Chapter One

"Erin, come on! Make it fast, you're wasting our time."

My sister’s voice echoed from downstairs, sharp and dramatic — as always.

"Yes, coming!" I shouted back, hastily pulling on my sweater with one arm while reaching for my small purse with the other.

Why does she always have to act like we’re catching a flight to Mars?

"God, mahuhuli tayo sa flight natin dahil sa ’yo!"

Here we go again — her fourth time shouting the same thing, probably with even more volume now. Honestly, I don’t know if she wants me to move faster or just ruin my eardrums.

"Iiwan na talaga kita, Zephyrine! Ang bagal mo talaga kumilos!"

At this point, she was practically vibrating with frustration downstairs. So finally, with a dramatic sigh, I descended like the burdened little sister I was born to be.

She was already pacing near the front door, checking her watch like she was waiting for a job interview — not a domestic flight.

We were en route to the airport, and yet Ate Zaf hadn’t calmed down. Not even close.

She just kept ranting and ranting, her voice filling every corner of the car. Sabi niya, kung mahuhuli raw kami, iiwan niya talaga ako sa Manila. Okay, chill lang…

"Ate, pwede bang manahimik ka muna? You’re ruining our day. Umagang-umaga, sinisira mo na agad ang mood ko. Chill ka lang, okay?"

I gave her a pointed look, half-serious, half-sarcastic.

"Chill? Look at the time, it’s almost ten! Alas onse ang flight natin!"

She snapped and tossed her travel pillow at me like it was a weapon of justice.

"Aray! Baka masira ’yung makeup ko, Ate!"

I yelped and immediately pulled out my compact mirror. My brows were still intact, thank God.

"Mapanakit ka talaga kahit kailan."

She rolled her eyes like I was the unreasonable one.

"You’re just eighteen yet you’re obsessed with makeups."

"I’m already eighteen, kaya hindi na ako bata. I’m free to do whatever I want — kahit lagyan ko pa ng paint ang mukha ko."

I raised an eyebrow dramatically, like I was auditioning for a makeup ad.

"Try mo nga."

She smirked, challenging me.

"Okay. Magugulat ka na lang isang araw may paint na ang mukha ko."

I stuck my tongue out. The banter was endless between us.

"You’re such a rebel."

She muttered and barked at Manong Rico to drive faster. As if the poor man could fly the car. Ano ’to, Fast & Furious: Domestic Flight Edition? Thirty minutes pa lang naman ang natitira and she was already acting like we were eternally doomed.

To her eternal peace of mind, we finally arrived at the airport. Check-in: done. Luggage: dropped. Boarding: now queuing. Unfortunately, the line moved at glacial speed — under the mercy of Cebu Pacific and the napakainit na araw.

I was already frowning when Ate leaned toward me and whispered — though honestly, she could never really whisper.

"Stop frowning."

Eh ang init kaya?! I wiped a bead of sweat from my temple.

"Bakit kasi kailangan pa nating pumila? You know how I hate mabilad sa araw."

"Bata pa lang tayo, nagttravel na tayo, Erin. Hindi ka pa ba nasanay? Magtiis ka. Hindi naman nakakaitim ang masikatan ng araw ng ilang minuto. Maarte ka lang talaga."

Here we go again — her endless monologue about how I should be less dramatic, while being the most dramatic person I know.

So I stopped talking. Not worth the argument.

This is how it always is with us: me complaining, her snapping, then us throwing sarcastic remarks until we both shut up. Bonding, but make it dysfunctional. We didn’t have the word "decency" in our sibling dictionary.

I nearly jumped in joy when my aching feet finally stepped into the airplane. The crowd earlier? Literal survival of the fittest. Pawis na pawis ako.

Oddly enough, I always get sleepy on planes. It’s like the sound of the engine lulls me into a coma, even before takeoff. Maybe it’s my body's defense mechanism.

"Erin, gising na. Nandito na tayo."

Ate Zaf gently shook my shoulder.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

My eyes fluttered open. Wait, what? Already?

I turned to the window and blinked at the unfamiliar skyline. Iba na ang environment. We’re in Cebu.

Grabe, ang bilis naman. Well, I was knocked out the entire flight.

My neck ached slightly. I rotated it slowly as we exited the plane, stretching as we walked out into the warm Cebu air.

It honestly felt good to be back.

"Can you please let go of my hand, Ate? Para akong bata nito," I whispered, glancing around. People might get the wrong idea — like I couldn’t survive without her.

But Ate Zaf just grinned and held my hand tighter.

"I find it sweet, tho."

Ugh. I frowned deeper. She just loved teasing me, and of course, she was enjoying every second of it.

The drive from the airport was short but scenic. Cebu had that charming blend of city buzz and provincial calm. The moment we left the terminal, the air already smelled different — fresher, with just a faint trace of sea salt and late afternoon sun.

