It was a quiet Sunday.
No classes. No errands. No distractions. Just the Navarro siblings, lounging in the living room, with Stranger Things paused on Netflix and chicken nuggets waiting in the oven.
Bella was sprawled on the floor with her sketchpad. Gesly was lazily scrolling through his phone.
And Andi? She was standing in front of them.
Arms crossed. Eyebrows raised. Wearing her signature "I mean business" face—the one usually reserved for budget breakdowns and monthly expense reports.
"Okay, listen." Bella immediately looked up. Gesly rolled his eyes.
"Whenever she says 'okay, listen,' a soul is about to be crushed," he whispered to Bella. She giggled.
But this time, Andi was dead serious.
"I want us to talk about something important."
Gesly's brow furrowed. "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?"
Gesly groaned. Loudly. "Ate, come on—"
"Nope. Sit down. Shut up. Listen."
And they did. Because when Andi started talking, it was impossible not to listen. She had that tone—the kind that says I love you, so I'll scar you now to save you later.
"I know. You're not of legal age yet. But that doesn't mean you're not exposed to this. Social media exists. Curiosity exists. Hormones exist. Let's not be stupid."
Bella tilted her head. "What's hormones?"
"Things in your body that make you do dumb things—like catch feelings, get horny, and sometimes believe your crush is your soulmate."
"Ewww!" Bella shouted. Gesly looked like he wanted to teleport to the moon.
Andi didn't flinch. She went on—calm and informative, like a mom with a medical degree (even if she had none).
"Let me be clear: I understand if one day, you get curious. If you want to explore the world of pleasure—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 out of boredom. Not from peer pressure. Not because 'everyone else is doing it.' And when you do it— use protection. Always."
She paced like a TED Talk speaker with emotional damage.
"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 are STDs?"
"Things you get when you're not careful. And they won't just break your heart—they'll break your immune system."
Gesly's face turned red with embarrassment. "Ate, why are you saying all this now?!"
"Because I don't want you ending up like kids who were left to figure this stuff out on their own. The ones who were never warned. The ones who got into relationships, got played, got abandoned, got pregnant. And I swear—if either of you ends up pregnant or gets someone pregnant before the right time…" She locked eyes with them. Serious. Cold. "I will disown you."
Bella gasped. Gesly stared.
"Ate, come on—"
"I'm serious. I won't feed you. I won't defend you. I won't take your side. If you do something reckless, you solve it yourself. That's how it works."
Silence.
Only the aircon and the oven beeping could be heard.
Then Bella whispered, "So… no more having crushes?"
Andi sighed, finally softening. She sat between them.
"It's okay to have crushes, Bella. What's not okay is being stupid about it."
She pulled them in for a side hug.
"I know this topic is weird. But I'm doing this because I want you to know. Not to learn the hard way. Not from the wrong people."
"Like TikTok?" Gesly said.
"Exactly," Andi replied, with 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 all your cards" kind. But the calculated, style-savvy, "if it looks good, it comes home with us" 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, studying, and silent sacrifices.
But to Andi? It was war.
A war between her brain that said: "Save. You have responsibilities."
And her fashionista soul that whispered: "But the way that jacket fits Gesly? Come on."
"Oh~ You look like a princess. Just needs the shoes," she declared, pointing at Bella, who had just stepped out of the fitting room in a yellow sundress with puffed sleeves and lace details. The little girl twirled like a Disney princess.
"Ate, isn't this expensive?" Bella asked, holding the tag that had a rather intense number.
"Bella," Andi replied, dead serious. "If it looks good on you, it's not expensive. That's what you call an investment. You can't live in a world of insecure people shopping from the Bitter Department."
Gesly snorted from the bench, already holding two paper bags—one with a new button-down shirt, the other with white sneakers that, according to Andi, were "for your moving up day—cool but wholesome."
"Next time, you carry the cart. I'm not your mule," he complained.
"You're just too fun to dress up," Andi replied, holding three hangers—shirt, jacket, knitted vest. "You're like a walking Pinterest board. Would be a waste not to maximize your potential."
They walked from store to store. She touched fabrics. Checked seams. Eyed the sale racks like a hawk in heels. Sometimes she bought. Sometimes she didn't. But when she saw something that suited one of them?
No words. Just swipe.
"No matter the cost, we're taking that," she whispered to herself as she watched Gesly try on a chocolate brown bomber jacket.
"You look like you have a trust fund—but with empathy. I love it."
"Ate, we can't hang any more bags on my arm—I've got four already," Gesly whined again.
"Exercise. You know girls like guys with biceps and abs."
Bella, meanwhile, quietly ate soft-serve ice cream bought by Andi at the food court.
"She's in her rich tita arc again," Bella whispered.
But as they looped around the mall, one thing was inevitable: foot pain.
Andi refused to wear flats. She would never allow it. Flats were for lazy days and defeated souls. Even in a casual outfit, she wore 3-inch nude heels—through the mall, through the grocery, all the way to the wine section.
But by 5PM, on their fifth boutique, she slowly collapsed onto a bench, sighing deeply.
"Hold up… my heels are stabbing me."
"Then buy Crocs," Gesly said, munching on fries.
"You think I'd trade my dignity for rubber slippers? Say that again and you're grounded."
"I thought it was 'practicality over everything?'" Bella chimed in.
Andi looked at them both and said, "There's nothing in my lectures that allows being 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 bought because she simply couldn't take it anymore.
"My soles have trauma. I think they're about to resign."
Andi Navarro—practical, principled, and fiercely protective—had one fatal flaw: fashion.
But if her siblings looked good, walked confidently, and felt proud of who they were becoming… She'd limp in heels and overspend for it.
Every damn time.