Hi, my people!🥹❤️

I didn't update for three weeks because I wanted to double update. 😩 I have terrible network issues and you see the thing is, I am so extremely busy and my entire life is structured into schedules. So, imagine my schedule for writing TMBT is 1pm to 2pm every day, and I come up to write and I spend the entire one hour trying to get Wattpad to open and load. From 3pm to 5pm, I have another task and that is to study, so unfortunately, that means I can't write again for that day. Because every part of my day is literally stocked and booked. I am trying. It's not easy. And plus, I am a Law extern, and I work in the Chambers from 8am to 5pm, I am literally very exhausted when I come back on week days and the last thing I look forward to is being stressed out by Network when I try to write. So once it starts, I don't even bother, I just go to my room, cover my blanket and sleep. And this has been the usual lately. So, it's almost impossible to update. This chapter has been ready since last week Sunday. I withheld the update because I planned to double update. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a single word down the whole of the week. So, yeah, it's one update.

Time is usually not in my favour, but I will try to update weekly. But if there is any week that I find this difficult to do, I will be sure to communicate with everyone about this. So, let's do this. I will be dropping teasers for the next chapter on Fridays for my next chapter... And every Saturday night, I will tell everyone whether they should expect an update the next day. If you don't hear from me on my story on Saturday, it means I'm not updating the following Sunday. If you do, then yay, I guess.

Btw, my Instagram is Lovetori__xo.
Please follow to keep up with updates there. Thank you!❤️🤞🏽

Nonetheless, I am very EXCITED for this new chapter! I don't know, but I just know that you all will absolutely LOVE this one! The song for the chapter is Soldier Man by Josiah Bassey (He was my friend in secondary school and I am recommending this because I listened to that song for the most part of my writing of this chapter). The Media is above. Enjoy. Mwah!😘

Without no much talk, let's begin the chapter. In 3, 2, 1...

~ NANA~

The whole school was talking about Marcus Acha throwing a chair at Ss3 students.

And coming from me, a guy who barely even knew anything that went on inside and outside the vicinity of Castron High, that was enough entail for anyone to know how badly and how rapid fire his name was spreading.

I was in charge of the School's Media and sound system, and hence, throughout the entire Assembly, the Media Room upstairs of the Hall was my sanctuary. My refuge. I didn't step down from that place, and not just because I didn't have a choice and my absence, even for a split second, was enough to completely disrupt and disorganize the natural workings of the sound and visual system. Think about cracking microphones, glitching screen protectors, mishandling of the mixer board and causing loud, unbearable screeching sounds to come reverberating round the entire hall, wrong slides, and like last term, maybe even nudes being displayed on the projectors for the whole school to see, courtesy of unruly and rouge Ss2 boys who bursted into the Media Room, in my absence. All sorts and shades of chaos.

I mean, some days, Chido helped. The Juniors were much more afraid of him than they were of me, so it prevented a lot of stress on my part. However, the sound and visual system and all its palava was not all that kept me up here. Moreso, it was my need to be away from drama. Drama like the one that ensued earlier this morning the second that Marcus Acha had stepped foot into the premises.

Unfortunately, I didn't need to witness it first hand to hear a handful of rumors swirling around all in the name of him. Marcus was being torn apart, mocked, insulted and dragged like a criminal tied to the back of car against rough, hard tiles.Even for me, a guy whose hideout was a dark room filled with mixed boards and speakers and wires and all junk alike, I knew too much about the few words that spread about him. I could only fear what the average Castron High student had to say about the boy, how much spite and bitterness laid in their tongue at the sound of his name. To the best of my knowledge, I didn't know anyone else who thought of Marcus as a human being.

Somebody even called him Pennywise.

"Good afternoon, Senior."

I paused, my steps falling into a sudden halt on the voice I presumed was speaking to me.

It had to be me.

To the best of my knowledge, I was the only person left in the Hall, after all the students had wandered off to their various class blocks following the close of assembly and the prefects has released all the punished students outside the hall and driven them them to their different classes

And to add to that fact that I also personally also asked the other boys who helped me out in the Media room to leave when they started overstaying. Because after all, I didn't want a query from the school authorities that I was holding back junior students when they were supposed to be in their classes, and besides, the rest of the work left by them to be done was a cakewalk. They had already swept and mopped the Media room, so all that was left for me was to crosscheck and filter requested slides for the afternoon board meeting, turn off all appliances and lock up the store room downstairs.

Not to almost walk into a tall, charcoal coloured, stitched-lip kid who blocked my path.

"Sorry, I meant, good morning, senior," he jumped slightly as he pitched in correction, whooshing air out in embarrassment as he quickly glanced down and away from the silver watch strapped around his wrist, "It's already thirty minutes past nine, and I am greeting Good morning, hehe."

