From Me, With Her Name

Chapter One: When We Were Seven Age 7 – Lagos, Nigeria – 2005 The sun began to dip below the rooftops of their quiet Lagos neighborhood, casting a golden glow over the streets. Somewhere in the distance, children’s laughter echoed, followed by the dull thud of a football hitting a wall. The late afternoon air smelled like earth and roasted corn, the kind sold in smoky roadside stalls that lined the street corners. But Vanessa didn’t care for the games or the food today. She was on the front porch of her house, seated cross-legged on a plastic mat with a pencil in one hand and Tina’s math homework in the other. Tina sat next to her, swaying her legs lazily and flipping through a pink-colored True Love magazine her older cousin had left behind. “You’re the best, Vee,” Tina chirped without looking up. “I don’t know how you understand all these math riddles. I swear numbers hate me.” Vanessa smiled faintly and shrugged. “It’s not hard if you think about it like a puzzle.” Tina groaned. “Exactly why I leave it to you. You like puzzles.” It wasn’t the first time Vanessa had done Tina’s homework. It had become a quiet, unspoken arrangement between them. Vanessa was the quiet, brainy one. Tina, the sparkly, pretty one everyone noticed. And Jeremy, well, Jeremy was the boy they both knew, but only one of them dreamed about. From the very beginning, Vanessa had known she was the background character in her own story. Tina was the one who wore glittery sandals and talked back to teachers with a smile that got her out of trouble. Vanessa was the one with patched-up uniforms and glasses too big for her small face, her hair always packed into neat cornrows by her mother every Sunday night. But Jeremy noticed Tina. He always had. Jeremy lived two houses down. He was adventurous, with dusty sneakers and knees always scabbed from running into trouble. His laugh was loud and contagious, his energy a magnet that drew kids toward him. Vanessa liked the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about cartoons, or how he stuck up for the smaller kids when they were bullied. She liked him in a quiet, secret kind of way, a way she never dared to say out loud. Jeremy, Tina, and Vanessa had been inseparable since they were five. But even then, Vanessa knew she came third in that trio. Jeremy brought Tina sweets from his mom’s shop. He always passed the ball to her first during football. He even gave her a plastic ring from a bubble gum wrapper once, and Vanessa remembered the way her heart twisted when Tina tossed it aside like it meant nothing. “Guess what!” Jeremy’s voice rang out suddenly, interrupting Vanessa’s thoughts. He was running toward them, full of energy as always, waving a white envelope in one hand and his backpack swinging wildly from the other. He stopped in front of them, panting and grinning. “My dad got the job! We’re moving to America next week!” Tina’s eyes widened. “America? You’re joking.” Jeremy beamed. “Nope! We’re packing already. My aunt lives in New York. We’ll be staying there.” Tina sat up straighter, suddenly more interested. “That’s so cool. Will you come back?” “Maybe,” Jeremy shrugged. “But I’ll write you, I promise. I’ll send emails.” Vanessa felt the air freeze around her. Her pencil paused mid-word. Jeremy was leaving? Just like that? “I don’t have a computer,” Tina said, frowning. “How will I check email?” “You can use ours,” Vanessa said before she could stop herself. “My dad lets me check mail on Saturdays. You can come over.” Jeremy turned to her and smiled. “Perfect. I’ll send it to your email, Vanessa. You tell Tina when I write, okay?” Vanessa nodded slowly, her heart pounding. “Okay.” He grinned. “Deal.” That was the last weekend they spent together. By Monday, Jeremy was gone. The first email came three weeks later. Vanessa remembered it clearly: it was a Saturday morning, the house was quiet, and her father had just finished checking his stock prices before letting her use the computer. She logged into the inbox, and there it was: Subject: “Hey from America!” From: jeremy.okafor@aol.com She called Tina immediately. “There’s mail from Jeremy!” she said excitedly. Tina yawned on the other end of the line. “Already? What does he say?” Vanessa opened it. It was a long message. Jeremy talked about the cold weather, how different the streets looked, how much he missed jollof rice, and how no one played soccer in his school. He had attached a photo of himself in front of a yellow school bus, holding up a thumbs-up. Vanessa smiled. “Ugh,” Tina said. “He’s still talking about cartoons and beans? So boring.” “You don’t want to reply?” Vanessa asked, heart sinking a little. “You can if you want. Just make it sound like me.” Vanessa stared at the screen. The blinking cursor waited. And she began to type. She responded to Jeremy’s email. Not as herself, but as Tina. She asked him about school. Told him “she” missed him too. She even threw in a joke about how boring Lagos had gotten without him. But what she wrote about was her day, her thoughts, her voice hidden behind Tina’s name. That was the beginning. One message turned into ten. Ten turned into fifty. Then hundreds. Vanessa wrote to Jeremy for twenty years. She knew what made him laugh, what made him angry, what scared him, and what he dreamed of. She knew the names of his college friends, his first heartbreak, the job he hated, and the dog he adopted during lockdown. She watched him grow from a playful boy into a man with kind eyes and thoughtful words, all through a screen. And every time he replied, his emails started with: “Hey Tina…” He never knew. He never suspected. Tina had long forgotten about the exchange. As they got older, she barely remembered Jeremy at all, only vaguely acknowledging him when Vanessa brought him up. But Vanessa never stopped writing. It was her only connection to the boy she once loved, now the man she still held in her heart. And then, one Thursday evening, her phone buzzed with a message that made her world tilt. Jeremy Okafor: “Guess what? I’m visiting London for two weeks this August. We should finally meet. I’d love to see you, Tina.” Vanessa’s fingers trembled. She hadn’t prepared for this. He was coming back. And he still believed it was Tina.