Growing Pains

GROWING PAINS

*Book Title:* `Growing Pains`

*Chapter 1: Too Young To Feel This Way*

_∼2050 words_

I turned 14 on a Tuesday.

Nobody remembered.

The cake in the kitchen was for my brother’s birthday from last month. The candles were still there, bent and dusty, stuck to the yellow plastic plate. I stood on my toes, reached for one, and blew on it anyway. The flame didn’t catch. I made a wish in my head.

_I wish someone would notice me._

The house was quiet. Mom was at the shop. Dad was on night shift again. My brother Tunde was in his room playing FIFA with the volume too loud. It was like my birthday was a secret I was keeping from myself.

At school the next morning, nothing was different. The gate was still rusty. The security man still shouted "Line up!" like we were soldiers. But I was different. Or at least, my body thought it was.

My uniform didn’t fit the same. The skirt that used to be loose was now pulling at the waist. The white shirt felt tight in places I didn’t have names for yet.

"Ah Ada, you’ve grown," Chioma said during assembly, eyeing me up and down. She said it like it was a crime.

I pulled my blazer down and stared at my shoes.

In class, Mr. Johnson was writing Mathematics on the board. X + Y = Trouble. That’s what it felt like. My mind kept drifting. To Tolu’s new lip gloss. To the way the SS2 boys stood by the gate after school. To the group chat I wasn’t added to anymore.

At break, we sat under the mango tree like we always did. Tolu, Chioma, and me.

Except it wasn’t "we" anymore.

"So guys," Tolu said, flipping her hair. She got a weave last weekend. "I have a boyfriend."

The air went still. Even the birds stopped.

"What?" Chioma screamed. "Since when?"

"Last week. He’s in SS2. His name is Femi. He plays football."

I smiled. "That’s nice, Tolu. Congrats."

My voice sounded normal. But inside, my chest was doing something funny. Tight. Heavy.

We talked about Femi for the whole 30 minutes. What he likes. What he eats. How he texted her "good morning beautiful."

I laughed in the right places. I nodded. But nobody asked me anything.

When the bell rang, Tolu grabbed my hand. "Don’t be jealous o," she whispered.

I wasn’t. I don’t think.

But why did my throat hurt?

That night I couldn’t sleep. The fan was spinning but the room was hot. I rolled to my side and hugged my pillow.

I’m 14.

I should be worried about exams and chores.

So why was I thinking about Femi’s hands? About what it would feel like to be called "beautiful" in a text?

I opened my diary. It was a pink book with a lock that didn’t work.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today Tolu got a boyfriend. Today I felt old and young at the same time._

_Today I googled "why do I feel empty." Google said "talk to someone."_

_Who?_

I closed it.

The next day was worse.

We had sports. Everyone was in PE kits. Mine was borrowed from Chioma and it was one size too small.

As we were running, I heard two SS2 boys behind me.

"Bro, see Ada’s nyash o."

"She’s growing well o."

My face burned. I ran faster, pretending I didn’t hear. But I did. And the worst part was a small, stupid part of me liked it.

After school, I saw them.

Tolu and Femi. Behind the library, where teachers don’t go.

His hand was in hers. She was laughing at something he said, her head tilted like she was in a movie.

I stopped walking. My bag felt like 100kg.

She saw me. Her eyes went wide for one second. Then she waved. "Ada! Hi!"

I waved back. "Hi guys."

My voice was steady. I was proud of that.

I walked home alone. The sun was too bright.

At home, Mom was frying plantain. The smell filled the whole house.

"Happy belated birthday, Ada," she said without looking up. "I forgot. Things have been crazy at the shop."

"It’s okay, Mom."

And it was. Almost.

That night, I couldn’t eat. I pushed the plantain around my plate.

Tunde noticed. "You sick?"

"No."

In my room, I opened my phone. Tolu had posted a picture. Her and Femi. Selfie. She was biting her lip. He had his arm around her shoulder.

47 likes.

My chest did that thing again.

I typed something in the search bar, then deleted it.

I typed again: "how to know if someone likes you"

Then: "is it normal to feel like this at 14"

Then I cleared everything and turned off my phone.

I’m not a child anymore.

I can’t play with dolls and beg for ice cream.

But I’m not an adult either.

I can’t drive. I can’t vote. I can’t even stay out past 7.

I’m stuck in the middle.

With a body that’s changing faster than my brain.

With feelings that have no name.

With friends who are moving on without me.

And the worst part?

There’s a boy in my class. His name is Emeka. He sits two rows in front of me. He always shares his pen. He once told me my handwriting was neat.

He doesn’t know I exist.

But I know his. I know the way he scratches his head when he’s thinking. I know he likes Gala and Coke.

Is that wrong? To like someone at 14?

I don’t have anyone to ask.

Mom is busy. Tolu is busy. Google doesn’t hug you back.

So I’ll write it here.

Maybe if I put the words on paper, they’ll stop spinning in my head.

_I turned 14 on a Tuesday. Nobody remembered.

But I remember.

I remember the day I realized I was growing up, and nobody told me how painful it would be._

End of Chapter 1

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