I wasn't sure what was funny.

Not when I was busy observing the boy's every slightest move.

The way that his fingers played against the fabric of his well ironed school trousers, I hinted calculation. Also the fact that he was very left handed. The way his black soldier boots moved around the tiles, shifting his weight from one spot to the other, I could tell some sort of hesitancy. Also, the audacity and boldness to break rules. His flying shirt and pitch black socks further confirmed that notion. That stitches at the side of his lip also made it clear to me that this boy was a well seasoned WWE fighter.

And with the way he occasionally scratched his head, I feared a little touch of werey too. But, of course, madness was a common ailment Castron High students suffered anyway. Nonetheless, the boy looked slightly familiar. That stitched lip rang a bell somewhere, but it wasn't clicking no matter how much I watched the kid.

"I already helped you, Senior," he started saying with a large grin and I was completely lost, unsure of what he was talking about until shock slapped me in the face the second I heard the dangling of tiny metals, only to see him waving a bunch of keys in the air after pulling them out of his back pockets, "I already helped you lock the Store Room-"

"Who gave you those keys?"

He backtracked a bit, seemingly surprised at my reaction.

I supposed he expected me to thank him.

"Give it to me," I said to him, outstretching my hands to collect my property back.

It was my fault things like these kept happening. I shouldn't have been giving important roles in the Media to boys in Jss3 class, knowing that any senior could walk into the room in my absence and bully them. Looking at the stitched-lip kid, it was clear he was bigger and stronger than those little boys that aided me. His rascality made me suspect he may have even been my immediate junior. It all made sense how he could have walked in there and snatched the keys out from the hands of those boys, whether they consented or not.

"Give me the keys," I repeated to him, waiting for him to deliver the item he had stolen into my hands. "And leave this place after you do, because I'm locking the Hall behind me."

The kid didn't seem as much a troublemaker as he looked. He didn't argue. Didn't fight back or even protest. He just looked a bit a bit regretful, like a kid caught stealing candy, stepped up to me and quietly gave me back my keys.

As I stuffed the keys back into my backpack and aimed for the doors, I heard the boy's voice desperately calling back behind me.

"I'm sorry, senior. Please, don't be angry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble, I just thought I was helping. I was with you today in the Media Room today, and I even helped you with the mixer board!-"

I stopped when it hit me, observing the kid over my shoulder.

"And Abdul said he was going to tell you he gave me the keys," the boy was still explaining to my back, "I offered to buy him snacks after school and bring it to their Jss3 block if he gave me the Store Room keys. I just wanted to make the job easier for you, senior. I really didn't mean any harm."

Quietly, I turned around to give this rugged-looking boy a second look.

"What class are you?" I questioned him.

"Ss2 B, senior," he promptly answered.

He was telling the truth. Not just the truth of his class, but the truth in general. And all of a sudden, a pang of guilt sliced at my back for profiling him so quickly and so unfairly.

"Look, man, I'm sorry I misjudged you," I said to him, "That was wrong on my part. It's just that your set boys give me a really hard time."

His eyes lit up, a soft gleam in them that turned his entire persona from the wild beast I may have mistook him to be to a harmless puppy.

"I'd see why you would say that," he said to me, lips stretching into an understanding smile that I returned.

"Thank you, by the way," I said to the boy, "For helping out with the Mixer and all, but you can go to your class now. No junior is allowed to be around the hall after the morning assembly, unless otherwise instructed by the Head Prefects. I'm in no authority to keep you here."

With that, I expected him to fall into step behind me. Which he did. Only that he didn't stop stammering and stuttering behind me in a bid to try to get out words that were betraying him endlessly.

"Okay, but wait-But, I wanted to-slow down please, I just wanted to- I actually came here to see you for a reason-"

His words were a mess behind me and it didn't take me a saint to make me understand that the kid wanted something from me.

"I appreciate you," I said, his footsteps marching heavy in determination behind me as I spoke, "And I appreciate the passion too, and through your hard work, I do see potential. But our Media Crew is already full and there are no spaces for new members. If you want in enough, there are protocols. It's not just about showing up and asking. You can meet me during break - Ss3C- get a form, fill it, submit before the end of school and give me some time. I will get back to you, and if satisfied enough, I may further consider bending my own rules for you."

I locked the entrance doors of the door and headed to the exit; the boy was still following me around the place like a fly to poop.

"Senior, that's not why I'm here," he kept on, "I am on a campaign journey for my friend who is going for a prefect post and you're my first stop. She's been having a hard time after her posters and flyers were torn down and shredded. Her name is Kabrina-"

He had stopped talking, almost like his words died down in his throat the second that we stepped out of the Hall together.

I was still fondling the lock of the doors with the keys, making sure the doors were shut right, and I had not had a chance to see what it was that had stopped him dead on his tracks.

