ROOM 7
Chapter Two: The First Casualty
---
The first week of Room 7 was a study in controlled chaos.
Jay had a system. She always had a system. Wake up at 5:00 AM. Shower from 5:07 to 5:15 (exactly eight minutes, water pressure permitting). Study from 5:15 to 7:00. Eat breakfast from 7:00 to 7:20. Leave for class at 7:30 sharp.
The system had never failed her.
The system had never met Kiefer Watson.
---
Day One: The Alarm Clock Incident
Jay's alarm went off at 5:00 AM.
She reached for her phone, silenced it, and sat up — only to find Kiefer already awake, sitting on his bed, holding a cup of coffee.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," he said.
Jay blinked. "What are you doing?"
"Drinking coffee. Watching you sleep. The usual."
"I will throw something at you."
"You have nothing in your hands."
She grabbed her pillow. He held up his hands in surrender, grinning.
"Relax, Mariano. I'm an early riser. Always have been."
"Since when?"
"Since always. You just never noticed because you were too busy ignoring me at every family function."
Jay wanted to argue, but he wasn't wrong. She had spent every Mariano-Watson event pretending he didn't exist. Which was difficult, because he had a habit of existing very loudly.
"Fine," she said. "But stay on your side of the room."
"This is my side."
"Then stay quieter."
"Impossible. I'm physically incapable of being quiet. It's a medical condition."
"You don't have a medical condition."
"I have charisma. That's basically the same thing."
Jay grabbed her shower caddy and walked away before she said something she regretted.
Behind her, she heard Yuri's sleepy voice: "Dude, it's five in the morning. Why are you already annoying her?"
"Because she makes it so easy."
"Go back to sleep."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
Yuri threw a shoe at him. Kiefer caught it without looking.
Jay closed the bathroom door and stared at her reflection.
You will not let him win, she told herself. You will not let him get to you.
Her reflection looked unconvinced.
---
Day Two: The Study Session
By Tuesday, the room had settled into something resembling a routine.
Mica and Calix made breakfast together every morning — eggs, rice, and whatever leftovers they could find. Freya documented everything for her photography project. David organized a snack rotation. Care color-coded the bathroom schedule. Cole pretended not to notice Care color-coding anything, but Jay caught him studying the schedule when he thought no one was looking.
It was almost peaceful.
Then Kiefer decided to study in the common area.
Jay had claimed the big table by the window. It had the best light, the most space, and the least amount of foot traffic. She spread out her textbooks, her highlighters, her sticky notes, and her laptop. Everything had its place.
Kiefer dropped his bag on the table directly across from her.
"No," she said.
"Good morning to you too."
"Find somewhere else."
"This is a shared space, Mariano."
"There are eleven other people who could sit here. Pick one."
"I'm picking you."
Jay's pen stopped moving. "What did you just say?"
Kiefer's grin widened. "I'm picking this spot. Which happens to be across from you. Which means I'm picking you by default. It's math."
"That's not math."
"It's my math."
He sat down, pulled out his laptop, and started typing. Jay stared at him for a full ten seconds before forcing herself to look back at her notes.
Ignore him, she thought. Focus. He's not worth it.
But he was humming. Softly. Some song she couldn't identify. And he kept tapping his pen against the table. And every time she looked up, he was already looking at her.
"What?" she snapped.
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I'm observing. There's a difference."
"There's literally no difference."
"Observing is scientific. Staring is creepy. I'm being scientific."
Jay pressed her palms against her eyes. "I can't do this."
"Do what?"
"Exist in the same space as you."
"And yet, here you are. Existing. Right across from me. Like a miracle."
"I hate you."
"I know." He said it softly. Almost gently. "You mention it a lot."
Something in his voice made her pause. She looked up. His eyes were steady on hers, and for a moment — just a moment — the teasing was gone.
Then Lyra bounced over and dropped into the seat next to Jay. "What are we studying?"
"The slow death of my patience," Jay said.
Lyra looked at Kiefer. Kiefer shrugged innocently.
"He started it," he said.
"You always start it," Jay shot back.
"I prefer to think of it as initiating engagement."
"That's the same thing!"
"Is it though?"
Lyra grabbed Jay's arm. "Okay, you two are giving me a headache. Jay, breathe. Kiefer, stop being cute."
"I'm not being cute."
"You're literally sitting there with bedhead and a sleepy face. It's biologically impossible for you not to be cute right now."
Kiefer's ears turned pink.
Jay noticed.
She filed that away for later.
---
Day Three: The Shower Incident
The bathroom schedule was supposed to prevent chaos.
Care had spent two hours on it. Color-coded. Time-slotted. Alphabetized by last name. It was a masterpiece of organization.
