My Step Guardian

encounter

By the time I got back to the wide living room, the smell of food hit me.

Vivian was in the balcony, cooking something in a small pot like. wow do rich people do this also? I thought

“How was your first day of resumption?” I asked, leaning on the railing.

She didn’t look up. “Did your dad catch you ditching?”

I smirked. “Nope.”

“Then it wasn’t really rebellion,” she said simply, tasting from the spoon.

I stared at her for a long moment, trying to figure her out, but she just kept cooking.

“You’ll see tomorrow,” she added finally, a faint smile playing at her lips.

“Forest High isn’t the kind of place you figure out in a day.”

And somehow, that left me thinking about tomorrow all night.

I didn’t sleep much.

By the time the first light cut through my window, I was already dressed — plain school shirt, clean sneakers, nothing that said I cared too much, but nothing sloppy either.

When I came out, Vivian was already at the car, keys dangling from her finger like she had been waiting.

“ wait, do you have a license to drive that? I asked jokingly

She looked at me and rolled her eyes

“Ready?” she asked.

“Guess so.”

She tossed me the passenger door like it was no big deal, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the engine.

The ride was quiet at first. The streets were waking up — okada horns, hawkers yelling “pure water!”,“ hmm that smell of the morning“ I sighed

“You nervous?” she asked suddenly, eyes still on the road.

“About school? Not really.”

She smirked. “Liar.”

I leaned against the window. “You sound like you know everything.”

“I know Forest High.” She glanced at me. “And I know it’s not just another school.”

I wanted to ask what she meant, but before I could, we turned into a long, tree-lined driveway that looked like it belonged to a country club.

And then I saw it.

Forest High wasn’t a school.

It was a statement.

A massive glass-fronted building rose ahead, flanked by tall palms and trimmed hedges so perfect they looked fake. The driveway split into loops, each with shiny cars pulling in — SUVs, sedans, even one sleek convertible.

The gate guards wore uniforms nicer than some teachers I’d had.

Inside the compound, there was a football pitch with real grass — not that dusty, patchy stuff I grew up playing on. There was a basketball court with painted lines, a swimming pool that glimmered under the morning sun, and a courtyard buzzing with students in crisp uniforms.

For a second, I forgot to breathe.

“Still not nervous?” Vivian asked, pulling into the parking lot.

I didn’t answer.

She smirked again, like she’d been expecting that. “You’ll be fine. Or you won’t. Either way, you’ll learn fast.”

She grabbed her bag and got out, leaving me sitting there with my heart in my throat.

Inside the courtyard, I froze.

Mina.

At first, I thought my brain was playing tricks. But no. It was her. Same sharp eyes, same mischievous smirk — unmistakable.

“What are you… doing here?” I muttered under my breath, glancing at Vivian.

Vivian only gave me a quick look, like she already knew.

Mina waved. “Benjamin, is that you?”

I felt heat crawl up my neck. “I… uh… hey.”

Then it hit me: she went here. Of course she went here. Vivian and Mina attended the same school— why hadn’t I thought of that?

“Milaj!” I cursed under my breath. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me she was coming here too?!”

I remembered suddenly. Right. Milaj didn’t tell everyone. Only the chosen few knew about his sister. And Mina? She probably knew, but Milaj never thought to mention it to me. Classic Milaj.

Mina smirked like she knew exactly what I was thinking. “hope you're,” she said lightly.

“Yeah, well…” I tried to sound casual but failed miserably. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She shrugged. “Forest High isn’t exactly a secret.”

Mina volunteered, “I’ll show you where to register, Benjamin. Come on, follow me.”

As we walked, I kept glancing around, half expecting someone to laugh at me for looking so… average. But the students here were all… polished. Confident. And intimidating.

We arrived at a large office with a golden plaque that read: “Office of the Principal.”

“This is it,” Mina said. “Try not to embarrass yourself too badly.”

I squared my shoulders and entered. The office was huge — shelves of books, trophies, and awards, sunlight pouring in through tall windows. Behind a sleek desk sat a man whose presence made me automatically sit up straighter.

“Ah,” he said, looking up. “Benjamin Seun Area, welcome to Forest High.”

“Uh… thank you, sir.”

He extended a hand. I shook it. Firm, calm, like someone who didn’t need to prove anything.

“I’m Principal Adeola,” he said, smiling faintly. “Your first day can be overwhelming, but I expect you’ll manage.”

I nodded.

