Faking With You.

TOO FAR.

I remembered her.

I remembered everything.

The oversized school uniform.

The stubborn chin.

The way she used to glare at me whenever I took something from her.

Aisha Bello.

The girl from Surulere.

The girl I’d spent half my childhood annoying simply because I could.

And now she was here.

At Crownbridge.

In my class.

I should have left her alone.

Instead, I took her seat.

She stopped beside the desk the next morning.

“Move.”

I looked up.

“Good morning to you too.”

“That’s my seat.”

I glanced at the empty chair beside her.

“You survived.”

She stared at me.

Then she picked up her bag and walked away.

I smiled.

That was interesting.

The next day, I took her pen.

She reached for it.

I held it out of reach.

“You need to ask.”

“Give it back.”

“Please.”

“Ethan.”

I froze.

She had said my name.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I remembered.”

The smile disappeared from my face.

“So did I.”

She snatched the pen from my hand.

“Good.”

Then she walked away.

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Something about getting a reaction from her had become addictive.

I would tap her desk during lectures until she turned around.

I would move her notebook whenever she left it unattended.

Once, I passed her in the hallway and said, “Careful. The floors are wet.”

She stopped.

I grinned.

She didn’t.

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

She walked away.

I watched her go.

For some reason, I felt like I’d won something.

I didn’t know what.

⸻

Then Sofia started paying attention.

One afternoon, I tossed Aisha’s notebook onto the table.

“Your handwriting is terrible.”

Aisha reached for it.

“At least I can read mine.”

I laughed.

Sofia looked up from her phone.

“Ethan, leave her alone.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“Because you’re being childish.”

Aisha glanced at Sofia.

For a second, there was relief in her eyes.

Then Sofia continued.

“Besides, if she wants to stay here, she should learn how things work.”

Aisha’s expression changed.

Sofia smiled.

“This isn’t the kind of school where people can just walk in because they got lucky.”

Aisha said nothing.

She picked up her notebook and left.

I watched her disappear.

I wanted to follow.

I didn’t.

⸻

Later that evening, I saw her sitting alone outside the library.

Her books were spread around her.

She was staring at a calculator.

Then her phone buzzed.

She looked at it.

Her shoulders dropped.

I couldn’t hear what the message said.

But I watched her count the money in her wallet.

Twice.

Then she closed it.

I looked away.

For the first time, I wondered whether I had been laughing at something that wasn’t funny.

The thought bothered me.

So the next morning, I did what I always did when something bothered me.

I ignored it.

Aisha was standing near the stairs with three books against her chest when I stepped in front of her.

“Need help?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

I took one of the books.

She grabbed it back.

“I said no.”

I smiled.

“Still angry?”

She looked at me.

Something in her face made the smile disappear.

“You really don’t know when to stop.”

I shrugged.

“You’re fun when you’re angry.”

“I’ve been angry since I met you.”

“That sounds personal.”

“It is.”

She stepped closer.

“You don’t know anything about me, Ethan.”

I didn’t answer.

“You think because you’re rich and everyone knows your name, you can do whatever you want.”

“I never said that.”

“You don’t have to.”

Her voice cracked.

Just once.

Then she steadied it.

“You don’t know what happens after I leave this school.”

I stared at her.

“You don’t know what I have to give up to stay here.”

She tightened her grip around the books.

“So stop making my life harder.”

Then she walked away.

I stood there.

No joke came.

No comeback.

Nothing.

Because suddenly, I remembered the way she’d been counting money outside the library.

And I understood something I should have understood much earlier.

Maybe I wasn’t teasing her.

Maybe I was simply becoming another problem she couldn’t afford.

⸻

That evening, I saw her again.

She was sitting alone beneath a tree near the library.

Her head was lowered.

Her shoulders shook once.

Then she quickly wiped her face and looked around.

Nobody had noticed.

Except me.

I took one step toward her.

Then stopped.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to say.

So I stayed where I was.

And for the first time since Aisha came back into my life, I didn’t want her attention.

I wanted to understand why she was crying.

I just didn’t know if I had the right to ask.