CHAPTER 15: BETWEEN THE LINES
750 Words
(Aurora & Chidera POV)
Aurora
I like coming early.
Before the noise.
Before Dawn’s chaos.
Before Yemisi’s silence sharpens into something dangerous.
Before Emeka turns the hallway into a comedy show.
Morning is the only time school feels honest.
I’m heading toward the library when I see him.
Chidera.
Sitting on the low wall near the science block. Earphones in. Head tilted back like he’s negotiating with the sky.
He looks peaceful.
Detached.
Like he doesn’t need anyone.
That’s a lie, probably.
I don’t know why I stop walking.
But I do.
“You look like you’re solving world hunger,” I say.
Chidera
I hear her before I see her.
Her footsteps are lighter than Dawn’s. More controlled.
Aurora doesn’t walk. She moves like she’s always aware of space.
I pull one earphone out slowly.
There she is.
Calm face. Sharp eyes.
“I am,” I reply. “But the world isn’t cooperating.”
She laughs.
It’s softer than Dawn’s laugh.
Less explosive.
More… real.
She sits beside me.
Careful distance.
Aurora always calculates distance.
From people.
From emotions.
From chaos.
“You’re early,” I say.
“You noticed?”
Of course I noticed.
She thinks no one sees her because she’s not loud.
But I do.
“Hard not to,” I shrug. “You usually walk in with Dawn like security detail.”
She crosses her arms.
Defensive.
Cute.
“I do not.”
“You do.”
She tries not to smile.
Fails.
Aurora
He watches.
That’s what I’m realizing.
Chidera doesn’t speak much.
But he notices everything.
“Why are you here early?” I ask.
“Home was loud.”
His tone shuts the door gently.
I respect that.
So I don’t push.
Silence settles.
Not awkward.
Just present.
Then he asks—
“You ever get tired?”
I glance at him.
“Of?”
“Being the stable one.”
My chest tightens.
How did he—?
I don’t show it.
“How do you know I’m tired?”
He looks ahead when he answers.
“Because you check on everyone else first.”
I wasn’t prepared for that.
No one says things like that to me.
They just expect it.
I swallow.
“You talk a lot for someone quiet.”
Chidera
She’s deflecting.
But her voice dipped.
Just slightly.
“I only talk when it matters,” I tell her.
And it does matter.
She thinks she’s invisible because she isn’t dramatic.
But she carries everyone.
And it’s heavy.
The bell rings.
Neither of us moves.
That says more than anything.
I stand first.
But before we walk, I say—
“You don’t always have to be the glue.”
She looks at me properly now.
Not surface-level Aurora.
Just… her.
“And you don’t always have to disappear into the background,” she replies.
That one lands.
Because she’s right.
People think I’m quiet because I don’t care.
Truth is—
If you don’t expect anything from people, you can’t be disappointed.
But she sees through that.
We walk side by side toward the main building.
Shoulders brush once.
Neither of us apologizes.
Aurora
It’s subtle.
But it’s there.
The awareness.
The shift.
“Why do I feel like you’ve been analyzing me?” I ask.
He looks straight ahead.
“I don’t analyze.”
“Then what do you do?”
He pauses.
“I pay attention.”
That word shouldn’t feel intimate.
But it does.
Because attention is rare.
Real attention.
Not the loud kind.
The steady kind.
We reach the entrance where noise is already building.
Dawn’s storm is probably waiting around the corner.
He stops walking.
“You don’t have to fix everything today,” he says quietly.
I study him.
“Who says I’m fixing anything?”
“You always are.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
So I don’t say anything.
But something warm settles in my chest.
For once…
I don’t feel like support staff in someone else’s story.
And for once…
He doesn’t feel invisible either.
Chidera
She walks ahead slightly.
But not too far.
And I realize something.
Aurora isn’t loud like Dawn.
She isn’t sharp like Yemisi.
She isn’t chaotic like Emeka.
She’s steady.
And steady things don’t look exciting.
Until you realize they’re the only reason everything else doesn’t collapse.
And maybe—
Just maybe—
I don’t want to just observe her anymore.
Maybe I want to stand beside her.
- Writer
