The Bad Boy’s Final Year Crush

Chapter 1: I Didn’t Come Here to Love I didn’t come to school to fall in love. I came to graduate with first class and leave this campus drama for people who had time to waste. University of Abuja was supposed to be simple. Books, lectures, exams. Not boys, not parties, not trouble. My mum said it herself the day she dropped me off at the hostel gate. She held my face and said, “Amina, your only boyfriend here should be your books.” I believed her. I planned to be invisible. So why was my heart beating fast when Zion Adeleke walked into my 8am lecture and sat right behind me? Zion Adeleke. The name alone made girls whisper. He was the guy who got suspended last semester for racing his car in the school parking lot. He was the guy who never took notes, but somehow passed every test. He was trouble, and everyone knew it. He smelled like expensive cologne, late nights, and something dangerous. His white shirt was slightly wrinkled, his hair was not brushed, and yet half the girls in the hall turned to look when he passed. Zion didn’t look at anyone. He just looked at me. I kept my eyes on my notebook. I wrote fake notes just to keep my hands busy. My pen felt heavy. But I could still feel him behind me. The sound of his pen clicking. The way his chair creaked when he shifted closer. Like he was testing how much space I would give him. My roommate, Tolu, told me yesterday night, “It’s just Zion, Amina. Ignore him. He talks to every new girl in 100 level.” Easy for her to say. Tolu has a boyfriend in 300 level who brings her meat pie every Friday. She doesn’t know what it feels like when the most dangerous guy on campus decides you are different. The lecture hall was full, but it felt quiet. Too quiet. My handwriting got shaky. “First class, huh?” His voice was low. Just for me. Not loud enough for the lecturer to hear. “That’s cute.” I didn’t answer. If I turned around, I’d lose. And I wasn’t about to lose to Zion Adeleke on day one. I was Amina Yusuf. I had a plan. But my heart didn’t get the memo. It was beating fast, like we were running a race I didn’t agree to join. Like he had already won something and I didn’t know what it was. I stared at the whiteboard. I copied the same equation three times and didn’t notice. The worst part came two minutes later. He leaned forward, just enough that his breath brushed my ear, and whispered, “You’re the only girl here who doesn’t stare at me. I like that.” My pen stopped moving. The lecturer started talking. Everyone opened their books. But I couldn’t hear a word. My ears were ringing. Because Zion Adeleke had just made 8am lectures dangerous. And I was not ready for him.