If only

chapter 8

Nothing changed after the crying.

Mariam didn’t ask questions.

Her mother never brought it up again.

The teachers didn’t treat me any different.

But Mariam… she changed.

Not in the loud, dramatic way people change.

She just started treating me like glass.

Careful. Gentle. Watching me like I might break if the wrong person bumped into me.

I hated it.

And I needed it.

That third term, the air felt heavy like the school walls had soaked up everything I wasn’t saying.

I had just started breathing again… when he came along.

Tunde.

Not the kind of boy who announces himself.

He crept in. Soft voice. Sharp eyes. That kind of presence that made you forget what you were thinking.

I’d always liked Shedrach, the boy who acted like life didn’t touch him.

But he belonged to Tomi then.

And Ayobami, the boy in JSS2 who confessed his feelings like he was reciting the school pledge sweet, but not for me.

Then came Tunde.

And everything shifted.

He didn’t flirt the way boys did.

He studied.

Waited.

Chose his moments like a hunter in the dark.

The first time he told me he liked me, my stomach did that stupid thing.

A twist. A spark. That flutter that feels like warning and want at the same time.

I liked him too. I just didn’t know what it meant yet.

Then came Wednesday.

Sports. The whole school out.

Sun high. Sweat everywhere. Grass wet from morning dew still refusing to dry.

We were playing catcher-catcher.

Innocent game. Until it wasn’t.

Ayobami tagged me.

I ran.

Tunde tagged me.

I ran again.

Then it became a rhythm.

Me. Me. Me.

Back and forth. Tunde and Ayobami passing the game like I was the only girl alive.

I pretended to laugh.

But my chest was pounding.

My face burned, not from the sun but from the way they were looking at me.

“Is it only the three of you playing?” someone shouted.

That’s when everything paused.

Like someone yanked the plug out of the fun.

Ayobami’s eyes changed.

His smile died.

And from that day, he started acting strange quiet, withdrawn, cold.

Like something had been stolen from him and he knew who took it.

Weeks later, he was gone.

No announcement. No goodbyes.

Just… vanished.

And Tunde?

He kept showing up.

Not always with words, but with presence.

Sitting near me during break. Standing close enough for our shoulders to almost touch.

Catching my gaze and not looking away.

That was how it began

Me, still mourning someone I lost.

Him, stepping into the space I didn’t know was open.

A distraction I didn’t plan for.

A danger I didn’t mind dancing with.