“By the way,” he continued, “Vivian is one of my daughter. She’s… exceptional. Not just academically or socially, but in everything she does. Her mother owned multiple companies before she passed, and together, they built this school. Both of her parents are gone, but their vision lives on — especially in Vivian.”

I blinked. Vivian’s mom? I’d heard rumors

Now hearing it officially, it hit me how much weight Vivian carried just by being her.

Principal Adeola leaned back. “You’re here to walk your own path, Benjamin. Learn fast, adapt faster. There will be challenges, opportunities… and yes, interesting people along the way.”

I left the office feeling both impressed and slightly crushed under the weight of it all. Mina shot me a grin. “See? Not so scary. And now you officially know why Vivian gets away with… everything.”

I laughed, nervously, trying not to stare too hard at Vivian as she casually passed by the courtyard on her way to class. She was… cool. Effortlessly. I couldn’t stop noticing it. The way she walked, how people just seemed to orbit around her without her trying. And the smile — not the teasing kind, but that calm, confident kind that made you forget you were even there.

After finishing with the principal, Mina guided me to my first class. And as we walked past the other classes, I instantly felt the weight of the room. As we entered the classroom I couldn't help but notice, the students were sharp, polished, rich — D-standard out among the upper echelon of this school.

The classroom was filled with students whose crisp uniforms and perfect posture screamed money and confidence. And right there, at the back, I saw them: Vivian and Mina. Both of them witnessing my awkward entrance.

Mina waved. Vivian just smirked.

Great. Just great.

The classroom was massive, with sunlight streaming through tall windows. Desks were arranged in neat rows, each one polished like it had never been sat on before. The students looked… different. Confident, composed, effortless. Definitely not my usual crowd.

I walked in, trying to look casual, but my sneakers squeaked against the shiny floor, and immediately, a few heads turned. Great. Nothing like announcing yourself as the new kid in the most obvious way possible.

I looked at Vivian, now she's sitting with perfect posture, one leg casually crossed over the other, reading something on her tablet like a goddess. Mina, closer to the middle, shot me a teasing smile.

I forced myself to focus on finding a desk. I settled near the front, hoping to blend in. Fail.

“Benjamin?” Mina whispered, leaning over from the desk. “Try not to trip over anyone on your way to the chair. Or yourself.”

I muttered a thanks, but my ears were picking up more than her voice. Vivian. Just hearing her name in my head made me glance up. She was now talking quietly to a friend, but there was something magnetic about her presence — even in the middle of a crowded classroom.

The teacher walked in — a tall man with glasses perched on the edge of his nose. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Mr. Ogundele, and welcome to Advanced Mathematics.” His eyes scanned the room, landing on me for a fraction of a second. “Ah, a new face. Benjamin, right? Welcome. Take a seat anywhere you like.”

I muttered a “thanks” and sank into my chair, trying not to draw attention. Mission failed, obviously. A couple of students were already whispering and glancing my way.

Mina leaned closer again. “So… you actually made it this far without fainting. I’m impressed.”

I scowled. “I haven’t even started yet.”

She grinned. “Just wait. You’ll learn quickly that ‘blending in’ is an art here — one you apparently don’t have.”

I glanced toward Vivian again. She was now looking straight at me, smirk playing on her lips, like she’d seen the whole disaster of my entrance. My face heated up. She was too composed. Too… unbothered. And yet, there was something about the way she carried herself — calm, confident, but not arrogant — that made me pay attention.

The first lesson started, and I tried to focus on the equations Mr. Ogundele scribbled on the board, but my eyes kept drifting back to Vivian. She raised her hand effortlessly, answering questions without a hint of hesitation, and the teacher nodded approvingly. Classmates listened when she spoke. And somehow, she made it look easy.

Mina noticed my glances. “Cute, huh?” she whispered, nudging my shoulder.

I groaned. “No. Stop saying that.”

She chuckled softly. “Relax. I’m just pointing out the obvious. You’re gonna need to get used to her.”

Get used to her? I barely even knew her. Yet, I could already feel that somehow, she was going to be… unforgettable.

By the end of first period, I realized something: I didn’t actually want to blend in.

I wanted to keep noticing Vivian — her calm, her confidence, even the way her brow furrowed when she was thinking hard about a problem. She wasn’t just popular. She was magnetic.

And that scared me.

When the bell rang, I packed my things, Mina still tossing teasing comments my way, and glanced back toward Vivian.

She caught my gaze. Smirked. Then winked — just slightly — before walking out, leaving me with that strange pull in my chest I couldn’t explain.

This was going to be a very interesting term.