The Real Me

Chapter 2. My path

Anastasia's Pov

I burst into my dorm room, and there was Beatrice, sprawled across my bed, sleeping like a rock.

I shook my head, smiling wryly. What's wrong with this girl? She knows I get annoyed when she crashes in my bed, but she still does it every chance she gets.

We've been friends since primary 2, and it's crazy to think about how far we've come.

We went to the same schools, got lucky enough to end up in the same senior high, and now we're roomies in boarding school, away from home and family.

Beatrice is my go-to person, my partner in crime, and my confidante... well, sort of.

We don't exactly share our deepest secrets with each other, but we're always there for each other when it counts.

I kicked off my slippers and sat down beside her, gently shaking her awake. "Hey, Bea, wake up. Why are you sleeping in my bed again?" I asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

She opened her eyes, shifting slightly to look at me. "Mmm, you're back," she murmured, yawning.

I playfully pushed her out of the bed. "Yeah, get out of my bed already! Didn't you see I just made it before you came to mess it up?" I teased.

"Hey, easy! You'll hurt me. Stop it, and I'll get up," she said, laughing. She got up and sat beside me.

"I was looking for you as a good friend, you know. And now you're throwing me out?" she said, pretending to be offended.

I raised an eyebrow. "Looking for who? When I was looking for you this morning, where were you? I bet you were with one of your boyfriends," I said, arranging my things and straightening the bedsheet while nudging her gently.

Beatrice grinned mischievously. "Maybe," she said, knowing I was teasing her about her tendency to get absorbed in her relationships.

We both knew that when she was with a boyfriend, she often forgot about everything else, including our hangouts, until she was done and needed someone to talk to.

Beatrice has a gift for making friends with anyone she meets. If she takes a liking to you, she'll effortlessly break the ice and form a connection.

I'm the complete opposite – I struggle to initiate conversations with strangers.

In fact, all my friends here are people I met through Beatrice.

We came to this school around the same time, but I was too shy to reach out to anyone.

Despite being surrounded by nearly 300 new students on our first day, I found myself isolated and hesitant to interact with anyone.

People tried to talk to me, but I shut down, fearing they'd judge me or think I didn't belong.

But Beatrice changed everything. Through her, I met new people, and over our two years here, I've managed to form some meaningful connections.

While my social circle isn't as vast as Beatrice's, I'm grateful for the friends I do have.

And today, I got to add another friend to the list – someone who got to know me through Beatrice, but still, it's a new connection that I'm excited about.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Beatrice exclaimed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I asked, refocusing on her.

"I said, where were you today?" she repeated, her eyes curious.

"Just studying on campus," I replied nonchalantly.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"Eii, since when did you start studying?" she teased.

I didn't blame her; I wasn't exactly known for being a diligent student, especially not this early in the semester.

I chuckled. "Well, I'm a serious student now. And if you need a reminder, WASSCE is near."

Beatrice burst out laughing. "Haha, serious student, keh?"

She didn't believe me, and I couldn't blame her.

"If you don't believe me, tomorrow I'll go again. You can come with me if you want," I offered, trying to sound convincing.

"Gilbert was even with me today, and he said he'll come tomorrow too," I added, hoping she'd take the bait.

I'd heard rumors about Gilbert and Beatrice possibly dating, but she hadn't mentioned anything to me. I didn't pry; I knew better than to meddle in her personal affairs.

"Okay, if you say so, I'll come with you tomorrow," She said, getting up from my bed and heading to her own bed on the other side of the room.

Our dorm room was shared with four other girls, and we had three sets of bunk beds.

I was lucky to have snagged a bottom bunk, while Beatrice was stuck with a top one – which was why she often sneaked into my bed whenever she got the chance.

"Okay, I'm going to take a bath and get ready for dinner," I told her as I left the room.

....

Dinner was the usual chaotic affair, with students fighting for food due to the perennial shortage.

It was a challenge many of us faced under the Free SHS program, which, while providing free education, struggled to provide enough food for the thousands of students across the country.

My own journey in senior high school hadn't been easy.

Coming from a broken home, I'd grown accustomed to hardship.

My parents had divorced when I was six, and my twin siblings were just three.

We weren't rich, but we weren't poor either – we were somewhere in between.

However, things had taken a turn for the worse, and both sides of the family were struggling.

Sometimes, even getting a meal was a challenge, but I'd learned to make do with little.

The only reason I was able to attend boarding school was thanks to the kindness of a woman who stepped in to support me after I completed junior high school.

Even though the Free SHS program covered my tuition, there were still essentials I needed for boarding school – clothes, toiletries, and other necessities.

When my parents couldn't afford these basics, she covered the costs for me.

I was grateful for her support and my own hard work, which had gotten me to where I was today.

Without her help, I wouldn't have been able to make ends meet, and I thanked her every day for what she had done for me.

Lost in thought, I lay on my bed, enjoying the relaxed Saturday evening atmosphere since we didn't have prep.

It was already past 6 pm, and the room was quiet.

Suddenly, I heard someone calling my name – "Anas" – snapping me out of my reverie.

I turned my head to see Beatrice rummaging through her belongings, dressed in clothes that suggested she wasn't planning to stay in bed for long.

It was clear she was getting ready to sneak out to meet someone and wanted to give me a heads-up in case there was an inspection tonight.

"Where are you going?" I asked, noticing we were alone in the room.

She found what she was looking for and glanced at me briefly.

"I'm meeting someone and will be back shortly," she replied.

"Please cover for me, okay?" With that, she was out of the room.

I shook my head, wondering when she'd stop sneaking out.

I had no idea who she was meeting each time, as she kept it a secret.

While I'd continue to cover for her, I couldn't help but worry about the risks.

If she got caught, I'd be left to face the consequences without knowing what to say.

Her luck wouldn't last forever, and I hoped she'd be more careful.

She wasn't the only one who sneaked out; several other girls did the same, risking punishment to meet their boyfriends.

Despite getting caught and facing consequences, they'd still sneak out again.

It puzzled me – why didn't they learn from their mistakes?

Personally, I wouldn't risk my education for a relationship that likely wouldn't last.

High school romances rarely survive beyond graduation, and I doubted any boy would be worth jeopardizing my academic future.

Why gamble with something that was bound to end in heartbreak?

At some point, my thoughts must have lulled me to sleep, because the next thing I knew, I was drifting off.

Lost in my own world, I often found myself consumed by my thoughts.

It was a lonely existence, with my mind racing with ideas and worries.

I sometimes wondered if my introspective nature made me seem older than I actually was.