Episode 3: Mixed Signals
1036 Words
Amara didn’t believe in signs.
She believed in patterns.
And lately—
Something wasn’t adding up.
It started small.
Too small for anyone else to notice.
But Amara noticed everything.
“Daniel said we should meet in the library today,” Kemi said, adjusting her bag as they walked down the corridor.
Amara nodded. “Fine.”
Tolu smirked. “See as una dey plan meeting like married couple.”
“No one is married,” Amara replied flatly.
But her tone lacked its usual edge.
Because somewhere along the line—
Things had shifted.
At first, it was just the project.
Discussions.
Exchanging notes.
Short conversations.
But then—
It became something else.
“Your analysis is… different.”
Daniel’s voice from the previous day echoed in her mind.
Amara had looked up from her notebook. “Different how?”
“You don’t just explain things,” he said. “You… protect yourself through them.”
She frowned slightly. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does.”
That was all he said.
No long explanation.
No pressure.
Just that quiet observation that somehow felt too accurate.
And that was the problem.
Now, sitting in the library, Amara watched as Kemi laughed softly at something Daniel said.
She didn’t even hear the joke.
But she saw it.
The ease.
The softness in Kemi’s expression.
And Daniel—
He smiled.
Not wide.
Not loud.
Just enough.
But it was there.
Amara looked back at her book.
Her chest felt… tight.
Annoying.
Unnecessary.
She shifted in her seat.
“You’re not writing,” Daniel said suddenly.
She looked up. “I am.”
“You’ve been on the same page for five minutes.”
Kemi glanced between them.
Tolu, who had come “just to observe,” raised an eyebrow.
Amara closed her book slightly. “I’m thinking.”
“About the project?”
“Yes.”
He studied her for a moment.
Then nodded.
But his attention didn’t stay.
It drifted.
Back to Kemi.
And this time—
Amara noticed.
“Wait,” Kemi said, flipping through her notes. “I think the conclusion should reflect emotional growth, not just vulnerability.”
Daniel leaned closer to see. “That makes sense.”
Their shoulders almost touched.
Amara’s grip tightened on her pen.
Irritating.
That’s what it was.
Nothing more.
“You’re pressing that pen like it offended you,” Tolu whispered beside her.
Amara didn’t respond.
“You sure you’re okay?” Tolu added, quieter this time.
“I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t.
And she didn’t understand why.
Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.
She wasn’t supposed to feel anything.
Especially not this.
Later that evening, as they packed up to leave, Daniel spoke again.
“Amara.”
She paused.
“Yes?”
“You work well alone.”
She blinked slightly. “I know.”
“But you don’t have to.”
Her chest shifted again.
That same unfamiliar feeling.
She didn’t like it.
“I prefer it that way.”
He nodded.
And then—
He smiled slightly.
But not at her.
At Kemi.
“See you tomorrow,” he said.
That was it.
Small.
Simple.
But somehow—
It felt like something had just been decided.
Without her.
“Amara…” Tolu’s voice was softer now as they walked home.
She didn’t respond immediately.
“You like him.”
It wasn’t a question.
Amara stopped walking.
Turned slowly.
“No.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“Then what is it?”
Amara opened her mouth—
Then closed it.
Because for once—
She didn’t have an answer.
“I just…” she started, then stopped again.
Tolu waited.
Amara exhaled.
“I just don’t like distractions.”
Tolu looked at her for a long second.
Then shook her head slightly.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
That night, Amara couldn’t focus.
Her notes were incomplete.
Her thoughts were scattered.
And worst of all—
Her rules felt… distant.
Don’t fall in love.
Too late?
No.
Impossible.
The next day made it worse.
“Amara, you’re a good person.”
Daniel’s voice again.
This time, after class.
Just the two of them.
She frowned slightly. “What kind of statement is that?”
“A normal one.”
“No, it’s not.”
He exhaled lightly, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“You’re strong. You think clearly. You don’t let emotions control you.”
She tilted her head slightly.
Waiting.
Then he said it.
The one thing she didn’t expect.
“And I think… you should stay that way.”
Silence.
Amara felt it instantly.
That drop.
That quiet, sinking feeling in her chest.
“What do you mean?” she asked, though she already knew.
He looked at her.
Calm.
Honest.
“I don’t think you’re the kind of person who should get involved in… this kind of thing.”
“This kind of thing.”
She almost laughed.
“You mean love?”
He didn’t respond immediately.
Then—
“Yes.”
Something cracked.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just… quietly.
“And you decided that for me?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I’m just saying… you deserve something that won’t disrupt you.”
“And you’re that disruption?”
A pause.
Then—
“I could be.”
There it was.
Not rejection.
Not exactly.
But close enough.
Amara looked away first.
“Don’t worry,” she said, her voice steady again. Controlled. Familiar. “I wasn’t interested.”
A lie.
Clean.
Sharp.
Perfect.
Daniel nodded slowly.
Like he understood more than she said.
“Okay.”
Later that day, from across the field—
Amara saw it.
Kemi and Daniel.
Walking.
Talking.
Easy.
Natural.
And for the first time—
Amara felt something she couldn’t analyze.
Couldn’t control.
Couldn’t suppress fast enough.
Jealousy.
She scoffed quietly.
Shaking her head.
Love is a weakness.
She had said it herself.
But now—
She was the one feeling weak.
And the worst part?
She had no idea how to fight something she never planned to feel.
- Writer
