Shimmer Between Us (Rebirth)

Chapter 5 : Gist, Popcorn and Late-Night pings

The second I walked into the hostel room, I was ambushed.

“Zoraaaa!”

Clara and Becky jumped up from the bed like I was a celebrity returning from a world tour. Clara rushed to grab the nylon from my hand while Becky clapped as though Beyoncé herself had just graced the room.

“Wait first!” I laughed, my eyes darting between their wide grins. “What’s going on?”

Becky, unable to contain herself, pointed dramatically at my bed. I followed her finger and almost fell over. My bed was perfectly made, sheets tucked in like it was a hotel. My two throw pillows had been fluffed so much they looked ready for an advertisement, and in the middle of the mattress sat a tray of popcorn, biscuits, and two chilled bottled drinks.

“You people planned a party or what?” I raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not a party,” Clara said, eyes glimmering with mischief. “It’s the Gist Reception Lounge. For one person only.”

Becky clapped again. “Madam, sit down and give us the full gist abeg!”

I held my stomach and laughed so hard my eyes watered. “You girls are not well.”

Meanwhile, Tina had already dragged her duvet to the floor, sitting cross-legged like a village elder about to preside over a council meeting. She was armed with chin-resting-on-fist and expectant eyes.

I shook my head. Resistance was useless.

After a quick bath and a change into my oversized tee and shorts, I curled up on the bed, popcorn bowl in hand, like some reluctant guest at my own party.

They stared at me as if I was a TV screen that had just come alive.

“Okay,” Clara said, smacking her lips. “From the top.”

So, I began.

How I met him again at the field. How he’d asked me to join him for lunch. The way he carried himself at the restaurant, calm and confident. The effortless way he ordered food, like he’d done it a thousand times. The short phone call he took—businesslike, focused, almost too serious. Then the part where he asked for my number with that smile. That unfair smile.

I didn’t even exaggerate. The truth was dramatic enough.

Their reactions, though? Ten times more dramatic.

Becky gasped and clutched her chest like she was watching a Nollywood trailer. Clara screamed into a pillow, rolling on the bed. Tina, quiet but dangerous, kept smirking and saying, “Hmm. Interesting. Very interesting.”

At one point, Clara slapped my leg. “Zora! This your love story go sweet o!”

I threw a pillow back at her. “Calm down! Nobody said anything about love yet.”

“Yet,” Tina echoed ominously.

Becky, already on her laptop, raised her brows without looking up. “So you’re saying you don’t like him?”

“I didn’t say that either,” I muttered, grinning despite myself. “I’m just… checking him out.”

“Ohhhh,” they chorused like a choir. “She’s checking him out!”

The gist session lasted until the popcorn was gone, the drinks were finished, and Clara had laughed herself into sleepiness. Eventually, Becky surrendered to her unfinished assignment, Clara curled up under her blanket still giggling in her sleep, and Tina wrapped herself like a burrito, muttering something about “mystery boys and future heartbreak.”

The room finally quieted, except for the faint buzzing of someone’s fan two doors down and the occasional honk of a passing keke outside.

I plugged in my earphones and scrolled through my K-drama series. The blue light from my phone painted faint shadows across the room. Comforting, familiar.

Then my phone buzzed.

A message.

I didn’t need to check the name to know who.

Him.

📩 Made it back safe, I hope?

I smiled, biting my lip. I wasn’t expecting him to text tonight. But I wasn’t mad at it.

📨 Yes. You?

A minute later:

📩 I’m good. Still thinking about that laugh of yours. It’s… dangerous.

I covered my face with a pillow. Dangerous ke? Who talks like that?

📨 Don’t start.

📩 Just being honest. You know, there’s something refreshing about you, Zora. Like you’re not trying too hard to impress anyone.

My fingers hovered above the keyboard. Something in my chest stirred, uneasy and warm at the same time.

📨 Maybe I’m just tired of people who expect me to be something I’m not.

His reply came almost immediately, like he’d been waiting.

📩 Then keep being this version. It’s the one I like.

I froze. Stared at the screen. Re-read it three times.

He liked this version of me? The ordinary Zora with messy hair and oversized T-shirts, who sometimes couldn’t even string two sentences without overthinking?

I didn’t know what to reply. So I didn’t.

Another ping.

📩 Goodnight, Zora.

My chest tightened.

📨 Goodnight… I typed, then hesitated. After a second’s battle, I added: Mr. Final Year.

A pause. Then his reply:

📩 Touché.

I smiled into my pillow, heat flooding my cheeks.

I locked my phone and lay back, but my heart was doing that annoying thing again—pounding, fluttering, unsure of what it was feeling but feeling everything anyway.

I closed my eyes, but all I saw was his smile. The way he said my name. The way the night suddenly felt lighter because somewhere, someone like him had thought of me enough to text first.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But it was happening anyway.

💫💫💫💫💫

Kamari’s POV : "Zora"

I sat in the car long after I dropped her off, the engine humming low like it was waiting for me to make up my mind. My hand was still on the wheel, but my head wasn’t here. It was back there..with her.

Her name rolled around in my mind. Zora.

She said it so softly when she introduced herself, like the name wasn’t meant to be carried loudly, like it was a secret she only offered when she trusted you enough. The way it left her lips

gentle, unassuming, made it echo inside me longer than it should have.

She wasn’t like the girls I usually met.

She wasn’t loud. She didn’t wear confidence like armor. She didn’t look at me like she was calculating what being with Kamari Donalds could give her.

Zora just… existed. Real. Unpolished. Untouched by the games I was used to.

At the restaurant, I kept watching her in the corner of my eye. She tried to hide her nerves, but it was there, in the way her fingers tapped against her drink, the way she adjusted her sleeves, like she was reminding herself to take up less space. But when she smiled, when that laugh slipped out God..it was like the whole place leaned in to listen.

And I realized I didn’t care about anyone else in that room.

The call from the office came in halfway through lunch. Business. Always business. My father’s voice at the back of my mind, reminding me that Domino Core never sleeps, that deals don’t wait for boys distracted by pretty faces. So I picked it up. I listened. I answered. I said all the right things.

But I wasn’t really there.

All I could think about was Zora. Wondering if she felt out of place sitting across from me. Wondering if she thought this was a mistake. Wondering why it suddenly mattered so damn much that she didn’t regret coming.

I should’ve let it end there. A simple lunch. A harmless meeting. Walk away, Kamari. Don’t complicate your life.

But the second I dropped her off and watched her walk away, I knew I wouldn’t let it end.

I unlocked my phone before I could stop myself.

The words came out almost too easily:

Still thinking about that laugh of yours.

Reckless. I almost regretted it until her reply came in.

It wasn’t dressed up. It wasn’t delayed for effect. It wasn’t some flirty emoji or calculated line.

It was her.

Simple. Honest. Effortless.

And it hit me harder than I wanted to admit.

Now here I am, in my room lights dimmed, phone still in my hand, staring at her name on the screen like some lovesick i***t.

What is it about her?

Maybe it’s the way she doesn’t seem to know her own effect. Maybe it’s the way she doesn’t chase the spotlight, but still pulls me toward her without trying. Or maybe it’s just that for the first time in a long time,someone saw me, not the name, not the money, not the reputation.

Just me.

And I liked it more than I should.

I ran a hand over my face and leaned back against the couch. My father would laugh if he saw me like this. Mr. Donalds would say, Focus on what matters, Kamari. Feelings don’t build empires. Discipline does.

But tonight, I didn’t care about empires. I didn’t care about discipline.

All I cared about was that girl with the quiet smile and dangerous laugh.

Zora.

And I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I reached for her.