Until I did.

When I turned to the left wing of the Hall corridor, I saw what seemed to be the boy's nightmare, glaring into the windows and coveting it as his own mirror; his towering height was hovering over the window's rail top even as he crouched, back pack slung carelessly over his shoulder, as he tried to get a better glimpse of his reflection on the monochrome glass. A death masked glare sharpened in his eyes when he further stretched out his hands to dab against a freshly cut wound at top of his eye with a faded-coloured varsity jacket.

He looked so angry. I could tell he just had a fit. The scowl on his face was tight and the bruises and redness of his bright knuckles were too painful for me to even look at. The kind of anger that didn't even let him feel the pain he was inflicting on his open wound as he dabbed it.

And, somewhere, a few feet away, his ID card - which I figured he had probably ripped off his uniform - was lying hazardously on the ground. His name on it 'Jeffery Jarah Jarah' barely recognizable in all the shambles.

I believe Stitched-lip kid beside me had cussed, something along the lines of 'fuck' escaping through his teeth, as he retreated behind me. As if I could protect him. The boy seemed petrified, for some reason.

Moreover, the source of his mortification - JJ who he was hiding from - didn't even seem to have the slightest clue that we were even there with him.

Well, until he did.

"Come here, bastard."

He wasn't talking to me.

JJ couldn't have been talking to me.

And when the stitched-lip kid started to shuffle his feet, in grudging obedience to the command that JJ threw into the air, I figured it was the junior that he was summoning.

I wanted to stop this.

Whatever was about to happen.

For some reason, I just was not comfortable. And not because of the sudden drop in the atmosphere, the chills that were lingering in the air from JJ's coldness and sinister aura.

"Take." He shoved his hefty bag into the kid's chest, the latter shockingly not even budging or getting pushed back by the aggressiveness and force of JJ's push. "You know my seat, yes? Don't let me get to Ss3 F before you. And guard that bag with your life, what is inside can buy you and your goddamn family. Fool."

I saw Stitched-lip kid clench his jaw at the unnecessary insult. His eyes just broodingly roamed around the bag in his hands with some kind of precision, like he was either holding back words or the urge to deliver an uppercut that could send JJ's teeth flying. Or, both. However, he didn't put up a fight. Just swallowed it. Even if everything about him screamed red.

JJ, on the other hand, didn't seem to like the attitude. Picking it up with a raise of his brow, he cocked his head to the side. He watched him from that angle, dark eyes taking its time to scan the kid thoroughly from head to toe.

"Do you have something to say to me?" he asked the boy.

The kid didn't even move one bit even when JJ stepped up to him, face crooning into the side of the junior's face as he asked a second time in challenge, a heated threatening question.

"I want to hear words, bastard. Do you have something to say to me?" JJ threatened again.

Stitched lip swallowed heavily, forcing himself to suppress all his fury when he gave a short, clipped answer. "No."

"I thought so. Now, fix that fucking tramp face of your yours and look at me when I am talking to you!" he snapped at the kid.

The junior one did. Gaze moved from the backpack to JJ's face, gripping the backpack tightly enough for me to know that he sure was holding back, even though being submissive.

"Sorry." Was all he said.

JJ's eyes hovered around him for a menacing while longer, before he decided to let it slide, hissing and turning back to the mirror to continue dabbing on his wound.

It was cue to Stitched-lip kid to leave and he took it when he fell into step, only for JJ to stop him again with an addition to his instructions.

"Be careful sha," he said to the boy, "If Charlie Ba is in the block, act natural. Don't go and do mumu mumu and allow him to catch you. He shouldn't suspect that anything is inside that bag. Abi, I've made myself clear?"

The Junior nodded. "Yes, senior."

"Tch. Useless Ss2 boys." JJ hissed with his words, going back to the mirror and dabbing his cut.

The boy still stood there with his bags, possibly waiting to be officially dismissed. And, when JJ noticed he was still standing there, his head snapped the boy's direction, eyebrows burrowed tightly at the kid.

"Wetin you de find for here?!" He shouted, gesticulating his question with two fingers and a tighter scowl, "Why are you still standing here? Are you mad?!"

The kid seemed taken aback by the outburst. He made the mistake to even try to explain.

"No, senior, I just thought you weren't done with me yet-"

"-You still de follow me talk! Fuck off my face, my guy!" JJ barked at him.

At this point, Stitched lip kid's chest was heaving, teeth grinding in frustration and suppressed rage. Without arguing further, he turned around and started to leave, his breathing hard and heavy in all his pent up fury.

Unfortunately for him, JJ noticed again.

