My Mummy's Warning About Valentine

Chapter Three – Friends, Pressure & Red Flags

The campus was buzzing like a living, breathing organism, each student a part of the chaos that Valentine’s week brought. Everywhere I turned, red and pink decorations adorned notice boards, dorms, and even the cafeteria tables. Students walked around carrying balloons, bouquets, and little gifts wrapped in shiny paper. It was as though the entire university had decided to transform itself into a scene straight out of a romantic movie.

And yet, amidst the excitement, a quiet unease began to creep in.

It started small. Whispers in the corridors. Sidelong glances from classmates. A few casual questions that seemed harmless at first but lingered in my mind long after they were asked.

“Tobi? Seen with two girls on Valentine night?”

“Did you hear about the hotel thing?”

“She’s probably overreacting…”

At first, I tried to ignore it all. I told myself I was imagining things, that people just talked about everyone. But each whisper, each stare, chipped away at my confidence. I felt my heart tightening whenever Tobi was mentioned.

My roommate, Amaka, noticed my growing distraction almost immediately. “You’re not going to ignore this, are you?” she asked one afternoon, folding her arms as we sat on our dorm floor surrounded by scattered books and half-eaten snacks.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound casual. But my voice betrayed me. My hands were shaking slightly as I held my notebook, pretending to write notes while listening to her.

“No, you’re not,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I saw the way you looked at him yesterday. That smile… it wasn’t casual. You’re falling for him. Admit it.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Maybe,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Amaka shook her head. “Listen. I know you. You get carried away. Valentine’s week comes, and you’ll be crying over chocolates, flowers, and maybe a guy who isn’t worth it. I’m telling you now, before it’s too late.”

I tried to laugh, but the humor felt hollow. Part of me knew she was right. I liked him. More than I probably should. And yet, every time he smiled, every time he teased, I felt my defenses crumble.

The red flags were subtle at first, easy to ignore if I chose to. He was protective of his phone, sometimes distant, occasionally distracted by whispers with people I didn’t know. But whenever I confronted the thought, I convinced myself it was nothing — he was just popular, busy, and social.

And yet… there was a nagging voice in my mind, a quiet warning I couldn’t shake.

One afternoon, while walking past the student center, I saw him speaking with a girl I didn’t recognize. They laughed together, close enough that their shoulders brushed. My stomach churned with a strange mixture of jealousy and fear.

Amaka caught my reaction before I could hide it. “There it is,” she whispered. “See? This is what I mean. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. There’s something off.”

“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, turning away. “Maybe she’s just a friend.”

Amaka didn’t buy it. She leaned closer. “Just a friend? Maybe. But trust your instincts. That feeling in your gut? That’s your warning. Don’t ignore it.”

I swallowed, knowing she was right, but unwilling to confront the truth fully.

By midweek, the campus was alive with anticipation. Clubs held Valentine’s-themed events. Music floated from the courtyard, blending with laughter, chatter, and occasional declarations of love. I couldn’t escape it. Every corner reminded me of the approaching day, every poster seemed to taunt me with its promise of romance and heartbreak.

Tobi, of course, remained calm. Composed. Smiling in a way that suggested he knew more than he was letting on. He approached me one afternoon as I studied under the old oak tree near the library, carrying a small notebook and a bottle of water.

“Hey,” he said casually, sitting beside me without asking.

“Hi,” I replied, trying to sound normal, but my heartbeat betrayed me.

“You seem… distracted,” he noted, watching me with those observant eyes.

“I’m just studying,” I said, though I knew it was a half-truth.

He smiled. “Studying or thinking about me?”

My heart skipped. I felt my cheeks burn, but I refused to respond. Instead, I focused on my notebook, pretending to take notes.

“Don’t lie,” he teased softly. “I can tell.”

I groaned inwardly. There was no escaping his gaze. Every time he looked at me like that, I felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely safe.

That evening, back in the dorm, I poured my feelings into my journal. Writing helped me sort the mess of emotions — excitement, fear, longing, and unease. I wrote about the girl I had seen him with, the whispers of gossip, and my growing fear that I was ignoring signs I shouldn’t.

Amaka sat across from me, organizing her own notes but keeping an eye on me. “You need to set boundaries,” she said suddenly. “You can’t just let him walk over you emotionally. Pay attention. Look at the red flags. You’ll thank me later.”

“I know,” I admitted. “But I… I can’t stop thinking about him. Even when I try.”

“That’s the problem,” she said, her tone firm. “Love isn’t just about butterflies in your stomach. Sometimes it’s about protecting yourself, making choices that matter. Don’t let the excitement blind you.”

Over the next two days, the tension built. Each interaction with Tobi was loaded with silent questions. Was he serious? Was he trustworthy? Did he have ulterior motives? And yet, every time he smiled, every small gesture, I felt my heart tethered to him in ways that scared me.

On the morning of Valentine’s Eve, the campus was a riot of red and pink. Posters promised love and surprise parties. Students exchanged gifts openly in corridors. Every couple seemed perfectly staged, as if the entire university were part of a romantic play.

And yet, amidst the chaos, I felt a creeping sense of dread.

I had seen the warning signs, heard my mummy’s words, listened to Amaka’s advice — yet I had allowed myself to be carried away. My heart had made its choice before my mind could catch up.

That night, I sat by my window in the dorm, watching the city lights flicker and shimmer. I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts kept returning to him — Tobi — the boy whose calm confidence had captured my attention, whose smile had captured my heart.

And I couldn’t shake the feeling that Valentine would be more than just a day of chocolate and flowers. Somehow, I knew it would be a turning point.

A night that would change everything.