It lasted exactly forty-eight hours.
At 6:45 AM on Wednesday, Jay heard the shower running. She checked the schedule. The 6:45 slot belonged to her.
She knocked. "Someone's in my shower time."
No response.
She knocked harder. "Hello? This is my assigned slot."
The water turned off. A pause. Then Kiefer's voice, dripping with fake innocence: "Is that you, Mariano?"
"Who else would it be at 6:45 AM?"
"I don't know. A ghost? A burglar? An extremely early pizza delivery?"
"Get out of the shower."
"I'm not in the shower anymore. I'm out of the shower. There's a difference."
"Then get dressed and get out."
"Bold of you to assume I'm not dressed."
Jay stared at the door. "Are you dressed?"
"...No."
"KIEFER."
"I'M SORRY. I LOST TRACK OF TIME."
"You lost track of— it's a SHOWER. How do you lose track of time in a SHOWER?"
"I was thinking."
"About WHAT?"
There was a pause. Then, quietly: "You."
Jay's brain short-circuited.
From the other side of the door, Kiefer's laugh echoed — bright and loud and infuriating. "Kidding. Relax. I was thinking about breakfast."
"I hate you."
"You keep saying that."
"Because I keep meaning it."
She stormed back to her bed, where Lyra was watching with wide eyes.
"He said you," Lyra whispered.
"He was joking."
"He said you and then he laughed. That's not a joke. That's a deflection."
"You're reading too much into it."
"I'm reading exactly the right amount into it."
Jay buried her face in her hands. "Why is he like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like... him. Loud and annoying and always there."
Lyra tilted her head. "You know, most people would kill for someone who's always there."
"He's not there for me. He's there because we live in the same room."
"Uh-huh."
"We do!"
"I didn't say anything."
"Your face said everything."
"My face is innocent."
"Your face is a traitor."
From across the room, Kiefer emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed, hair still wet, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He caught Jay's eye and winked.
Jay threw her pencil at him.
He caught it.
"I'm keeping this," he said, tucking it behind his ear.
"That's my favorite pencil."
"Now it's my favorite pencil."
"You don't even write."
"I'll learn."
Jay grabbed another pencil and pointed it at him like a weapon. "One day, Watson. One day."
"I look forward to it, Mariano."
---
Day Four: The Parents Strike
Thursday afternoon. Jay was reviewing her business law notes when her phone buzzed.
Mom: Dinner tonight at the house. 7 PM. Don't be late.
Mom: Also, Kiefer is coming.
Jay's eye twitched.
Jay: Why is Kiefer coming to MY family dinner?
Mom: Because I invited him.
Jay: Why did you invite him?
Mom: Because he's a nice boy and I like him.
Jay: I don't like him.
Mom: I know, sweetheart. That's what makes it funny.
Jay stared at her phone. Then she looked across the room at Kiefer, who was playing cards with Yuri and Alex.
"Watson."
He looked up. "Mariano."
"My mother invited you to dinner."
"I know. I already said yes."
"You said yes without asking me?"
"I didn't know I needed your permission."
"You're coming to MY house. To MY family dinner. With MY parents."
"And your brothers. And your mom's cooking. And your dad's terrible jokes." He grinned. "Sounds like a great time."
"I will poison your food."
"No you won't. Your mom would be sad."
"My mom would help me."
"Your mom sent me the invitation."
Jay opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
Yuri snorted. "She's got you there."
"Shut up, Yuri."
"I'm just saying—"
"Shut. Up."
Kiefer stood up, stretched, and walked over to her. He leaned against her desk — her personal desk, the one she'd clearly marked as hers — and looked down at her.
"Look, Mariano. I know you hate me. I know you think I'm annoying and loud and too much. But your parents have been nothing but kind to me. Your mom sends me care packages. Your dad asks about my grades. Percy calls me 'future brother-in-law' and honestly? I kind of love it."
"Percy is an idiot."
"Percy is entertaining. There's a difference."
"That's what you always say."
"Because it's always true." He paused. "I'm coming to dinner. I'm going to be polite. I'm going to compliment your mom's cooking. I'm going to laugh at your dad's jokes. And you're going to sit there and pretend I don't exist, just like every other family function we've ever been to."
Jay's jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you better than you think."
"No you don't."
"I know you wake up at 5 AM every day. I know you take exactly eight-minute showers. I know you organize your highlighters by color even though no one else cares. I know you bite your lip when you're concentrating. I know you talk in your sleep."
Jay went very still. "I do not talk in my sleep."
"You do. You said 'Kiefer stop being annoying' last night. In your sleep."
"Because you're annoying in real life!"