I saw the pause at the mirror, the side eye at the heaving kid, the brow raise, the dangerous chuckle, and the next thing, he flung his varsity jacket over his shoulder as he turned around to lean against the window and fold his arms in amusement, calling back the junior boy who had barely walked more than three feet in all his shaking anger.

"Bastard, come, come, come, come, come, come first!-"

Tawai!

"- You dey mad?!" JJ's words had accompanied that powerful backhanded dirty slap he landed on the boy's face. "See this mugu o! Who are you breathing for? Is that one asthma? Or, you want to challenge me or what?!"

This was my cue to step in.

"JJ, leave the boy alone," I said, "Allow him to go. The faster you do, the less likely he bumps into Charlie Ba on his way."

Frankly, I didn't care about whatever package he was hiding in that bag. Neither did I bother if it got into the Physics Teacher's hands. I just couldn't watch JJ attack this boy anymore, on some basis of superficial seniority. Just because he was class on top of him.

And when JJ finally released him, he barely acted like I even existed. Just went back to dabbing that wound with that jacket with anger that I found hard to comprehend. I understood that Marcus had thrown a chair at him earlier today during the Morning Assembly, but what I didn't understand was why JJ felt like he had the right to be that angry about it.

Even to the point of transferring his anger and frustrations into that injury that Marcus had inflicted on the top of his left eye when he threw that chair at him.

"What the fuck are you looking at, Nana?!" He suddenly snapped at me, right out of the blue, eyes blazing with an unsound fury, "Get the fuck out of here too! Get out! Get the fuck out!"

I quietly stared back at him, watching him calmly as he was pouring out his aggression on me.

"Stop looking at me like that! Are you here to come and give me lecture or what?! Get out, abeg! Fuck off!-"

"You should go to the Clinic and get that wound checked and cleaned out, J."

He looked at me like a deer in headlights, seemingly shocked at how unfazed I seemed to be by his outburst. Like he expected a different reaction.

And, I wasn't sure what reaction he expected from me. To fight him back? To cuss back at him? To scream at him too and tell him to get out too? Nah. The last emotion I felt looking at JJ was nothing even remotely close to anger.

"Using that Varsity Jacket to clean out your wound will only cause an infection," I told JJ in quiet words, calmly pitching in my suggestion, "Tetanus is no joke, Jeffery. Especially in an area dangerously close to your eyes. Go to the clinic, please."

He didn't scream or cuss or slam his fists on the wall anymore. But, the underwhelm on his face, the tight scowl as he looked me up and down, before hissing like a snake, was clear that he was not giving me back any sort of friendly energy.

And him, continuing his own first aid with that unsanitary jacket further proved it to me that my advice was nothing but useless noise to him.

"I don't know when I asked for your rubbish two cents," he huffed under his breath, and I wasn't sure if he wanted me to hear it. But, I did.

It was my cue to leave...

But, for some reason, I couldn't.

With a sigh, I started to surf through my backpack, searching for JJ's inhalers. The way I was seeing him, shouting and screaming and convulsing for no reasonable cause, he was driving himself into high blood pressure.

Or, a dangerous asthma attack.

"The things I do," I called out my own kindness as my hands rummaged the multiple charger chords that filled my bag.

If I had a list of wildest things things I have ever done - all my life - by all means, befriending JJ would be topping the ranks.

Or rather, letting him befriend me.

I was on my own that fateful day of our NECO Mock exams - Jss3 class, I can perfectly recall - when this 'anyhow' red haired, freckled kid bounced into the exam hall rascally late. Even the most focused person in the hall, stuck on the hardest algebraic equation would have noticed him dash into the building. Black tank top on and the school's uniform shirt he should have been wearing instead of that, flung carelessly over a shoulder as he shuffled his feet in without a care in the world. Bouncing in like a correct street kid.

I remember I tried to ignore him, even when his shadow fell against my answer sheet, my peripheral vision picking the second he had taken a U-turn in my direction. Continued minding my business even when he found a flimsy seat behind me, screeching the hinges against the ground as he noisily adjusted himself into it. Even tried to remain focused on my work when he spent the next thirty minutes, ripping bits and pieces of the plywood from his desk top and throwing it at my back, aiming into my shirt through the collar space. With the hopes that when I turned back to look at him, he would look towards the window and pretend he wasn't the one who did it.

It was when Mr. Harry had announced that we had 'five minutes left' that JJ came to the realization that he actually came for an examination and as a matter of fact, he didn't even have a pencil. He had no ruler either. No Mathset. No Calculator. Nothing. And he had come with us to write a Mathematics examination.

Three seconds into his panic breakdown, I got up from my seat and gave him my own pencil. Right before I went ahead to submit my answer sheet, with the multitude of other classmates who were already long finished and submitting theirs as well. And, till this day, I don't even know how JJ managed to handle that exam that day. Nor can I or anyone explain how he even managed to make it into Ss1 class with the rest of us. But all I know was that since that very day, JJ grew so fond of me that even if I tried to avoid him, I just couldn't run away.

