My Best Friend, My Crush

Chapter 1: Just Friends… or Maybe Not I can’t remember a time in my life when Alexander wasn’t there. It feels like he’s always been part of my story—like a shadow that never leaves, a name that never fades. We met when we were just kids, back in JSS1. But even before that, our parents were already friends. Our mums used to attend the same women’s meeting at the mosque, and our dads once worked together in the local government office. I think that was the first link. But for us, it all started in that small, noisy classroom where everything changed for me. That day, I walked into the classroom with my socks halfway down and my books tightly hugged to my chest. I was shy. I didn’t know anyone. Most of the other students already had people they knew from primary school. I had transferred from a different town, so I was starting from scratch. Then I saw him. He was seated on the second row, close to the window. His bag was black and almost bigger than his body. He was drawing something—a superhero or maybe a car, I couldn’t tell. His head was bent slightly, and he had this deep concentration on his face. I don’t know why, but that face pulled me in. I took the seat behind him, thinking that was it. But then he turned back, smiled, and said, “I’m Alexander. What’s your name?” That’s how it began. From that day, Alexander became my best friend. We did almost everything together. We ate together during break time, walked home together after school, even did assignments together. If you saw Alexander, you saw me. If you saw me, you saw him. Teachers used to joke that we were twins born on different days. Some classmates even shipped us together—called us husband and wife, especially when we sat close in class. But we always laughed it off. “Please o,” he’d say. “She’s my sister.” Each time he said that, a part of my heart broke. I would smile, pretend like it didn’t hurt, but deep down, it stung. I was not his sister. I didn’t want to be. I wanted to be something more. But I couldn’t tell him. Because I was scared. Scared that if he knew how I really felt, everything would change. And I wasn’t ready to lose what we had. I wasn’t ready to lose him. So, I became the perfect best friend. The one who listened to all his rants. The one who helped him do his assignments. The one who laughed at his jokes—even the ones that weren’t funny. And the one who secretly watched him fall in love with other girls. Yes, other girls. Alexander was that kind of boy everyone liked. He was tall, neat, always smelling like soap and coconut oil. His uniform was always well ironed. His hair was always brushed neatly. He had this gentle way of talking and a smile that could melt anyone’s heart. So, of course, girls liked him. And each time a girl came into his life, I hated it. I hated how he would talk about her. How he would ask me, “Do you think she likes me?” or “Should I tell her I like her?” I hated how my heart would sink each time he walked someone else home instead of me. I hated it. But I never showed it. Instead, I did the one thing I knew how to do best—I protected my position. I remained the best friend. But secretly, I did everything I could to make sure those other girls didn’t last. I know it sounds wicked, but I couldn’t help it. I would tell him small things to discourage him. “Oh, that girl? I saw her talking to another boy.” Or, “I don’t think she’s really serious o.” Sometimes I would pretend to overhear things, or even make up things that sounded real. And most times, it worked. He would pull back, get confused, and eventually move on. And I would get him back. Back to myself. Back where he belonged. But he never noticed. Not once. Years passed like that. From JSS1 to SS3, we remained inseparable. Even during our WAEC exams, we read together, helped each other stay awake through long nights. When results came out, we celebrated together. We both passed excellently. And then the best news came—we both got admission into the same university. I screamed when I saw my name. Not just because I was happy to get admission, but because it meant I would be with Alexander again. We were going to be in the same school, even though we were not in the same department. But that didn’t matter. We were still going to see each other often. Still going to spend time together. Still going to laugh, gist, and share food like we always did. But something changed in university. It wasn’t sudden, but it was there. He started making new friends—new girls. Pretty girls with long nails and fine makeup. Girls that looked like they belonged in music videos. And me? I was just Anabel. His childhood best friend. The girl he had known since JSS1. The girl who he said was like a “sister.” I wanted to scream sometimes. To shake him and ask, “Can’t you see me?” But I couldn’t. So I stayed quiet. And smiled. And laughed at his jokes. And helped him type assignments. And reminded him of deadlines. And listened to him talk about the new girl he saw in the cafeteria. The same girl whose number I later deleted from his phone when he wasn’t looking. Yes, I did that. I was that desperate. But I was also that hurt. Because every day, it felt like I was fading in his eyes. Like I was becoming just a shadow of the girl I used to be. He didn’t see me anymore. Not the way I wanted him to. But I saw him. And I loved him. More than I loved anything else in this world. I loved how he always opened the door for me. I loved how he remembered my birthday without f*******: reminders. I loved how he defended me once when a boy insulted me in class. I loved everything about him. But he didn’t know. And maybe that was my fault. Because I never told him. I thought keeping the secret was better than risking the friendship. But what I didn’t know was that secrets have a way of leaking out. And one day… mine did. But that’s a story for another chapter.