"And in your dreams apparently."
"I was having a NIGHTMARE."
"About me?"
"YES. A NIGHTMARE. WHERE YOU WERE ANNOYING."
"So... a regular dream about me?"
Jay grabbed her notebook and threw it at him. He caught it — of course he caught it — and set it gently back on her desk.
"Seven o'clock, Mariano. Don't be late."
He walked away.
Jay stared after him, her heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with anger.
Lyra slid into the seat next to her. "So."
"So what?"
"You talk about him in your sleep."
"I was having a nightmare."
"About Kiefer Watson being annoying."
"Yes."
"That's not a nightmare, Jay. That's a Tuesday."
"Exactly. A nightmare."
Lyra patted her hand. "Sure, honey. Whatever you say."
---
The Dinner
The Mariano family home was a sprawling mansion in Forbes Park — all white walls and floor-to-ceiling windows and art that cost more than most people's cars. Jay had grown up here. She knew every corner, every secret, every hiding spot from a childhood spent avoiding her brothers.
Tonight, she wanted to hide.
Kiefer arrived at 6:55 PM, five minutes early, holding a bottle of wine and a box of pastries from her mom's favorite bakery.
"Those are for you," he said, handing her the pastries.
Jay blinked. "What?"
"Your mom's favorites. From that place in Makati. I went this morning."
"You went to Makati? For pastries?"
"For your mom. Because she invited me to dinner. And because she's been sending me care packages for three years, and I owe her."
Jay didn't know what to say. She stood there holding the pastries, staring at him like he'd grown a second head.
"You're not supposed to be thoughtful," she finally said.
"I'm full of surprises."
"I hate surprises."
"I know." He smiled — not his usual teasing grin, but something softer. "That's why I told you about the pastries."
Before Jay could respond, her mother appeared in the doorway.
"KIEFER!" Jeena rushed forward and pulled him into a hug. "You're here! And you brought my pastries!"
"Of course, Tita. I know what you like."
"Oh, you're such a good boy. Why can't my daughter be more like you?"
"MOM."
"I'm just saying." Jeena released Kiefer and took the pastries. "Jay, be nice to him. He brought gifts."
"He brought you gifts."
"And you brought... what did you bring?"
Jay looked down at her empty hands. "I live here."
"That's not a gift, darling. That's an obligation."
Kiefer laughed. Jay wanted to die.
Dinner was exactly as painful as she'd expected.
Her father, Jasper, asked Kiefer about his classes. Kiefer answered thoughtfully, respectfully, like he actually cared. Her mother asked about Serina and Keizer. Kiefer said they were well and sent their love. Percy asked when the wedding was. Aries kicked Percy under the table.
"The wedding," Percy repeated, rubbing his shin. "Of the century. Mariano-Watson. It'll be in all the papers."
"We are NOT getting married," Jay said through gritted teeth.
"Not yet," Kiefer said mildly.
"Not EVER."
"Your mom just asked me to carve the roast. I think she's already planning the reception."
Jeena, who was indeed carving the roast, smiled sweetly. "I'm just being hospitable."
"You're being a menace."
"Same thing, darling."
Across the table, Aries caught Jay's eye. His expression was unreadable — but there was something in it, something that looked almost like sympathy.
"You okay?" he mouthed.
She shook her head.
He nodded. Then he reached over and squeezed her hand under the table.
It was a small gesture. But it was enough.
After dinner, Kiefer helped with the dishes. Jay stood in the kitchen doorway, watching him dry plates while her mother washed. They were laughing about something — some story Kiefer was telling about Keiran and the stuffed shark.
"...and then he said 'Bruce is mine!' and ran away with him. I had to chase him through the whole house."
Jeena was crying with laughter. "He's just like you were at that age."
"I was worse."
"Impossible."
"I was definitely worse. Ask my mom."
"Oh, I will. We talk every day."
Kiefer paused. "You do?"
"We have a group chat. Without the husbands."
Kiefer's eyes widened. "Does my mom know about this?"
"Of course she knows. She's in it."
"And my dad?"
"What your father doesn't know won't hurt him."
Kiefer looked at Jay. She looked at him. For the first time all night, they shared something that wasn't annoyance.
Horror.
"Your moms have a group chat," Kiefer said slowly.
"Without the husbands," Jay added.
"About us?"
"Probably."
"We're doomed."
"Completely."
Jeena beamed. "I'm so glad you two are finally getting along."
"We're not—" they started in unison.
Then stopped. Looked at each other. Looked away.
Jeena's smile widened.
---
The Drive Back
Jay insisted on driving Kiefer back to the dorm. Not because she wanted to spend time with him. Because she wanted to make sure he actually left.
