Chapter 3-The Debate War
1097 Words
By Wednesday morning, the tension in SS2 Gold had thickened.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But present.
Divine felt it when she entered the classroom.
Sampson felt it when she didn’t look at him.
And Sasha definitely felt it when the class teacher walked in with a list in her hand.
“Attention, everyone.”
The chatter died down.
“There will be an inter-school debate competition in two weeks,” Mrs. Ibijoke announced. “Green Crest Academy must maintain its reputation.”
Of course.
Reputation.
Everything in this school revolved around it.
“I have selected two representatives from SS2 Gold.”
A pause.
Sampson already knew his name would be called.
He had been the lead debater since SS1.
“First, Sampson Chukwu.”
No surprise.
Light applause filled the room.
Sasha smiled proudly.
Then—
“Second, Divine Tamuno.”
The applause this time was slower.
Curious.
Interested.
Sampson turned his head sharply.
Divine blinked.
Debate?
She hadn’t expected that.
“You both will see me after class,” Mrs. Ibijoke finished.
After school, they met in the empty Civic Education room.
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the desks.
Mrs. Ibijoke handed them a printed sheet.
“Motion: Social media does more harm than good to academic performance.”
Sampson scanned it quickly.
“This is straightforward,” he said.
Divine tilted her head. “Not entirely.”
He looked at her.
She continued, “It depends on usage patterns, accessibility, and digital literacy.”
A slow silence followed.
Mrs. Ibijoke smiled slightly. “Good. I want structured arguments. Sampson will open. Divine will present the second argument and rebuttal.”
Then she left.
The door clicked shut.
Now it was just the two of them.
Sampson leaned against a desk.
“We’re arguing that social media does more harm,” he said.
Divine nodded. “So we emphasize distraction, reduced concentration span, cyberbullying—”
“And misinformation,” he added.
She looked surprised.
“Exactly.”
A small pause.
Then she frowned slightly at the paper.
“We shouldn’t ignore the positive aspects completely,” she said.
Sampson raised a brow. “We’re not supporting it.”
“Yes, but acknowledging the opposition makes the argument stronger.”
He studied her.
“You debate?”
“Sometimes,” she replied simply.
He gave a short nod. “Fine. But we control the narrative.”
Her lips twitched slightly. “Control?”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
An hour into preparation, things changed.
“You’re structuring it wrong,” Sampson said flatly.
Divine looked up from her notebook. “No, I’m not.”
“You can’t start rebuttal that early.”
“Yes, you can if you anticipate their strongest point.”
“That’s risky.”
“It’s strategic.”
He exhaled sharply.
“You like doing things your own way, don’t you?”
She met his eyes.
“I like doing things properly.”
The air shifted.
Not hostile.
Charged.
Sampson walked closer to see what she had written.
Too close.
She became aware of how tall he was.
How calm his breathing sounded.
How his presence seemed to fill the space.
He reached for the paper at the same time she did.
Their fingers brushed.
Both froze.
It was barely a second.
But something passed between them.
Electric.
Unexpected.
Divine quickly pulled her hand back.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he replied, voice lower now.
He looked down at her notes.
Silence stretched.
Then—
“This is actually good.”
She blinked. “You’re surprised?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
A corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
There it was.
The almost smile.
She noticed.
And for a brief moment—
She forgot they were competitors.
They practiced.
Back and forth.
Argument.
Counterargument.
Correction.
Refinement.
At some point, they stopped disagreeing and started building.
Finishing each other’s points.
Strengthening weak spots.
Moving in sync.
It was unsettling how natural it felt.
“You’re intense,” Sampson said after she dismantled one of his mock opposition arguments.
She shrugged lightly. “I don’t have the luxury of being average.”
That answer hit differently.
He looked at her more carefully now.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
She held his gaze.
“Yes.”
The room went quiet again.
Not awkward.
Just heavy with understanding.
Unbeknownst to them, someone had paused outside the half-open door.
Sasha.
She watched the way they leaned over the same desk.
The way Sampson listened.
The way Divine spoke without fear.
And something unpleasant twisted in her chest.
This wasn’t just academic anymore.
She stepped away before they could see her.
Back inside, Divine closed her notebook.
“We should practice the opening once more.”
Sampson nodded.
He stood straighter, confidence settling over him like armor.
“Good afternoon, honorable judges—”
She interrupted.
“Project your voice slightly more at ‘honorable.’ It sets authority.”
He stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly—
He laughed.
A short, real laugh.
“You’re correcting me?”
“You’re welcome.”
For a split second, they both smiled.
Not competitive.
Not guarded.
Just human.
And that moment lingered longer than it should have.
When they finally left the classroom, evening light painted the courtyard gold.
They walked side by side in silence.
“You know,” Sampson said quietly, “most people are intimidated here.”
“By you?” she asked.
A slight smirk.
“By the system.”
Divine looked ahead.
“I was intimidated.”
He glanced at her.
“You don’t act like it.”
She stopped walking.
“Acting and feeling aren’t the same.”
That honesty caught him off guard.
He didn’t know what to say.
So instead, he said the only thing that felt true.
“We’ll win.”
She studied him.
Not arrogance.
Certainty.
“I know,” she replied softly.
And somehow, it didn’t feel like a rivalry anymore.
It felt like a partnership.
Dangerous.
Powerful.
Complicated.
From a distance, Sasha watched them walk out of the gate together.
Too close.
Too comfortable.
And in that moment, she made a decision.
If Divine Tamuno wanted to stay first in class—
Fine.
But she would not take everything else.
Not Sampson.
Not the spotlight.
Not the place Sasha believed belonged to her.
As the sun dipped lower over Green Crest Academy—
The debate war had only just begun.
And the real battle?
Was no longer about social media.
It was about hearts.
- Writer