A van was already waiting for us at the pickup bay, exactly as Nana had promised over the phone a few nights ago. It wasn't a fancy vehicle, but it was clean, air-conditioned, and most importantly — came with a driver who greeted us with a placard that read "Zafi and Erin." Sosyal pa rin kahit papaano.

I slid into the passenger seat, pushing my sunglasses over my head. Ate sat beside me, humming quietly as we pulled into the streets of Mactan.

The sky was shifting into gold as we passed rows of sari-sari stores, fruit stands, and sleepy subdivisions. For some reason, even the chaos here looked softer. Less aggressive than Manila. I caught myself smiling at the quiet charm of it all.

“Na-mi-miss ko ’to,” I whispered.

Ate turned to me. “Ako rin.”

We shared a look. The kind that said we both needed this escape more than we admitted.

When the van finally slowed down in front of a familiar green gate, I felt a flutter in my chest. Nana’s house hadn’t changed — still that quaint bungalow with pastel-painted walls and flowering vines curling around the fence like they owned the place.

"Excited na ako pumasok," I said under my breath as the driver helped us unload our luggage.

Ate rang the doorbell. The chime echoed faintly.

"I just hope Nana didn’t forget we’re arriving today,” she muttered.

I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you call her the night before?”

“I did, pero ’di ba, alam mo naman si Nana... busy queen sa restaurant. Baka hindi na-check ang calendar. Wala pang nagsundo sa’tin, oh.”

“She wouldn’t forget,” I said with confidence. “And besides, Jam’s with her. I bet Jam even set an alarm.”

Ate smirked. “True. She probably decorated the whole house with balloons.”

The gate creaked open.

Standing there was Nana, same warm eyes, now with a few more wrinkles, but still the same comforting presence that once tucked us in on school nights and made our baon every morning.

"Nana!" we squealed in unison.

She opened her arms wide, and we ran into them like little kids again.

“Ay, mga anak ko! Nandito na kayo!” Nana beamed, pulling us into a hug so tight, I could smell her signature lavender cologne.

“We thought you forgot about us!” I teased, pouting like a brat.

“Pwede ba namang makalimutan ang mga prinsesa ko? Si Jam nga, kanina pa nakaabang! Nag-makeup pa ’yan parang may debut.”

We all laughed.

Ate gave her a tight squeeze. “How have you been, Nana?”

“Okay lang ako. Mas gumaan pa nga nung sinabi ni Jam na uuwi kayo.”

“Eh kayo po, mas gumanda pa yata,” I said, winking.

“Mas maganda pa rin si Nana sa lahat!” Ate added, laughing.

“Kayong dalawa talaga, puro bola,” Nana scolded, but the smile on her face gave her away.

She ushered us inside. The moment I stepped through the door, I felt it — that feeling of home you can’t fake. The hallway smelled like freshly baked bread, fabric softener, and a hint of calamansi cleaner — oddly nostalgic and comforting.

"May surprise si Jam sa inyo," Nana said, almost in a whisper.

I gasped. “Food po ba ’yon? Gutom na gutom na ako!”

As if on cue, Jam burst out from the kitchen, tossing actual confetti into the air like she was announcing our arrival on national TV.

“Welcome home, girls!”

We screamed in surprise — and delight. Jam hadn’t changed one bit.

She wore a pink apron and held a homemade cake that had our names written in whipped cream. Classic Jam. Always extra, always the life of every reunion.

I dropped my bag and hugged her tight. “Jam, I missed you so much!”

“Weh? Miss mo nga ako, wala ka namang pasalubong,” she joked, poking my side.

“Nakakahiya ka, bigay ko na lang kaya ’yung bag ko!”

We giggled like the kids we used to be.

Dinner was already spread across the dining table — kare-kare, baked salmon, lumpia, and Nana’s special mango float chilling in the fridge. Every dish tasted like childhood, every bite soaked in memory. We sat together like no time had passed, with Nana refilling our glasses and Jam throwing jokes left and right.

For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist.

Until—

“Uy, tumutunog ’yung phone mo,” Ate said, nudging me with her elbow. “Baka si bf mo na ’yan. Sagutin mo na!”

I rolled my eyes, snatching the phone from the table. “I don't have a boyfriend!”

I swiped the screen and answered with a lazy, “Hello?”

“Erin!”

Napaatras ako. The voice was loud enough to startle the entire house. I yanked the phone away from my ear. “Grabe ka, Jake! Nagpatugtog ka ba ng megaphone sa speaker mo?”

"Sorry!"

“Bakla ka ba?!” I hissed into the mic, laughing under my breath.

“Of course not!” he replied indignantly. So defensive. So Jake.

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Aba, parang may tinatago, ah.”

“I just wanted to talk,” he said softly this time.

“Namiss mo ako agad, ’no?”

“Yes,” he admitted, a little too quickly. “My day isn’t complete without you.”

And just like that... my heart did a stupid little flip.

Wait. What?