ahead.
Marielle followed.
“Wait!”
Cole headed toward debate.
Jade toward student council.
Stella toward science club.
Aya and Mikaela wandered together.
Within seconds, Gabby found herself standing alone.
She didn’t mind.
Or at least she thought she didn’t.
She watched everyone from a distance.
Shane laughing with upperclassmen.
Marielle signing forms.
Cole already arguing with a senior.
Jade confidently asking questions.
Stella quietly examining laboratory exhibits.
Aya organizing pamphlets that weren’t even hers.
Mikaela correcting grammar on a poster.
Gabby smiled faintly to herself.
Interesting people.
She could simply go home.
No one would notice.
No one would mind.
“Oy. Bookworm.”
Gabby jumped slightly.
Shane stood beside her.
Sweaty.
Smiling.
Hair slightly messy.
Still too loud.
“What?” Gabby asked.
“Nawala ka.”
“I was here.”
“You know what I mean.”
Gabby looked away.
“I’m just looking.”
Shane followed her gaze.
“At people?”
“Mm.”
“You do that a lot.”
“You talk a lot.”
Shane grinned.
“Fair.”
Silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
Then Shane nudged her shoulder lightly.
“Tara.”
Gabby frowned.
“What?”
“Let’s go.”
“Saan?”
“Everywhere.”
“Ayaw ko.”
“Di ko tinanong.”
Gabby stared.
“That’s not how invitations work.”
“Then—”
Shane straightened.
“Ahem.”
She dramatically bowed.
“Miss Bookworm, would you do me the honor of accompanying us around the club fair?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please?”
“No.”
“With adobo?”
Gabby’s eyebrow twitched.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
Marielle appeared behind them.
“Shane, stop kidnapping people.”
“Iniinvite ko lang siya.”
“Against her will.”
“Details.”
To Gabby’s surprise, Marielle smiled warmly.
“You can come with us if you want.”
“No pressure.”
No pressure.
The words settled somewhere inside Gabby.
No expectations.
No obligation.
No pressure.
And somehow that mattered.
“…Fine,” Gabby said quietly.
Shane’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“You’re loud.”
“Thank you.”
“Hindi yun compliment.”
“Still counts.”
The three of them joined the others.
Cole had somehow recruited two seniors into an argument.
Jade was already discussing projects with the student council president.
Stella had attracted the attention of the science club adviser.
Aya was helping arrange forms.
Mikaela was correcting schedules.
Ranzen was eating.
As usual.
Hours passed.
Slowly.
Naturally.
No one noticed.
Except Gabby.
She noticed everything.
She noticed how Cole’s eyes sharpened during debates.
How Jade became more animated when challenged.
How Stella listened more than she spoke.
How Aya instinctively helped.
How Mikaela never let mistakes slide.
How Marielle smiled gently at everyone.
And how Shane somehow managed to talk to every living person she encountered.
“Bookworm!”
Gabby sighed.
“Ano na naman?”
“Look.”
Shane pointed proudly at her dance club registration.
“I got in.”
“Congratulations.”
“That’s it?”
“Do you want confetti?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Shane laughed.
And Gabby, without realizing, laughed too.
Not much.
Not loudly.
But enough.
Enough that Shane stopped.
“…You laughed.”
Gabby froze.
“No.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“You smiled and laughed.”
“It was one sound.”
“It counts.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It absolutely counts.”
Marielle smiled quietly.
She didn’t say anything.
She simply watched.
Because somehow, Gabby, who spent the entire day observing others was finally participating.
Eventually, the sun began to set.
Students started heading home.
The eight of them found themselves walking together toward the school gates.
No one had planned it.
No one suggested it.
It simply happened.
Jade and Stella were arguing again.
“It’s basic logic.”
“No, it’s incomplete logic.”
“Those are different.”
“Exactly.”
Cole laughed.
Aya and Mikaela discussed assignments.
Marielle listened to Shane’s endless storytelling.
And Gabby—Gabby watched.
She watched all of them laughing.
Talking.
Teasing.
Living.
And for the first time since arriving at this school, she didn’t feel alone.
The realization caught her off guard.
Because loneliness wasn’t sadness.
Not always.
Sometimes, it was simply the absence of belonging.
And somehow, without realizing when—she had begun to belong.
Beside her, Shane was in the middle of another story.
“…and then Ranzen literally—”
She stopped.
Completely.
“Wait.”
Everyone turned.
“What?” Cole asked.
Shane stared.
At Gabby.
Gabby blinked.
“What?”
Shane smiled.
Small.
Soft.
Different.
“You smiled.”
Gabby frowned immediately.
“No.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“You really did.”
Marielle laughed.
“I saw it too.”
“Me three,” Cole added.
“Same,” Jade said.
Even Stella nodded.
Gabby looked horrified.
“OA.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
And in the middle of all that noise, Shane laughed the loudest.
Still loud.
Still chaotic.
Still impossible.
Gabby thought she was too loud.
Shane thought she was impossible to read.
Neither of them realized they had just met the person who would change their life.
And as the newly formed group disappeared beyond the school gates, none of them knew that one day, different professionals would emerge from them.
Nor did they know that years later—through heartbreak, distance, victories, grief, and second chances—every single one of them would somehow find their way back to each other.
But for now—they were just teenagers.
Walking home.
Laughing.
And unknowingly beginning the story that would shape the rest of their lives.