He found me everywhere I ran to. A random classroom. The Boy's Bathroom. The Utility Room. Even Charlie Ba's Office. And then, on the last day of our exams, he had cornered me at the door - just after I had already packed up my things to run home- I thought I was finally going to see Jesus.

He started to thank me over and over, for the one millionth time, for giving him a pencil to write his exam that day. He told me that he wanted to give me a 'Thank you Gift' and I was about to insist that it was all good, that he didn't have to. But, before I knew it, he brought out and presented to me a hand made little box, wrapped halfazardly with tinfoil, its decoration bow made from carton, crooked and disheveled, and the little handwritten notebook-paper-turned-card by it, woefully misspelling my name.

I mean, it was the thought that counted... It kinda calmed me a bit. It was a kind gesture, rough around the edges, but still sweet. He asked me if I had video games in my house and because of his gesture, I couldn't decline when he asked to come over my place and play my MBA 2k. Only that he didn't warn me about bringing company, and voila, that was how I met Acha and Sean.

Still, I never intended to keep him. Just preferred to stay nice and lenient to him, because my personal space still was my priority. But that day when he started having 'what looked like a seizure' in my house and his friends had no idea where his inhalers were, I was the one who was able to save his life. His sister had later contacted me that day and when we met up in Gomery, she - in tears- begged me to take care of her little brother. Said he had a severe form of Asthma. And, stocked me with more of his inhalers. And since then, JJ's life was my priority.

Still, over the years, my spirit never seemed to relax with him. I just couldn't bring myself to feel at ease when JJ was around me. At first, I thought it was because of his lifestyle, how he had his hands unclean, soaked and drenched in all sorts of vices, from smoking to drinking to even taking and dealing illegal drugs. Everything that was far from Godly. But of course, I didn't bother the kind of lives anyone lived; I was just careful around people whose interests conflicted with mine. I didn't let everyone into my own personal space.

Still, I let JJ in.

And, kept him in.

Maybe a part of me believed he was redeemable... But something about JJ just never seemed right with me. And while I am still trying to adjust to him, to try to understand him, I learn about how he brutally stabbed his friend in the back the way he did that night of the Christmas Party.

Irrespective of how I felt about it, I knew I had a responsibility over this boy's head.

"Have this, Jeffery."

Two Inhalers. One because I knew he brought none to school, and an extra one because I knew he would lose the first one.

He calmly looked at me. The calmest he had been so far.

"If you lose them, call me," I told him, insisting, "Don't be afraid to."

JJ looked at me, his fight seemingly dying down, as he stepped up to me, and gently collected the inhalers from my hand.

And that was when I noticed it. What I was surprised I hadn't noticed before.

"Your high," I spoke on observation, he avoided my eyes but I had already seen the disassociation in them as the blazing anger from previously had cleared. "You're high, JJ. Aren't you?"

"I just took a quick blunt," he spoke, his defence subtle in his tone, "I'm not that high, man."

I sighed, disappointed.

"You know how smoking triggers your condition, and you still do it," I said to him, "Come on, man. Your sister is always so worried about you. Don't you think you should reconsider this lifestyle and try doing what's right for you for a change."

JJ scoffed. "Fuck what's right for me."

I didn't engage him in an argument, neither did I push it.

Even if a part of me wanted to.

After mustering a polite smile to give him, I quietly bade him farewell. A truck load of questions, swirling through my mind the whole entire time I walked away, leaving JJ there behind me.

I wanted to ask him, wanted to know what he gained from all of this. What he gained from every bad decision he made. What he even gained from betraying his friend. I wanted to understand him, to find excuses I had run out of him to give him. To convince myself that I could trust him again. But, how could I? How could I trust a person who could easily hurt people he claimed to care about?

If he could do what he did to Marcus, then JJ wouldn't even think twice to throw me under a bus. All he'd need was a whooping offer in exchange for my blood.

And, yet, knowing this, a part of me couldn't ignore the responsibility I had over his head. Nonetheless, before I had the chance to turn around and go back, I got stopped by the buzzing of my phone in the back pockets of my school trousers.

Before I could reach in and pick it up, it came a second time, vibrating a couple more times behind me. I chuckled, couldn't help it really, because by default, I already knew who it was blowing up my phone with such rapid fire messages.