"I could have taken a Grab," he said, buckling his seatbelt.
"I don't trust you to actually go home."
"Where else would I go?"
"I don't know. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. As long as it's away from me."
"You wound me, Mariano."
"Good."
She pulled out of the driveway and into the night. The streets of Makati were busy even at this hour — lights and noise and people everywhere. Jay kept her eyes on the road.
"You know," Kiefer said after a while, "your family is really nice."
"They're tolerable."
"Your dad asked me about my future plans. Like he actually cared."
"He's polite."
"Your mom hugged me three times."
"She's affectionate."
"Percy gave me his number and said 'call me if you ever need anything.'"
"Percy is meddling."
"Aries shook my hand and said 'take care of her.'"
Jay's foot slipped off the gas. The car jerked.
"What?"
"He said 'take care of her.' When you were in the bathroom."
Jay's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Aries said that?"
"Word for word."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"It means something."
"It means Aries is being dramatic."
"Or it means your brother trusts me."
Jay was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Aries doesn't trust anyone."
"I know."
"So why would he—"
"Maybe because he sees something you don't."
Jay pulled into the dorm parking lot and killed the engine. She sat there, hands still on the wheel, staring straight ahead.
"Kiefer."
"Yeah?"
"Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Stop being... this. Nice. Thoughtful. Bringing my mom pastries and doing dishes and making my brothers like you."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You're existing. And somehow that's enough to make everyone fall in love with you."
Kiefer was quiet. Then, softly: "Everyone except you."
Jay turned to look at him.
The parking lot lights cast shadows across his face. He wasn't grinning. Wasn't teasing. He was just looking at her — really looking — like she was something worth seeing.
"You don't have to fall in love with me, Mariano," he said. "Just... stop pretending you don't see me."
"I see you," she said before she could stop herself.
"Then what am I?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
"I'm the guy who wakes up early to watch you study," he said. "The guy who steals your pencils so you'll talk to me. The guy who drives your mom crazy asking about your childhood. The guy who's been trying to get your attention for five years, and failing, and somehow still hoping."
"Five years?"
"Since the first family dinner. You wore a red dress. You spilled wine on my shirt. You apologized by calling me 'that Watson boy.' I've been yours ever since."
Jay's heart stopped.
No. No, that wasn't — he couldn't —
"You're lying," she whispered.
"I don't lie, Mariano."
"Everyone lies."
"I don't." He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed her cheek. "Not about this."
Jay forgot how to breathe.
Then Kiefer pulled back, opened the door, and stepped out of the car.
"Goodnight, Jay."
He walked toward the dorm, hands in his pockets, whistling that same song from Tuesday.
Jay sat in the car for a long time.
Her heart was still pounding.
She didn't know what to do with that.
---
The Aftermath
She found Lyra in the common area, surrounded by textbooks and empty coffee cups.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Lyra said.
"Worse."
"What's worse than a ghost?"
"Kiefer Watson being honest."
Lyra set down her highlighter. "Explain."
Jay sat down heavily. "He said he's been trying to get my attention for five years. Since the first family dinner. He said — he said he's been mine ever since."
Lyra's eyes went wide. "He said that?"
"Word for word."
"And what did you say?"
"Nothing. I couldn't breathe."
"JAY."
"I KNOW."
"This is huge! This is the thing! The thing we've all been waiting for!"
"What thing?"
"The thing where you both stop pretending and just admit that you're completely, hopelessly, stupidly in love with each other."
"We're not in love."
"Then why can't you breathe?"
Jay opened her mouth. Closed it.
"That's what I thought," Lyra said.
From across the room, Kiefer walked in. He was wearing pajama pants and an old t-shirt, his hair still damp from a shower. He caught Jay's eye and smiled — small, soft, private.
Then he walked to his bed, picked up Bruce the shark, and went to sleep.
Jay stared at the ceiling until 3 AM.
She didn't sleep.
She didn't stop thinking about the way his fingers felt on her cheek.
---
The Next Morning
At 5:00 AM, Jay's alarm went off.
She silenced it, sat up, and found Kiefer already awake. He was sitting on his bed, holding two cups of coffee.
"Good morning, Mariano."
"Good morning, Watson."
He held out one of the cups. "I made it how you like it. Black. No sugar."
"How do you know how I like my coffee?"
"I pay attention."
Jay took the cup. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them pulled away.
"You're still annoying," she said.
"I know."
"And I still hate you."
"I know."
"And I'm not — I'm not saying I feel anything. I'm just saying... thank you. For the coffee."
Kiefer's smile was slow and warm. "You're welcome, Jay."
She looked away first.
But she didn't stop smiling.
---
End of Chapter Two