Oh God, please don't let this happen to me. Why is he back?' Nóma thought, frightened.

There he stood in his glory, with a bunch of students surrounding him and asking him a lot of questions. Some who knew him in school asked him how life was abroad and told him how much they missed him, while others who didn't asked him basic questions like "how are you?" "How was America?" "when did you leave primary school?" He answered all of them with evident joy on his face.

Others who didn't surround him wondered what the big deal about him was. As for Nóma, well, you could say she experienced four of the five stages of grief, the last stage being acceptance, which she wasn't ready to succumb to.

"How far, guy? It's been a while. You just went to the U.S to become a fine guy," one of their classmates said, and the rest burst into laughter. Of course, Nóma wouldn't laugh; she was still in the depression stage.

"Everybody should hide their babes; he is going to take them away from you," another person joked, and they continued laughing. It was a reality that he had grown up to be a very attractive young man, but that was the least of Nóma's worries. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

All her plans.

Crumbled.

Battered.

Murdered.

And she was NOT okay. She wished he would just disappear. 'People that go abroad don't usually return, why would he?' she thought deeply and extensively.

She ultimately decided that he was doing this to ridicule her. How delusional was she? In reality Folarin had his own past which would rather not dwell on.

The rest of the day went as a blur. She spent most of her time loathing the fact of his arrival. 'My life,' she thought.

The school day came to its closure. What would have been a great day in Nóma's life soon turned into a day she wished didn't come to pass. It was like a nightmare for her, a never-ending one to be exact because she was certain that he would be here again tomorrow, next tomorrow, and the day after.

She had left her class earlier than she would because she found the atmosphere too suffocating, and she suddenly felt nauseous then decided to leave. She knew her mom won't come early because she herself had given that order to her mom, and her mom respected and followed it religiously, the order that is an hour extra after school so she could read her notes.

She decided to sit in the bleachers beside their school field. The frequently loud and noisy area was now quiet—just right for her to study. She picked her government textbook and decided to look at its contents, but her mind just couldn't seem to focus. All that ran through her mind was that boy.

Folarin Bakare.

The bane of her existence.

Her perfect dream of a senior school life was now in shambles due to the return of her ex-classmate. 'Well, that is it for today; it seems I can't focus on any words in this book,' she thought to herself, then closed the textbook.

She looked at the watch on her left wrist and studied it so she could tell the time. It was just 3:15. 'Shoot,' she thought. 3:15 meaning she had 45 minutes left.

She decided to jot some things down for her novel on the story app. She took out a jotter that had "Funke weds Seyi" on it. The jotter was a souvenir that they shared at the wedding she attended with her mom during the holidays. She started scribbling away.

The book that she was scribbling on behalf of was her E-book. One that she had started during the holidays because she just had the sudden urge to express her art. The book was named "Black Clover," and it was about a man who had lost all hope in the world and had to complete a quest to find true happiness, and he is ultimately convinced that the black clover is his true happiness.

Sounds like a solid plot, doesn't it? But little Miss Nóma was not fully aware that she was mirroring herself in a virtual book, but in a gender-bend version.

'This looks great; I am also going to introduce this rabbit that is so going to annoy the hell out of him,' she thought.

"Him," referring to her protagonist. Her book had received a lot of attention lately, and she had just felt compelled to write more, and even add a little twist in the tale. The algorithm was in her favour. Nóma might not be the most likable person, but what stuck out in her was her love for writing. It made her somewhat charming and bearable.

Suddenly, there was noise heading towards the field area, deep and gruff. 'Oh right, the seniors have practice today,' she thought, and she started to pack her belongings, then she was set to leave. The group of boys that had just arrived at the field were the school's football team; they mostly consisted of SS3 boys, but there were other junior classes amongst them too.

"Who is with the ball?" a voice boomed amongst them.

"I'm with it." Another voice replied, which happened to belong to Folarin.

'Oh God. Of course, he is here,' she thought to herself, then muttered some incoherent words to herself and left the scene, hoping he would not see her. In reality, he couldn't even recognize her anymore because he never cared.

When one takes a look at Nóma's situation, it is quite pitiful. A girl who is in a competition with someone who remains oblivious to the rivalry. How sad.

When she left the area, she scanned her watch. It was 4:04. 'My mom could be around now.' She maneuvered her way to the car park, and she saw her mom leaning against the car.

"Hey sweetheart, how was your day?" Her mom asked while kissing her on the forehead. She has never spoken to her mom about this rival of hers and how she felt about him. She decided it wasn't needed and felt her mom wouldn't do anything about it anyways, but just term it as child's play. Her mother did not know about her obsession—defeating the almighty Folarin.

"It was great, Mom," She lied, obviously. But her mom would not know that because she hid the fact that she wasn't okay perfectly, and besides, she loved schooling more than anything else. It was a smooth car ride.

Her mom filled her in on everything that went down at her workplace that day. Her mom owns a beauty salon where they deal with everything from braids to pedicures. She is telling her daughter how a woman brought her hair dye to the salon because she claimed the salon's were too expensive.

"Oh my God, she thought she bought a black hair dye!" Nóma exclaimed.

"Yes, but it turns out it was pink!" Her mom shouted and then laughed.

"Oh dear!" Nóma shouted back.

"And not just any pink; it's hot pink, guess what," Her mom asked.

"What?" A curious Nóma asked.

"It glows in the dark!" Her mom exclaimed.

"Noooo! At least she is going to light up the party," Nóma laughed yet again.

"You are not nice, and can you believe she tried to put the blame on my workers," Her mom added.

"Of course she would, don't they all?" She rolled her eyes.

"I made it known to her that it was her own bottle of dye that caused her misfortune; you should have seen everyone in the salon today, they were all laughing," Her mom said.

"Did she pay?"

"Of course she did," her mom replied.

There was nothing much to see but a mother and a daughter that share a strong bond with each other, even if they are hiding things from themselves. 

Who really knows everything about us?

The car ride came to an end. Nóma dashed in, took a shower, ate some food, and went up to her room.

She picked up her phone from where she had kept it this morning. Then suddenly her phone started ringing.

"Dad"

Her father was calling.

She was on very good terms with her dad; some might even term her as a typical daddy's girl. She loved her dad extensively.

She picked the call.

"Hello daddy,"

"How is my favourite daughter?"

"You know I am your only daughter, right? I am even your only child,"

"It doesn't matter; you are still my favourite," this made her crack a smile.

"So how are you?"

"I am fine, and how are you?"

"I am doing well,"

"So how was school today?"

"It was great, dad,"

"That's good, I know you will make me proud again,"

"Unfailingly,"

"I just wanted to check on you," Nóma was all too familiar with this tone of his, especially this statement; it meant he was about to end the call.

"Won't you ask of Mum?" she inquired with an intent of teasing him.

"Ah.... Well... Send my greetings..." he said awkwardly then cut the call. She started to laugh at his reaction.

Her mum and dad divorced a few years ago, and they are not on talking terms. Nóma just likes teasing them about it.

She made her way to her mum's room.

"Mummy, daddy called," She informed her sweet mother.

"Why do you keep informing me about this?" Her mom asked slightly annoyed.

"He said I should send my greetings," she smiled and her mum shook her head.

"You should really stop troubling that man," Her mom warned.

"No, I won't," she replied.

"Good night Mum," she added, and blew a kiss at her then dashed to her room.

She went and lied on the bed and opened her phone, then she saw a notification on her screen. It was from her beloved app Logophilia. There were many notifications from that app, but a particular one caught her eye.

*3 new messages from @WordsAreWritten*

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Should I add a glossary?