~ 11 MESSAGES FROM PEACHY ~

Hi, Nnaemeka!
I haven't seen you in school today! Where are you?!
---

I wanted to say hi before class started, but I was shy!🙈
I wasn't sure how to just walk into the Media room, uninvited, so I thought I would greet you in the Hallway instead!
---

Should I see you? Do you want to see me? Should we see each other? I want to see you! Do you think I'm desperate?!
---

Oh, fuck! I deleted for myself!
---

* Inserts Purple Teddybear sticker *

---

You looked REALLY nice when I saw you this morning, you were glowingggg!
Did you do something new to your hair? Should I braid it for you?
---

Omg. I'm so embarrassing.
---

Sorry for being embarrassing, I don't want to scare you away. Do I scare you?
---

Oh, Chukwu Chim Church.🙂
---

That's how I've done like this and almost forgotten why I actually came here to your DMs o. Ebube and always getting carried away! Na wa for me sha!
---

Oya! Check your Telegram and see what I sent you! Check it now! Now! NOW!🗡️
---
Sent 9:27am.

I laughed. I actually laughed. Ebube Onuoha was absolutely hilarious. And it was easy to smell her texts from a while away. She never ever sent a single message, not when she had the option of sending one thousand and one more of them.

Needless to say, it was something I found more wholesome than I genuinely imagined I could.

And, without wasting much time, I went to check what she had to show me on Telegram, mindlessly walking down the streets with my phone almost pressed into my face in total focus and curiosity.

We did this from time to time. She would send me 'fun facts' videos on Telegram, many videos that were nothing less than forty five minutes long each and I watched it all from start to finish. She would send links to her favorite YouTube series and show me countless lists of her new Spotify playlists. Bombard me with voice notes of her singing her favorite songs, holding special Ruth B concerts in my DMs while I laughed warmly to myself, wrapped myself cozy inside my blankets, and played all of them, one by one. One audio of hers and then, to the other.

So, everytime that she had something new to show me on Telegram, a feeling of anticipation hit strong inside me.

I branched the app, opened it, and went straight to her chats at the top of my contacts, eagerly trying to see what it was that she was so happy to show me.

But when I did open it to see the picture she sent, staring back at me. I was thrown into a little bit of confusion. Only for a new message from her to follow suit.

PEACHY
Are you leaving me on read now?🙂🗡️
Sent 9:29am.

I was fast to give a response, quickly clearing up the misconception before it grew even more.

ME
No, no, no, no!
No, I wasn't leaving you on read. I just went to check what you sent on Telegram. I'm here now.
Sent 9:29am.

Her response jumped in, even before mine had the chance to be ticked blue.

PEACHY
Relax, I'm just playing with you.😂
But, did you see it?!
Sent 9:29am.

ME
I mean, I guess...
You sent me a picture of myself. I don't know if you meant to send something else and sent it by accident...
Sent 9:30am.

That was why I seemed to be confused. What stared back at me was a picture of myself, on a day I remembered a little bit more detailed that I should be able to recall. It was roughly into the new year when Ebube invited me to come with her to watch a bandshell with her in Greenland Park. She didn't warn me that she was also setting me up to get some ice cream with her at the venue and when I told her I was lactose intolerant, she didn't even try to cute talk me into giving it a try. She was ready to shove both cones into her mouth right in front of me, telling me about how she didn't remember the last time she had actually eaten ice cream with her mouth full of whipped cream and vanilla.

It was cute. Nothing out of my comfort zone.

Well, until she made us stop at a Shawarma joint in Chef Joe's because she loved how the sun was reflecting on my skin and she had to capture the memory.

Only that I didn't like taking pictures.

But she seemed excited, so I let her have that moment. She managed to force an introverted quiet kid like myself to sit on one of the benches and 'pose for a picture'. I felt awkward, unsure of how to keep my posture and face as she adjusted her camera in all angles, but she loved how the picture turned out nonetheless.

PEACHY

Omg, Nnaemeka!🤦🏾❤️
Of course, I meant to send it to you!
I was scrolling through our pictures of that day we went to Greenland and I saw this one, and remembered that you didn't want me to send it to you. I have that too, you know. That thing were you don't want to see your face in pictures or hear your voice in recordings, but when you give it some time - maybe a few weeks- and go back it, you'll see you were just being paranoid and you didn't look or sound as bad as you thought you did! And, see?? The picture turned out great!
Sent 9:31am.

I chuckled at her message, that subconscious smile lingering on my lips. I mean, I guess I looked okay. If she believed it so strongly.

{A/N: I tried uploading the image here, but Wattpad keeps dragging the quality into mud. Looks like something that was snapped from Nokia touch phone. So, um, I will post it on my Instagram. With an excerpt of this chapter as indication of what I am referring to. ❤️🤞🏽}

PEACHY
Do fast and come to class block sha. It's already past 9:30, before Charlie Ba will slip you for coming late sha. He won't hear you were busy in the Media o. You're always so busy. Is that how you'll be busy when you get a babe? Eh?😏
Sent 9:32am.

