The girl I forgot

A CHANGE FOR NIA

My alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., and I swear I saw my soul float out of my body and flip me off on its way out. I groaned, shoved my face into my pillow, and waited for the sweet embrace of sleep to carry me away again. Instead, I got my elder brother Elijah bashing open my door like a SWAT team member.

“Niaaaaaa,” he sang in that annoyingly chipper voice that made me want to report him to the gods

“I have internal bleeding,” I muttered.

“From sleeping?”

“Exactly.”

He yanked my blanket off me like a criminal and ran out before I could throw my slipper at him. I cursed everything and rolled out of bed like a bag of rice.

As I got dressed in my school uniform — the one that made me look like a highlighter crossed with a librarian — I couldn’t help but think about yesterday. The library. Kai.

We’d actually talked. Like, for real talked.

Not just “so... biology?” or awkward laughs. We talked about painting, music, life, weird childhood fears (turns out Kai used to think mannequins came alive at night), and even dreams. I told him I wanted to make something beautiful with my life — even if I didn’t know what that was yet. He looked at me like I’d just handed him the last piece of a puzzle. And I swear — swear — there was a moment. A real one.

But of course, I didn’t sleep all night because of it. My brain wouldn’t shut up. It kept replaying everything — his voice, his laugh, the way he leaned closer when he was interested, the way he didn’t flinch when I went off on a dramatic rant about acrylic paint drying too fast.

I was a mess.

In the car, Elijah and Jeremiah argued about some football match, while I sat between them like a peace offering no one asked for. My eyes were half-closed, but my heart was lowkey racing. I couldn’t decide what I was more anxious about — facing Kai after such an intense conversation, or facing Rivy, who would absolutely pry the details out of me like a seasoned detective.

Spoiler alert: it was both.

By the time I stepped into school, I was semi-functioning. I saw Rivy and Michael laughing under the big tree near the parking lot. She looked up, saw me, and waved with her whole soul. The kind of wave that meant, “I’m going to ask about EVERYTHING.”

I sighed.

“Niaaaaa!” she sang as she jogged over, Michael following behind her like a loyal puppy. “How was your night? Dream of anyone with pretty eyes and soft hair?”

“Rivy.”

“Yes?”

“Behave.”

She grinned. “Never.”

During break, we all sat together — Rivy, Michael, Kai, his friends Asher, Damon, Zuri and Natasha and another guy I hadn’t really talked to before named Malik.

There was also the new boy — Nathan. He smiled at me again today, that soft, calm kind of smile like he knew something I didn’t. I smiled back politely and quickly turned my attention to my meat pie before Rivy gave me a look.

Kai was quieter today, but I caught him glancing at me more than once. And every time, my stomach decided to audition for gymnastics.

“So,” Asher said, breaking the silence. “You guys met at the library yesterday, right?”

Rivy's eyebrows shot up.

Kai didn’t even look flustered. “Yeah. Nia’s a secret painting genius.”

I choked on my drink.

Rivy looked like she was going to burst into flames. “YOU PAINTED? He saw your stuff???”

Kai laughed. “It was really good. Abstract. But deep.”

“Why would you— how did— I didn’t even—” I blinked. “Okay I need new friends.”

Everyone laughed. And for a second, the air felt lighter. Like I belonged here.

Like I wasn’t just the girl who forgot who she was every time Kai smiled.

Later that day, Rivy dragged me to the back of the class and slammed both hands on my desk like she was confronting a criminal.

“Explain. Everything.”

I blinked at her, deadpan. “About what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Nia. You painted in front of Kai. He saw your work. He complimented it. He called it ‘deep.’ What kind of w*****d plot are you living in and why didn’t you send me the link?”

I laughed, dropping my face into my hands. “Rivy, it wasn’t that deep. We just talked, and he stumbled across my painting. I didn’t plan it.” I lied

She gave me that squint. “But did you enjoy it?”

I looked up, bit my bottom lip, and nodded. “Yeah. A lot.”

Her expression softened instantly. “Aw, babe.”

Then she gasped. “Wait. Are you falling harder?”

I groaned and banged my forehead on the desk. “Shut up.”

She giggled like the gremlin she is. “Okay, okay. I’ll give you a break. But just know I’ve already planned your wedding. The colour scheme is lavender and gold.”

The last period dragged like a bad Nigerian movie with 7 parts. Our Literature teacher was talking about Things Fall Apart with the passion of someone who’d actually watched the world fall apart. I kept glancing sideways at Kai, who was sitting right beside me

He was doodling in his notebook.

I couldn’t help but lean a little to peek — it was a sketch of a sneaker with wild flame designs. I smiled.

He caught me staring.

Instead of being awkward about it, he turned the book toward me with a lazy grin, like “You like it?”

I gave a tiny thumbs up, trying not to combust.

He scribbled something at the bottom of the page and subtly tore it out. A minute later, he passed the folded paper to me like it was a note in primary school.

I opened it under the desk.

“Wanna stay back after school? I want to show you something.”

— Kai

After the last bell rang, I pretended to fumble with my bag until Rivy and Michael left for the gate.

Kai met me near the science block, that same quiet look in his eyes. Not shy, not smug — just calm.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing for me to follow.

We walked side by side down the corridor in silence, until he stopped near the art room. But instead of going inside, he turned and climbed the stairs to the old, abandoned floor that no one used anymore.

The top floor smelled like chalk and forgotten dreams.

There was a dusty room at the end with broken desks and old art supplies. And in the middle — a wooden easel and a wide canvas, blank.

“I remembered you said painting helps you breathe,” he said. “So... I thought maybe you’d want to do it here. No one comes up here.”

