The girl with a plan

Chapter One — The List At seventeen, Amara had her whole life planned out. At least, that was what she told herself. She had a small notebook hidden underneath her mattress. The cover was old and slightly torn, but inside it were the things she wanted most. Good grades. University. Financial freedom. A beautiful life for Mama. And, somehow, happiness. She had written the list two years ago and refused to change it. Every morning before school, Amara would read it. Not because she had everything figured out, but because she was afraid that if she stopped reminding herself of her dreams, life would convince her to give up on them. “Amara!” Her mother's voice came from downstairs. “You'll be late for school!” “I'm coming!” She quickly closed the notebook and pushed it beneath her pillow. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her uniform wasn't new. Her shoes had been polished so many times that the leather was beginning to crack. But she smiled anyway. “Today will be different,” she whispered. She didn't know why she said it. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was foolishness. Or maybe some part of her already knew that today really would be different. At school, Amara's best friend, Nneka, was waiting near the classroom. “You're late,” Nneka complained. “I woke up late.” “You? The girl that wakes up before the alarm?” Amara laughed. “Don't start.” They walked into class together. The room was already noisy. Students were talking, laughing and moving between desks. Then Amara noticed him. A new student. He stood beside the teacher, looking completely uninterested in everyone's curious stares. “This is Daniel,” their teacher announced. “He'll be joining your class.” Daniel simply nodded. When he looked around the classroom, his eyes stopped briefly on Amara. For some reason, she looked away first. Nneka noticed. “Oh.” Amara frowned. “What?” “Nothing.” “Nneka.” “I said nothing.” Amara rolled her eyes. She had no time for distractions. She had a plan. And boys were definitely not part of it. By the end of the school day, Amara was already tired. She walked home alone, holding her books against her chest. Her phone vibrated. It was a message from an unknown number. Unknown: You dropped your pen in class. Amara stared at the screen. Amara: Who is this? The reply came almost immediately. Unknown: Daniel. She smiled before she could stop herself. Then she remembered her list. She shook her head. “No distractions,” she whispered. But as she continued walking home, she couldn't help wondering why the new boy had bothered to pick up her pen. And why she was smiling about it. For the first time in two years, Amara's carefully written plan had a tiny question mark beside it. She just didn't know yet that one small question mark would eventually change everything.