Not every rich kid has to go to a private school.
That was one of my most controversial opinions. To me, private schools were too curated. Too uniform. Too pretend. There are no real stories there—no frantic whispering in the hallways or the adrenaline of sprinting past the guard because you're late for the flag ceremony.
I wanted Gesly and Bella to experience a real life.
I wanted them in the kind of high school where you sneakily share answers at the back of the room. Where you race to the canteen to beat the lunch rush. I wanted them to know what it's like to eat street foods with their friends or maybe... experience the school fights that never happens in private schools?
So, even though I could afford the most exclusive academy in the country, I enrolled them in the local public high school.
"So you'll actually have stories to tell when you grow up," I said, adjusting Bella's ID lace.
Gesly frowned at his reflection in the mirror, fixing his hair. "But Ate, aren't public schools... messy?"
I smiled. "Exactly. That's the fun part. It's called character development."
I didn't just handle the tuition, I curated their entire survival kit. I bought notebooks with plain covers and labels. I packed five extra pens each because I knew they'd "disappear" within a week. Their uniforms were tailored to fit perfectly, not loose but not like a pageant outfit either. PE shirts, jogging pants, black leather shoes, and extra socks.
Of course, they each got a new Samsung. Their allowance was 150 pesos a day. It was enough for a decent lunch, a snack, and their fare. Not too much, but just right.
But on the day of Gesly's junior high graduation, I had a surprise waiting.
After the ceremony, while Gesly was still sweating in his white uniform and clutching his diploma folder, I led him out to the parking lot.
"What's going on, Ate?" He asked, looking confused.
"I have something for you," I replied.
I stopped in front of a tarp-covered shape and pulled the fabric away.
There it was. A Honda. It was ordinary, with no flashy decals or custom chrome. It was just clean, shiny, and well-maintained. The perfect machine for a student who just needed to get from point A to point B.
"It's not fancy," I told him, "but it's safe and fuel-efficient. And more importantly, it isn't a target for carnappers."
Gesly stood there holding his helmet, speechless. He looked like he didn't know whether to cry or cheer. "This is... really mine?"
I smiled and tucked a stray hair behind his ear. "Yes. No more hitching tricycle rides. You're the one taking Bella to school now. Just so you know, it has GPS and a kill switch linked directly to my phone. Don't even think about skipping class. I'll know the second you veer off-course."
Bella started crying beside us. "Ate, you're so kind..."
I pulled them both into a tight hug. "You two take care of each other. That's all I ask."
That was the lesson I needed them to learn. Whether you're rich or poor, what matters is knowing your place. The price tag on your things doesn't define your success. True wealth is knowing how not to abuse the power you have.
In a world full of kids flaunting everything they own, I was raising two who understood the weight of simplicity.
Later that night, I sat on the veranda watching Gesly test the brakes inside the gate while Bella sat nearby, busy putting stickers on her new notebooks. I sipped a cup of instant coffee—no artisan beans, no imported froth, just a simple three-in-one.
My laptop sat open on the table. A new email glowed on the screen.
[ Subject: Dela Vuega Holdings: Board Invitation – Seat for Andrea Navarro ]
I smiled to myself. Soon. But not yet.
Right now, I needed to make sure Gesly knew how to use those brakes. I needed to see if Bella could actually stay within her budget.
There's a time for the crown. But for now, I'm perfectly content being the strict, sharp-tongued big sister.
---
3RD POV
In Room 11-B, Gesly Navarro was known as "the chill but quiet one." He wasn't top of the class. Not a troublemaker either. But he had that calm, unreadable aura, like you couldn't tell if something was bothering him or if he was just hungry.
"Bro, you got a new phone, huh?" Mark asked, glancing at the Samsung A-series on Gesly's desk.
"My sister gave it to me," Gesly said, casually slipping the phone into his pocket.
"Was that her who picked you up last month? The one in the white shirt and long skirt?" Franco cut in, grinning mischievously.
Gesly paused. "Yeah, why?"
"Bro. That's your sister?! She's hot, man." His friends burst into laughter.
That wasn't new for Gesly. Ever since he and Bella started in public school, some of their classmates noticed Andi. But not because of glamor or luxury, because of how she carried herself.
At the first PTA meeting, Andi wore a thrifted olive-green long skirt, a plain tucked-in white shirt, and simple sandals. Not expensive but clean and elegant. She carried a brown sling bag that Gesly knew she bought from Shopee. Light blush, a hint of gloss, and a ponytail with loose strands framing her face. Effortless, but striking.
When she entered the classroom, every dad and student turned their heads. When she smiled, he even heard whispers:
"Damn, that's his sister?"
"Bro, add her on FB."
"What's her social media?"
He didn't react. Because even at home, she was the same.
When they got home, while he was changing, he heard Bella giggling in the kitchen while Andi cooked hotdogs and fried rice.
"Kuya, someone asked if Ate is single," Bella teased, holding her Hello Kitty tumbler.
"Really?" Andi asked, amused. "And what did you say, Gesly?"
He walked out of his room, towel on his shoulder.
"Nothing. I said you're grumpy and ugly."
"How rude!" Andi laughed, playfully hitting him on the arm with a ladle.
But even through the jokes, everyone could feel Andi's quiet influence. She wasn't loud. Not flashy. But she had class. Confidence. Strength.
And that's why Gesly was proud.
At school, classmates were curious. Not because he had a motorbike or a new phone, but because of small things: his uniform was always clean. He always had food, but not the fancy kind. He never bragged, but you knew he wasn't struggling. And when people asked what his sister did for a living, he just said, "Nothing much. I don't really know."
What he knew was that his sister managed their money, their home, their future. She made the grocery list, the investment plans, Bella's tutor schedules. She even fixed the Wi-Fi last week like a pro.
But outside the house?
She was just his sister. A quiet, simply elegant woman. And for Gesly, that was her real power.
She didn't need expensive brands. She didn't need to show off.
Because even in a simple long skirt, everyone still looked her way.
One time during PE, Franco came up to him. "Bro, seriously, my dad has a crush on your sister."
"Ew," Gesly replied. "That's bad for his cholesterol. Tell your mom."
They laughed.
At home, when they all ate dinner together—sometimes pizza, sometimes just soup—Gesly would glance at Andi while she took a bite of rice.
He never said it out loud, but…
Ate Andi is his hero.