I stared at him.

Then the easel.

Then back at him.

“You remembered that?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I remember a lot of things you say.”

Silence.

The kind that buzzed.

The kind that made my chest feel like it was growing wings.

I walked to the easel slowly, touched the corner of the canvas. “You did this... for me?”

He shrugged, but his ears were pink. “I guess.”

I turned back around, blinking furiously. “Kai?”

“Yeah?”

I paused. Then: “You’re gonna ruin me.”

He laughed. “Too late.”

We didn’t say much for a while.

I picked up a brush. He sat nearby, watching.

Soft music drifted from his phone — some instrumental lo-fi thing. The kind of music that sounded like dreams melting in the sun.

As I painted — something abstract again, swirls of blue, bursts of white, a shadowy gold undercurrent — I felt... light. Like I was floating above everything. Above school stress, family expectations, even my own insecurities.

Kai didn’t interrupt. Didn’t hover. He just watched.

Until finally he asked, “Do you ever feel like you’re too much for the world?”

I paused, mid-stroke. “All the time.”

He looked away. “Same.”

We didn’t say anything else.

But it was enough.

By the time we climbed down from the abandoned floor, the sky had gone soft orange. The breeze smelled like dust and rain.

We walked together to the gate.

And just before we parted, he said, “Thanks for trusting me.”

I nodded. “Thanks for not making me feel weird.”

He smiled. “You’re not weird. You’re... Nia.”

I blinked. “Is that supposed to make sense?”

He grinned. “It does. To me.”

The car ride home was a blur. Elijah was playing some loud af rap song that made the whole car vibrate, and Jeremiah kept arguing about why one musician I couldn't remember the name was overrated. I just stared out the window, arms folded, paint still faintly on my fingertips.

I wasn’t even mad they didn’t notice.

My brain was still upstairs. In that dusty classroom. With Kai.

His words echoed like some invisible playlist:

“You’re not weird. You’re Nia.”

What did that even mean?

I mean, I was flattered. I was blushing internally. I wanted to paint those words on my ceiling. But still — what did it mean?

Boys like Kai didn’t just notice girls like me. Not in this way. Not in the you’re the kind of quiet that feels like peace way.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out the folded paper he’d given me earlier. I don’t know why I kept it. Maybe because it felt like proof that it happened. That we happened. That it wasn’t just my imagination, spinning little love stories from ordinary conversations.

When I got home, I ran straight to my room and collapsed on my bed like a Victorian ghost bride.

And then my phone buzzed.

Kai [4:39 PM]:

You okay?

My heart actually did a front flip.

Me [4:40 PM]:

Yeah. Still thinking about everything.

Kai [4:41 PM]:

Same. Today felt... important.

I stared at the screen.

Then typed:

Me:

It was.

Ten minutes later, Rivy’s name lit up on my screen. I answered, flopping on my bed dramatically.

“Spill it,” she said, skipping hello like always.

I groaned. “It was just... ugh. It was everything.”

“Define ‘ugh.’ Romantic ugh? Life-changing ugh? I’m-about-to-self-destruct ugh?”

I laughed. “All of the above.”

She gasped. “Oh my God. Are you in love?”

I kicked the air. “I don’t know, Rivs! I don’t even know what this is. He brought me to a secret floor with an easel. An actual EASEL.”

“Bro,” she whispered. “That’s like... the YA version of a proposal.”

I snorted. “Can you be serious for once?”

“No. That’s your job.”

We talked for another hour. Mostly me rambling. Mostly her gasping. At some point she paused and said, “You’re glowing, by the way. Like through the phone. Glowing.”

At dinner, my parents noticed too.

Mum squinted at me. “You’re smiling like you won a scholarship.”

Dad added, “Or like you just beat someone in chess.”

Elijah muttered, “Or like someone finally talked to you without getting roasted.”

I threw a spoon at him.

He dodged it expertly and grinned. “It’s Kai, isn’t it?”

Jeremiah gasped. “The long time crush boy?”

“I hate this family,” I muttered.

My mum raised a brow. “Is he a good boy?”

I shrugged, cheeks hot. “He’s... not bad.”

They all went ooohhh. I wanted the ground to swallow me.

Later that night, I wrote in my brain dump notebook:

Today, I didn’t feel like a ghost girl.

I felt like I mattered. Like someone saw me and didn’t look away.

And that feeling... it’s terrifying. But also kind of beautiful.

— Nia

The next day at school, everything felt brighter. Like someone had increased the saturation on life.

Until Nathan walked up to me at the lockers with that same soft smile and said, “Hey, Nia. Do you wanna grab ice cream after school today?”

My brain short-circuited.

“Uh... sorry?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just thought... you’re cool. And I like talking to you. So I figured—”

“Nathan” I said, heart thumping. “You’re nice. Really. But I don't think I want that.”

His smile faltered for a second. But then he nodded.

“No worries,” he said. “Still cool?”

I smiled. “Definitely.”

He walked away like a pro. No drama. No weirdness.

And yet — the moment didn’t sit easily in my chest. I wasn’t used to turning people down. I wasn’t used to being noticed, period.

And now here I was — the girl who used to sit in corners — turning boys down like I had options or something.

Who even was I?

At lunch, Rivy and Michael were full-on couple-ing again. Feeding each other plantain and arguing about who said “I love you” first. I sat across from them, poking at my food and feeling weird.

Kai came and sat beside me, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said, quiet.

“You okay?”

I nodded. “Just... thinking.”

He didn’t push.

We just sat there, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, breathing in the same space.

After a moment, he said, “Want to go paint after school again?”

I smiled softly. “Yeah. I’d love that.”