CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE: THE WRONG CONCLUSION
The problem with having feelings for someone is that every little thing suddenly starts meaning something.
A smile becomes a sign.
A compliment becomes a hint.
A simple act of kindness becomes a message hidden between the lines.
And before you know it, your brain is creating stories that may not even exist.
Unfortunately for me, I was beginning to learn that lesson the hard way.
The following week started quietly.
Almost suspiciously quietly.
No drama.
No arguments.
No unexpected surprises.
Just classes, assignments, and teachers reminding us every five minutes that we were now senior students and should start taking academics seriously.
As if they hadn't been saying the same thing since JSS1.
By Wednesday afternoon, everybody was already exhausted.
The weather didn't help either.
The sun seemed determined to roast every student alive.
Even the ceiling fans in class looked tired.
I sat beside Samuel during Agricultural Science, trying to concentrate on what the teacher was explaining about soil nutrients.
Trying.
Because concentrating became difficult whenever Samuel decided to exist beside me.
"Do you understand this topic?" he whispered.
"Small."
"Small?"
I nodded.
"That's Nigerian language for I don't understand anything."
I laughed despite myself.
The teacher immediately looked in our direction.
Both of us sat up straight.
As innocent as possible.
The teacher narrowed her eyes.
Then continued teaching.
The moment she turned away, Samuel leaned closer.
"You nearly got us into trouble."
"I?"
"You laughed."
"Because you said something funny."
"So it's my fault?"
"Exactly."
He shook his head.
"Wonderful."
I smiled and faced my notebook again.
Break period arrived.
Students flooded out of classrooms almost immediately.
Some heading towards the canteen.
Others towards the field.
Others simply looking for shade.
I remained in class.
Mostly because I was tired.
And because I wanted peace.
Unfortunately, peace didn't want me.
"Floral."
I looked up.
Gift stood beside my desk.
That alone was unusual.
Gift rarely came to my seat unless there was a reason.
"What happened?"
She hesitated briefly.
Then sat on an empty chair nearby.
"I want to ask you something."
That sounded dangerous already.
"What?"
Gift looked around first.
Making sure nobody was listening.
Then she lowered her voice.
"Do you like Samuel?"
I nearly dropped my pen.
Of all the questions.
Of all the possible questions.
Why that one?
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Waiting.
Patiently.
Unfortunately.
"Why are you asking?"
"Just answer."
"No."
It came out too fast.
Too defensive.
Too suspicious.
Gift raised an eyebrow.
"Hm."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
"It obviously means something."
She shrugged.
"I was just asking."
I didn't believe her.
Not even slightly.
Gift wasn't the type to ask random questions.
There was always a reason.
Always.
And that made me nervous.
Very nervous.
"Why?"
She looked away briefly.
Then smiled.
A strange smile.
One I couldn't fully understand.
"Forget it."
Before I could stop her, she stood up and walked away.
Leaving me even more confused than before.
The rest of the day felt strange.
Gift seemed distracted.
Samuel seemed normal.
Daniel seemed unusually cheerful.
And I seemed incapable of understanding what was happening.
Which was becoming a recurring problem.
After evening prep, students gradually began returning to their hostels.
The compound looked peaceful.
The air felt cooler.
And for once, nobody seemed interested in causing unnecessary noise.
I was halfway to the girls' hostel when Victoria suddenly appeared beside me.
"Good evening."
"You nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I accepted it anyway."
I rolled my eyes.
Victoria smiled.
Then suddenly her expression changed.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Depends."
"About Samuel."
Immediately suspicious.
"What about him?"
Victoria looked around dramatically.
Then lowered her voice.
"I think Gift likes him."
I stopped walking.
Completely.
Victoria nodded as if confirming her own statement.
"I've been noticing it."
My chest tightened.
Just slightly.
Not because the information was shocking.
I already knew.
At least partly.
But hearing somebody else say it made it feel more real.
"What makes you think so?"
Victoria looked offended.
"As if it's not obvious."
I sighed.
"Victoria."
"Okay, okay."
She laughed.
Then continued.
"She's always looking for reasons to talk to him."
I remained quiet.
Because that part was true.
"And she always notices where he is."
Also true.
"And she smiles differently around him."
That too.
Victoria nodded confidently.
"Exactly."
I hated how much sense she was making.
That night, the hostel was unusually calm.
Most girls seemed too tired to create trouble.
A rare miracle.
I climbed onto my bunk and lay down quietly.
Gift was below me.
Reading a novel with the aid of a rechargeable lamp before lights-out.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then unexpectedly—
"Floral."
"Hm?"
Gift's voice sounded thoughtful.
Almost hesitant.
"If a boy likes a girl..."
I immediately became suspicious.
"What about it?"
She paused.
Then asked,
"How can you tell?"
My heart skipped.
Just once.
But enough.
I stared at the ceiling.
Thinking carefully.
"Why are you asking me?"
"Just answer."
I sighed.
Girls.
We really knew how to stress ourselves.
"I don't know."
"Try."
I thought for a moment.
Then answered honestly.
"I think he pays attention."
Gift became quiet.
So I continued.
"He notices things."
"Hm."
"He remembers little details."
"Hm."
"And he tries to spend time with her."
The silence that followed felt longer than normal.
Then Gift finally spoke.
"What if he acts that way with more than one girl?"
The question hit differently.
Much differently.
Because suddenly—
I wasn't thinking about Gift anymore.
I was thinking about Samuel.
Samuel who noticed things.
Samuel who remembered details.
Samuel who cared.
Samuel who also talked to Gift.
My chest tightened.
Again.
"What if he's just friendly?" Gift continued quietly.
I swallowed.
Because that possibility existed too.
A very real possibility.
And maybe that was what scared me most.
Not rejection.
Not heartbreak.
But misunderstanding kindness for affection.
"I don't know," I admitted softly.
Gift sighed.
"Neither do I."
For the first time in a long while, I felt something close to sympathy for her.
Because maybe we were struggling with the same confusion.
Just from different positions.
The next day brought an unexpected surprise.
The first two periods passed normally.
Then during the third period, our class teacher entered.
Everybody immediately became quiet.
Whenever she entered unexpectedly, it usually meant one thing.
Announcement.
And announcements rarely brought good news.
She placed a file on the desk.
Then adjusted her glasses.
"Listen carefully."
The class became silent.
"We will be changing some seating arrangements."
The entire classroom groaned.
Loudly.
My heart immediately dropped.
No.
Absolutely not.
The teacher ignored the complaints.
"As students grow comfortable, distractions increase."
A few students laughed nervously.
The teacher continued.
"So some seat partners will be changed."
I looked at Samuel.
Samuel looked at me.
Neither of us said anything.
But the thought crossed both our minds.
Immediately.
The teacher opened the file.
And began reading names.
One after another.
Students exchanged seats.
Complained.
Argued.
Negotiated unsuccessfully.
Then finally—
"Samuel."
My stomach tightened.
The teacher continued.
"You will move to the third row."
The classroom suddenly felt too quiet.