She did it so easily. Said the kind of things that could make me laugh, no matter what mood I was in. Both sides of her, in texts and in person, they managed to make me so amused. And, yes, in the best way I could be.

ME
Why are you so obsessed with me having a girlfriend, Ebube?😂
Sent 9:33am.

She reacted a heart message. A heart message. I wasn't sure why but I was very particular about every reaction she made to every message that I sent, I had never texted anyone who used so many reactions. Every emoji she used as a reaction stood out to me in every message, almost like it was giving me insights to how she was responding to things in person... Wherever she was, texting me.

Or, maybe I was just overthinking things.

PEACHY
Why wouldn't I be?
A romance story can bubble at the slightest opportunity, the slightest 'Oops! Sorry, you dropped this!'
Before I blink now, the next thing I could be hearing is that Nana Obi is now dating one of our set girls!-

I had not even finished reading Ebube's message when someone bumped into me; lilted accents, strawberry scents, and high pitched giggles, swirling all around me as my phone came flying out of my hands, heading towards the ground if my reflexes had not prompted me to catch it mid-air.

"Christ, I'm so sorry," Prissy gasped, startled, but that was about all the attention she gave me. She and her friend, surrounded by the multitude of Class B girls that flocked around the both of them, stepped around me, chatting and laughing and gossiping away.

Bunny, one of the frolicking girls in the group, had played her acrylic nails around my neck and shirt collar as she brushed past my side.

"Nice hair, Nana Obi! Digging the new look sha," she remarked teasingly, and the rest of the group bubbled into a chorus of laughter as they hopped away.

My senses lingered on them even after they had walked past, watching them over my shoulder as my steps continued, a free hand through my mane of hair. I wasn't sure how to feel about the encounter, especially since I did absolutely nothing new with my hair.

All I knew was that, for many years, my hair had played a huge significance on my name, reputing me as the 'quiet boy with the silky bush on his head'. It was a status that I wasn't sure how to take, whether as a compliment or some form of mockery, and that was exactly the same way I felt towards Bunny and her just-now statement.

Hardly, it wasn't something that I could dwell on too easily. But, one thing was for sure, and that was the realization that had dawned on me; the noise that was amplifying by the second, the loud guffawing of over energized boys who slammed bro hugs into each other, slapped handshakes at one another, the louder screams of girls who gushed at each other's outfits and hairs and makeup and ran after boys who chased them back, the cliques, the trios, the duos, the couples, the ones who fawned over everybody in a desperate bid to fit in, the entire mumble jumble in the air, it was then that I realized...

I was already in the Ss3 Class Block Hallway.

Imagine it so. How I could have been so carried away, sending and receiving chats with Ebube to the point I had not even had the slightest clue of when I stepped foot into this zoo.

Slipping in throwing the crowds, my only mission was to reach my class unnoticed. And, keeping my eyes on the ground, I hoped that I would avoid any form of interaction. Hopefully, I could reach my class without anyone pulling me into a social circle I'd rather not be in, forcing myself to nod and smile as I planned an escape ruite from the group. Or, even another girl drawing her fingers around my neck my neck and giving me questionable compliments.

I didn't like this part of entering into the Hallway. Not when all I wanted was to be on my own, be left alone. So, with my heavy bag slung over one shoulder, I traced the designs on the tiles of the ground as I headed straight towards those opened doors of Class C. And just when I was about to step in, the second I had put a foot, just one foot, into the classroom-

Ping!

Ping!

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Normally, I would have ignored it. The barrage of message notifications that were resounding from my phone, vibrating in my pockets, I would have ignored it.

Only that I knew that I only knew one person, and one person alone, who always sent more than one messages at a stretch.

FIVE NEW MESSAGES

PEACHY:

OMG! I SEE YOU!-

I halted.

If she could really see me, then she would have also seen how the second that I opened her message, I had frozen on my spot. And stayed on that spot as my brain calculated what to do next. Ignore the message and walk into class? Or, face my fears, walk back into the buzzing crowd of classmates, in a search for her.

My body acted before my mind could make a decision, and I saw myself turning around to survey the crowd of classmates in the hallway, dismissing everything that wasn't Ebube in a heartbeat, scrutinizing all it's angles and corners who anything that even looked like her in the slightest.

PEACHY:
Behind you, Nnaemeka.
Look behind you.

Something dropped into my stomach, hard enough to knock a little breath out of me. I obeyed. Turned around. And I didn't need to look any further, not when my eyes picked her up in a split second from that distance.

It was like she was the only person there.

I mean Ebube Onuoha was there, and there was a crowd, but only she was there. She barely said a word as she mixed into the midst of the others, hands fiddling and playing quietly with the tips of her hair. That hair... The same blue weaves I remembered from last night when she came visiting my house. The one that had me wondering if she would actually have the boldness to come to school with today.

