Being the only girl in Section E was already its own form of punishment. HVIS—the Higher Value International School—was supposed to be a fresh start after the chaos of your last school. Instead, you'd been dropped into a cage of lions: troublemakers with top grades and sharper tongues. And worst of all? Mark Kiefer Watson.

He was Section E’s self-declared king—charismatic, cocky, and always one step ahead. You knew from the moment you stepped into the classroom and met his eyes that he hated your guts. And Kiefer Watson didn’t do anything without a reason.

Their project together felt like a cruel joke from the universe.

“Try to keep up, yeah? I don’t carry dead weight,” he said with that smug curl of his lips.

“Funny,” you shot back, not missing a beat. “I was just about to say the same thing.”

He leaned in, just a little too close, his presence like a spark daring you to ignite. There was something infuriatingly confident in the way he looked at you, like he knew exactly which buttons to press—and enjoyed doing it.

“You talk big,” he murmured, voice low. “But let’s be real—you’d be lost without me.”

“Sa iyong mga pangarap, Kiefer.”

You turned away, flipping through your notes with exaggerated focus. But you could feel him watching you. Not the usual mocking glances, not the amusement laced in cruelty he’d shown you before. This look lingered. Curious. Calculated.

“You’re interesting,” he said.

You didn’t even flinch. "At nakakairita ka. Hulaan na tayo ay pantay.”

He laughed then—deep, rich, and far too genuine for your liking. That sound had no business making your stomach twist the way it did. You refused to look at him, knowing the smirk he was wearing would only make it worse.

“You’re fun when you’re mad,” he said, voice laced with amusement. “I think I’ll keep pushing your buttons.”

What you didn’t know was that this had all started as a plan. Kiefer had every intention of driving you out—flirt, confuse, and then crush. He was going to break your pride the same way you’d threatened his dominance in Section E. But somewhere between the jabs and the firecracker glances, the game had begun to slip from his hands.

Because Kiefer Watson didn’t expect you to fight back with more than just words. And he definitely didn’t expect to care.