Love Unscripted

✨ Chapter Two:First Day Fire

It’s 7:30 a.m., and I’m still lying on my bed, pondering the dream I had earlier.

> “What if they don’t like me? Should I lie about my country? No way — that would be so dumb,” I whispered to myself.

“Kell! Kell! I hope you’re done — I’ll drive you to school!” my mom called out.

Her voice echoed from downstairs. She has such a loud voice. To be honest, I feel so special when she calls me Kell.

“Yeah, Mom… almost,” I said gently as I sprang up from bed and headed to the bathroom.

I got dressed and did a little makeup to brighten my face. I looked really cute. I wore a white long-sleeved crop top and a printed mini skirt, pairing it with boots. I wanted to look smart and decent for my first day at school.

Downstairs, I saw Nick having breakfast and decided to join him.

“Hello, Nigerian,” Nick said, flashing a smile.

“Hello, Texasian,” I replied with a grin.

“You’re hilarious. But that word actually exists,” he said, sipping his wine.

It was his first time eating our Nigerian jollof — what my friends and I back home call Hot Jollof. Nick loved it. He ate two full plates and even asked for more. I had mine and hopped into the car.

A few minutes later, Nick finished his third plate. Through the car window, I watched him knot his tie and hug Mom. Just as he was about to leave, she held him and kissed him.

“Aww, those two are so cute together,” I said to the driver who was waiting with the car.

“Yeah, they are,” he replied with a smile.

Truth be told, the driver was cute. I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was clearly Black-American — his accent and skin tone said it all.

“Yeah,” I said, still staring. “Can I at least know your name?”

“Okay, I’m Bryan,” he said, flashing a smile.

“Whoa, what a cute name,” I said.

“Okay, drive,” Nick said as he got into the car.

“Hold on, Nick... sorry, Dad. I think I left my phone in my room,” I said, stepping out of the Rolls Royce.

“Okay, Princess,” he replied.

I picked up my phone and AirPods — I really needed music to calm my nerves.

“Bye, Mom,” I said, pecking her on the cheek.

“Wait,” she said softly, caressing my hair. “The new life we’ve been waiting for is finally here. Play nice and cool. One more thing — ignore bullies and avoid bad friends.”

“Okay, Mom. Bye!” I said, jogging gently to the car.

Sarah Keston — my mom, to be exact. She’s a thirty-two-year-old light-skinned Nigerian with broad hips. Her smile is gorgeous, and just looking at her face inspires me.

“I’m back,” I said as I got into the car.

“Drive,” Nick instructed Bryan.

Nick followed me into the school building. Students were screaming and admiring the thirty-four-year-old man I call Dad, completely ignoring their teachers. I heard whispers:

> “Is that really Nick Keston’s daughter?”

“She doesn’t look anything like him.”

“She’s Black, he’s White… such a bad combo for this cute guy.”

Jealousy was clearly in the air — and honestly, it tickled my fancy.

A staff member directed us to the principal’s office, and we had a little chat.

“Good morning, Mr. Nick,” the principal said, giving me a cold, scary look.

> No way. That was scary. I’m not going to take it easy on her, I told myself.

“Good morning, Principal Michelle,” I said, smiling politely.

“Oh, thank you. How did you know my name? I bet you’ve heard a lot about me,” she said, smiling back.

“No, I saw the tag on your dress,” I replied.

“Oh… that’s fair,” she said, not looking too pleased.

“I hope you’re aware that this child—”

“Oh, you mean teenager,” I cut in sharply.

“Whatever… this teenager resumed late,” Principal Michelle continued.

“I’m so sorry about that. It’s complicated,” Nick said.

“Well, I’m sorry too, but—”

“You can have this. It’s all yours,” Nick said, placing bundles of real dollars on her desk.

“That’s nice of you,” she said, picking up the money.

“This is the list of books and novels for this semester. And this form here—fill it out and return it later today,” Principal Michelle added.

“Fair enough,” I said.

“What was that for?” Nick said to me as we walked out. He looked really pissed.

“What exactly?” I asked.

“You were rude back there,” he said sternly.

“Didn’t you see? She’s a racist,” I said, fighting back tears.

“We’ll finish this conversation at home,” he said, walking away.

Mrs. Gilberton — not sure she’s married, but I saw a ring on her fourth finger — led me to my class and formally introduced me. I walked in, scared and literally shaking. All eyes were on me.

“I don’t know much about our new student here, so I’ll let her introduce herself,” Mrs. Gilberton said. “Go on.”

“Hello, everyone,” I said shyly.

“Hello, newbie,” the class replied warmly.

“I’m Keller Keston. I’m... f-from Nigeria,” I said, still trembling.

“Ewww, Nigeria? I’m disgusted,” said Sasha, the class queen, and everyone burst out laughing.

For the first time in my life, I was actually angry — and I stood up for myself.

“Well, I think you should be disgusted. You look like a decapitated lab rat that’s already been experimented on,” I said, staring her straight in the eye. “And your face looks awful — even with all that makeup.”

“OH!” the entire class gasped.

“Wow! The first girl to talk back at our queen bee. I love her already!” said a girl named Tellyon, smiling.

“I see you’ve grown some teeth. Watch out for them,” Sasha snapped, tightening her fists.

“Watch out for yours too — you’ll never see what’s coming,” I replied, smiling devilishly.

“Okay, that’s enough! Sasha, to the principal’s office — NOW!” Mrs. Gilberton said sharply.