She really did.

And, she looked exceptional in it, her honey brown skin glistening brighter and clearer than ever, popping out an earthy girl glow as it whisked in with the gloss that shined on her perky, heart shaped lips. Everyone else in the group had laughed at something, except her. I wasn't sure how she did it, but Ebube was two different people. I liked to differentiate it with her in texts and her in person. In texts, she was a handful, but in a good way. In person, she looked like she could not say more than two words. It took her at least thirty minutes into every one of our meet ups before she started to say more words...

I didn't understand why. I didn't understand her. But, I enjoyed her.

I enjoyed looking at her too.

She was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. In many ways I couldn't explain, many things I didn't think I could see as beautiful. Like the wild colors she used on her hair, for example. It was too sharp, something I could have looked at and dismissed her in a heartbeat. The glitters on her lashes too, the last thing I could possibly had found cute. Those acrylics that stretched long and sharp on her fingernails, things that had never appealed to me before. They looked good on her.

In every way.

Every contrast, from of the bright blue of her hair that was blending aesthetically with the sparkling white colour of her baggy school shirt. The camouflage red bandana that wrapped loosely around her neck, shell necklace vaguely visible beneath it. The fine sangria red of that school skirt that hung inches above her knee, swaying in every direction that the wind blew it, the hem of it dancing against the black net hose she wore, as she shifted her boots from one foot to the other, listening attentively in her circle.

How do I explain that she glowed?

Or, that I was staring at her for too long, brain clearly fogged, unable to realize it, until I did, that she was not even looking in my direction. Not even glancing at me.

This, I found ironic because Ebube was the one that just texted me, demanding for me to turn around and notice her. And, yet, she acted oblivious to my presence. She didn't act like she knew anyone was staring at her, like I could have turned around as she asked me to and found her. Nah. She didn't even look my way. And when I checked back on her on Whatsapp, she was completely offline too.

Maybe, that was my cue to walk away and go back into class.

But, no, I chose to stand there and stare at her in that group like a certified creep, leg fixed in one spot when I should have been throwing myself into my classroom. I kept staring and staring and staring...

Until one of them noticed.

Oh, no.

She had to notice. But who was she to blame? I mean, anyone with a keen sense of intuition or at least the slightest observation skills would have noticed the kid across the hall, staring blankly at them.

So, when Chika Chioma who was leaning against the wall with folded arms, coolly watching Soma as the latter vibrantly engaged Aaron and Casper with excited gisting and wild gesticulations, made a face, it was another cue for me to leave. When she had frowned, brows furrowing in her confusion, it was my third chance. Again, I should have walked away.

But, no, I still stayed there. I stayed there until Chika stood up against the wall, focus moving away from Somadina Best. Her peripheral vision and super senses were on alert, surveying, in a careful bid to pinpoint what didn't feel right...

Until it stopped on its target.

The worst part was that in that moment, Chika was not the only one who had caught me staring at their clique, and possibly, maybe even at Ebube directly. The entire clique of Igbo Sisters, plus Aaron and Casper, followed the direction Chika landed her gaze. All of them, staring back directly at their stalker:

Me.

Lmaooo, ain't looking good for Nana, is it?😂 I had to cut this chapter here because it was getting too long. And that's why it's paining me that I was not able to get the other part of the second update ready, but oh well. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter nonetheless.❤️

Frankly, I didn't want to write Nana being so swooned, but these characters write themselves at this point tbh. Btw, the fact that Ebube seems to have two very conflicting sides should be a food for thought... What do you think?

And notice how the moment that Nana found Ebube, she was the only person he noticed. How he kept addressing her in the midst of a 'group' over and over, a group he wasn't even bothered to elaborate. Only when he got caught staring and snapped out of the spell that he finally was able to pinpoint the names of the people in the group. Omoh sha. I just find someone who doesn't care about anyone else when I am around. God go do am sha. 😂🤞🏽

Also, there are some rumors about Ebere liking Nana... We go soon open that chapter. But still, notice how even after Nana started calling the names after getting caught, he called Chika, Soma, even Aaron or Casper, and yet notice how Ebere was not even noticed in the slightest in Nana's eyes. All I will say is Omoh sha. Because this TMBT no go even funny. We've not even started. 😂😂🔥

And let's talk about JJ? 😂🤞🏽
Any thoughts on him? Comment everything!!

Anyways, see you next week by God's grace. And like I said, I will be giving updates on my Instagram if I would update or if I won't. So, please follow my Instagram (Lovetori__xo) and keep in touch with me. I AM POSTING THE PICTURE OF NANA THAT EBUBE SENT TO NANA THERE O! IF YOU LIKE, DON'T FOLLOW O!

Thank you and God bless! Love you all!❤️🤞🏽