CHAPTER NINETY-THREE: A PLACE BESIDE ME
Saturday mornings in boarding school always felt different.
There were no regular lessons.
No teachers rushing from one classroom to another.
No pressure to copy endless notes before the bell rang.
Instead, the school moved at a slower pace.
Students washed their uniforms, cleaned the hostels, scrubbed bathrooms, and complained from morning until afternoon.
By six o'clock, every girl in our hostel was already awake.
The senior girl stood at the entrance with a small notebook in her hand.
"Corner one!"
"Present!"
"Corner two!"
"Present!"
She continued taking attendance while assigning duties for the morning sanitation.
When she finally got to our corner, she looked up.
"Gift."
"Present."
"Floral."
"Present."
"You two will sweep the corridor from this end to the staircase."
"Yes, Senior."
Gift picked up a broom without saying a word.
I grabbed another one, and together we walked out into the corridor.
The morning air was cool, and the compound was still damp from the rain the previous night.
Girls from other rooms were already outside, sweeping, fetching water and chatting as they worked.
For several minutes, Gift and I swept in silence.
Neither of us seemed interested in starting a conversation.
The sound of our brooms dragging across the concrete floor filled the quiet morning.
Eventually, Gift spoke.
"Your corner is cleaner than ours."
I laughed softly.
"It's the same corridor."
"I know."
She smiled slightly.
"I just wanted to say something."
That caught me off guard.
"You've changed."
She shrugged.
"Maybe."
We continued sweeping.
A few minutes later, one of the junior girls hurried past us carrying two buckets.
She accidentally bumped into Gift.
"I'm sorry, Senior!"
"It's fine," Gift replied calmly.
The girl smiled gratefully before running off.
I glanced at Gift.
"You didn't shout at her."
She looked confused.
"Should I have?"
"No."
She laughed.
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm surprised."
"I've never shouted at anybody for an accident."
She was right.
Gift wasn't rude.
She was simply... difficult to read.
People often misunderstood quiet people.
Maybe I had too.
...
By eight o'clock, sanitation was over.
Everyone returned to the hostel to bathe and change.
After breakfast, students were allowed to spend some free time before the afternoon study period.
Some girls returned to sleep.
Others gathered in small groups, sharing biscuits and groundnuts.
I went to the locker room to collect my English textbook.
As I closed my locker, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Floral."
I turned.
Victoria.
Beside her stood Morayo.
"What are both of you doing here?"
Victoria lifted her towel.
"Coming to collect our bathing things."
Morayo folded her arms.
"But we actually came to find you."
"Me?"
"Yes."
I frowned.
"What happened?"
Victoria smiled.
"Nothing serious."
That sentence alone made me suspicious.
She stepped closer.
"Some of us are going to revise together after lunch."
"Oh."
"You should join us."
I hesitated.
"I usually read alone."
"We know."
Morayo nodded.
"That's exactly why we're inviting you."
I smiled.
"I'll think about it."
Victoria sighed dramatically.
"You always think."
"Thinking is free."
They both laughed.
"Just come."
"I'll try."
As they walked away, I couldn't help smiling.
Months ago...
Neither of them would have invited me anywhere.
Things really had changed.
Not completely.
But enough.
...
Later that afternoon, I walked into the classroom carrying my English textbook.
Only a few students had arrived.
Daniel was already there, reading a novel.
Gift sat quietly at her seat, revising Mathematics.
Samuel hadn't arrived yet.
I sat down and opened my book.
A few minutes later, Samuel entered the classroom.
He greeted a few students before making his way to our desk.
"Good afternoon."
"Afternoon."
He placed his books on the desk and sat down.
"You came early today."
"So did you."
He smiled.
"Fair enough."
The classroom gradually became fuller.
Students discussed assignments while waiting for supervised study to begin.
Daniel suddenly stood up from his seat.
"Samuel."
Samuel looked up.
"Hm?"
"I need your Economics notebook."
"It's in my bag."
Daniel collected it.
Then looked at me.
"Floral."
"What?"
"You've finished your English assignment?"
"Almost."
"Can I copy the summary later?"
I laughed.
"You're unbelievable."
"I know."
"Do your own work."
"I already did."
"So why do you want mine?"
"To compare."
Samuel chuckled.
"Compare indeed."
Daniel grinned.
"I like confirming my intelligence."
"You mean confirming your mistakes," I replied.
The classroom burst into laughter.
Daniel placed his hand dramatically on his chest.
"I've been insulted."
"You'll survive."
"I don't think so."
He walked back to his seat shaking his head.
Gift looked up from her notebook and smiled faintly at his behaviour.
For a moment, everything felt... normal.
No rumours.
No awkward conversations.
No confusing questions.
Just classmates teasing one another.
I realised how much I had missed that feeling.
...
During the study period, the classroom became almost silent.
Only the sound of pages turning and pens scratching against paper could be heard.
I concentrated on my English notes.
Occasionally, Samuel asked me the meaning of a word.
Sometimes I asked him to explain a point in Biology.
Studying beside him had become strangely easy.
Comfortable.
Neither of us forced conversations.
We simply helped each other whenever necessary.
At one point, my pen stopped writing.
I shook it several times.
Nothing.
Samuel noticed.
Without saying a word, he reached into his pencil case and placed another pen on my notebook.
I looked at him.
"I'll return it."
"I know."
"Thank you."
He nodded once before returning to his work.
Such a simple gesture.
Yet somehow...
It stayed in my mind for the rest of the afternoon.
Not because of the pen.
But because he had noticed before I even asked.
...
As evening approached, supervised study ended.
Students packed their books noisily.
Some hurried towards the hostel.
Others remained behind discussing assignments.
As I arranged my books inside my bag, Samuel spoke quietly.
"You know..."
I looked at him.
"You've become easier to talk to."
I blinked.
"What?"
He smiled.
"In JSS, you used to argue with me over everything."
"I still do."
"Not as much."
I laughed.
"Maybe you've become less annoying."
"I doubt that."
"So do I."
We both laughed.
Then, for a brief moment, neither of us said anything.
The classroom had begun to empty again.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor.
Samuel looked at the empty seat beside him.
Then back at me.
"I'm glad you're my seat partner."