The Last Semester Between Us

📖Chapter one The Worst Possible Partner . . . Amara almost didn’t hear her name when the lecturer called it. Her mind was already busy calculating numbers she didn’t want to think about. Fees. Deadline. Scholarship renewal requirements. One mistake this semester and everything would collapse. “Amara Nwosu.” She straightened immediately. “Yes, sir.” Professor Okoye adjusted his glasses and looked down at the printed list in his hand. “You’ll be working with Daniel Okafor.” For a second, the classroom went completely quiet inside her head. Not him. Anyone but him. Around her, chairs shifted. Someone muttered something that sounded suspiciously like interesting. A few students even turned to look between them. Of course they would. They always did. Amara kept her face carefully neutral as she turned slightly toward the back row where Daniel sat like he hadn’t just ruined her semester by existing. He didn’t look surprised. That annoyed her more. Professor Okoye continued speaking. “This research project carries thirty percent of your final grade.” Thirty percent. Her fingers tightened slowly around her pen. “And,” he added, “students currently on academic sponsorship should take this especially seriously.” Her stomach dropped. That was not a casual reminder. That was a warning. Because everyone in the department knew what that meant. Fail the project. Lose the scholarship. Lose school. Lose everything. She swallowed and forced herself to focus. “I expect original fieldwork,” Professor Okoye continued. “No recycled submissions. No shortcuts. No excuses.” Then he dismissed the class. Immediately, conversations exploded across the lecture hall. Amara stayed seated. She didn’t trust herself to stand yet. “Looks like we’re partners again.” His voice came from her left this time. Closer than she expected. Daniel. She turned slowly. He looked exactly the same as always—calm, composed, annoyingly confident like he had never once worried about anything serious in his life. “Again?” she repeated. His mouth tilted slightly. “You don’t remember?” Of course she remembered. Second year. Presentation day. One careless comment from him. One rumor afterward. One embarrassment she had never fully forgiven. “I remember enough,” she said. Before he could reply, another voice joined them. “Oh wow.” Ify. She stepped closer, smiling too brightly. “This is going to be interesting.” Amara ignored her. Ify didn’t ignore Amara. She looked between both of them like she had just discovered the most entertaining situation on campus. “You two working together again?” she asked lightly. “Professor Okoye really knows how to create drama.” “There’s no drama,” Amara said. Daniel didn’t respond. That silence said too much. Ify smiled wider. “Well,” she said, adjusting her bag strap, “try not to fight this time.” Then she walked away. Amara exhaled slowly. She hated that word. Fight. They hadn’t fought. He had embarrassed her. There was a difference. “We should start planning,” Daniel said. Straight to business. Like always. Like nothing had ever happened before. Like she hadn’t spent two years avoiding being paired with him again. “I don’t have a choice,” she replied quietly. His expression shifted slightly. Neither do I. He didn’t say it. But she heard it anyway. Amara picked up her notebook and stood. This project wasn’t just another assignment. It was her scholarship. Her future. And somehow— Daniel Okafor was standing directly in the middle of it again.