The Real Me

Chapter 5. The Warning

Anastasia's Pov

Gilbert and I had just finished reading up to chapter 20, leaving only five chapters until the end, when his friends arrived, calling him for a football match against the hostel boys.

After they left, I found myself wondering where Beatrice had gone after borrowing Gilbert's phone to take some pictures.

Now, it was just me and my books, surrounded by silence.

As I scrolled through my phone, I noticed an incoming call from Gilbert.

I stared at his name flashing on the screen, puzzled as to why he was calling me when he had just left with his friends—and Beatrice had his phone.

The call ended abruptly but rang again. A mix of curiosity and concern washed over me as I answered.

"Hello?" I said, hoping to hear his voice.

"Gilbert?" I called again, but only silence met my ears.

Suddenly, a girl’s voice broke through, asking, "Who is it?" I couldn’t tell if she was addressing me or someone else on her end.

"I don’t know," another voice replied, and just like that, the call disconnected.

I looked at my phone, confusion bubbling inside me. What the hell was going on?

I dialed Beatrice's number since she was the one holding Gilbert's phone, hoping to find out if it was still with her. But her phone was switched off.

Sitting there, I stared at my phone—specifically at Gilbert's number—debating whether I should call him to figure out what was happening or just leave it alone.

I chose the latter, deciding not to worry myself over it.

Instead, I began browsing t****k videos using the school Wi-Fi.

This had become my routine: sitting quietly, enjoying the serenity while simultaneously feeling the weight of loneliness.

If it were a school day, I would have been reading a novel alone, as we weren't allowed to have our phones during the week.

Only on weekends were we permitted to talk to our families or anyone else we wanted.

By Sunday evening, before 7 PM, we had to submit our phones to the house mistress, only to get them back the following Friday after school.

I contemplated calling my family, but I didn’t need anything from them at the moment.

I knew that if I called, it would lead to an awkward conversation, and I wasn't ready for that.

Time passed in a blur, and soon I was preparing to go for preps. Beatrice was doing the same.

After the incident this afternoon, I had seen her again during dinner.

I asked her about the call, and she assured me it wasn’t her, explaining that she had given Gilbert’s phone back to him before they played football.

I didn’t press for more details; it wasn’t worth my thoughts.

Once I finished getting ready, I told Beatrice I would wait for her outside.

I stood just outside the boarding house when I heard someone call my name.

"Anastasia, right?" I turned to see Bridget standing a little distance away with her friends, who seemed more like her followers.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Okay, I’ll be honest with you," Bridget said, sizing me up.

"I don’t want to see you with Karter, and I don’t care what your deal is with him. Just stay away from him."

With that, she turned and walked away, her friends trailing behind her.

I stood there, watching her retreating figure, confused about who this Karter was.

Was she talking about Gilbert? The thought barely registered as a threat; I felt strangely unfazed.

"Let’s go, Anas," Beatrice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I followed her as we headed to campus.

We have preps throughout the semester on weekdays and weekends, except Saturdays, lasting two hours from 7 PM to 9 PM.

As we arrived at the school building, students milled about in the hallways and classrooms.

I knew it wasn’t quite 7 PM yet, but instead of sitting down, many of them, including Beatrice, chose to roam around the campus.

I made my way to our classroom alone. Inside, there were only three other people: two girls from my class and a boy I recognized but didn’t know.

I hadn’t even settled into my seat when I heard a voice call out, "Omah Karter!" I turned swiftly, nearly straining my neck in the process.

The voice belonged to the boy in the class, and he was referring to Gilbert, who had just walked in with his friends, Samuel and Felix, both of whom are also in our class.

I watched as Gilbert shook hands with the boy and exchanged casual greetings with him, and Felix who was animatedly asking him how he was doing. I got to know his name is Clinton.

As they chatted and laughed about something I couldn’t quite catch, I observed their dynamics: Felix was the talkative one, Samuel was quieter, and Gilbert seemed to balance the two. Clinton, on the other hand, was quite the chatterbox.

Suddenly, the siren blared, signaling the start of our prep session.

I glanced around the classroom; there were barely fifteen students present, and Beatrice was still missing.

I settled into my seat, pulling out my science textbook and assignment book.

Prep time was my designated moment to tackle assignments, and I had quite a bit to catch up on.

But my thoughts kept drifting back to Gilbert—Karter, as he was also known.

I couldn’t shake the warning his girlfriend, Bridget, had given me.

Usually, I brushed off what people said, whether it was praise or criticism.

Yet Bridget’s words lingered in my mind.

Did she really think I had a crush on Gilbert, or was she just intent on driving away any girl who got close to him? It was infuriating, especially since I wasn’t even that close to Gilbert.

For some reason, I felt a rebellious urge to provoke Bridget, to do the very opposite of what she had warned me against.

Why not? I wasn’t afraid of her; I could stand my ground. If anything, I could be the bully if pushed too far.

Just then, Beatrice plopped down in the seat beside me, a crinkly rubber bag in hand that clearly contained food.

Typical Beatrice—always snacking, especially if it was something one of her male friends had given her.

“Where did you go?” I asked, knowing full well she might not give me the truth.

“I was with Sarah; I escorted her to buy food,” she replied, placing the bag on the table.

“And she bought this for me—noodles!” she added, pointing to the rubber bag.

Ah, so it was a female friend this time. I smiled at her and turned my focus back to my assignment.

Despite the prep session officially starting, the class buzzed with noise.

Then, suddenly, an eerie silence fell over the room. I looked up from my book, scanning the classroom.

Some students were engrossed in their textbooks, while others, like me, seemed puzzled by the sudden change.

My eyes locked with Gilbert’s, and I quickly looked away, my heart racing. What was wrong with me? Why was I so flustered?