CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE: UNSAID
People often say actions speak louder than words.
I wasn't sure I believed that anymore.
Actions could be misunderstood.
Kindness could be mistaken for affection.
Friendliness could become hope.
And hope...
Hope had a dangerous way of making people see only what they wanted to see.
That Monday morning, the weather was unusually cool.
Dark clouds covered the sky, shielding the school from the harsh sun that had troubled us for weeks. The breeze that drifted through the compound made assembly more bearable than usual.
After the morning devotion, the principal reminded us once again about the continuous assessment tests scheduled for the following week.
"Your results this term will determine your academic standing," he announced. "Don't wait until the examination period before you start reading."
The usual murmurs followed.
As soon as assembly was dismissed, students streamed back towards their classrooms.
Daniel stretched dramatically as we climbed the staircase.
"I've not even written one test, and I'm already tired."
"You've been tired since the term resumed," I replied.
"That's because school is stressful."
Samuel laughed.
"I thought you liked school."
"I like passing," Daniel corrected. "School itself is another matter."
Gift shook her head from beside him.
"You always have something to complain about."
"It's a talent."
"It's an annoying talent."
The four of us laughed before entering the classroom.
...
The first lesson was Literature.
Our teacher walked in carrying several novels and exercise books.
Without wasting time, she began asking questions from the chapter we had been told to read over the weekend.
Hands slowly went up across the classroom.
Mine stayed down.
I had read the chapter.
Twice.
But I wasn't confident enough to answer.
"Samuel."
He stood immediately.
The teacher asked her question.
Samuel answered calmly.
"Correct."
He sat down.
A few minutes later—
"Floral."
My heart jumped.
I stood.
The question wasn't difficult.
I knew the answer.
Yet somehow, every word disappeared from my mind.
The classroom became unusually quiet.
I took a deep breath.
Then answered.
The teacher smiled.
"Very good."
Relief washed over me.
As I sat down, Samuel leaned slightly towards me.
"I told you that you knew it."
I looked at him.
"You noticed?"
"You looked nervous."
I smiled faintly.
"I was."
"You worry too much."
"Maybe."
He opened his textbook again.
"You'll be fine."
Such ordinary words.
Yet somehow...
They stayed with me for the rest of the morning.
...
During break, most students rushed outside.
I stayed behind to complete the Literature notes before the next teacher arrived.
Samuel also remained.
"You don't want to buy anything?"
He shook his head.
"I'm not hungry."
"Really?"
"I ate enough during breakfast."
I nodded.
For several minutes, the classroom remained quiet except for the scratching of our pens.
Then Samuel suddenly spoke.
"Can I ask you something?"
I looked up.
"What?"
"If you had the chance to change one thing about yourself..."
He paused.
"...what would it be?"
I blinked.
"That's random."
"I know."
I thought about it for a moment.
"I think..."
I smiled awkwardly.
"...I'd like to stop overthinking."
He looked at me thoughtfully.
"You overthink that much?"
"I do."
"I've noticed."
I laughed softly.
"Of course you have."
"You think about everything before speaking."
"That's true."
He rested his elbow on the desk.
"I don't think that's a bad thing."
"It is sometimes."
"When?"
"When your thoughts become louder than reality."
He didn't reply immediately.
Instead, he looked out of the window where a few boys were playing with a plastic bottle in the open field.
Then he nodded slowly.
"I understand."
His answer surprised me.
"You do?"
"Hm."
He smiled faintly.
"I think too."
"You?"
He laughed.
"Are you surprised?"
"A little."
"You think I'm always confident."
"Aren't you?"
He shook his head.
"Not always."
For the first time...
I realised that Samuel wasn't as carefree as everyone believed.
There were things he kept to himself.
Thoughts he never shared.
Perhaps...
We weren't as different as I had imagined.
...
The rest of the school day passed peacefully.
Teachers came and left.
Assignments multiplied.
Students complained.
Everything felt normal.
Until the final lesson.
Our Civic Education teacher announced a group assignment.
"You'll work in groups of four."
Before anyone could choose their friends, she began calling names.
"Samuel."
"Present, Ma."
"Floral."
"Present, Ma."
"Daniel."
"Present, Ma."
"Gift."
"Present, Ma."
The four of us exchanged surprised looks.
Daniel smiled.
"Looks like we're stuck together."
Gift nodded.
"It'll be easier."
The teacher continued assigning the remaining students.
Before long, every group had been formed.
"You have one week to submit your work," she announced.
"No excuses."
As soon as she left, Daniel clapped his hands.
"Meeting after evening prep."
"So serious?" I asked.
"We need good marks."
Samuel nodded.
"He's right."
Gift took out a sheet of paper.
"Let's divide the topics now."
For the next twenty minutes, we discussed the assignment.
Daniel kept making jokes.
Gift repeatedly reminded him to focus.
Samuel quietly organised everyone's ideas.
I wrote down the final outline.
It was the first time the four of us had worked together.
Surprisingly...
It went well.
Very well.
...
After evening prep, we returned to the hostels.
The girls' hostel was as lively as ever.
Girls discussed classes while arranging their lockers for the next day.
Others hurried to the bathrooms before the queue became too long.
I sat on my bunk brushing my hair when Gift returned from the locker room.
She placed her books neatly beneath her pillow before looking up at me.
"You know..."
"What?"
She smiled slightly.
"You and Samuel work well together."
The brush paused in my hand.
"We're just seat partners."
"Hm."
"There you go again."
She laughed.
"I only said what I observed."
I smiled.
"So did I."
She lay on her bed quietly.
After a while, she spoke again.
"I used to think he liked someone else."
My heartbeat slowed.
"What made you change your mind?"
She shrugged.
"I don't know."
She looked towards the ceiling.
"I just think..."
Her voice faded.
"...never mind."
"What?"
"It's nothing."
I didn't ask again.
Somehow...
I felt she genuinely meant it this time.
Not every unfinished sentence needed to be completed.
Not every feeling needed to be explained.
Sometimes...
Silence revealed more than words ever could.
That night, as rain began tapping softly against the hostel roof once again, I lay awake thinking about the day.
Samuel's quiet encouragement.
Our conversation during break.
The group assignment.
Gift's unfinished sentence.
Everything seemed ordinary on its own.
Yet together...
They felt like pieces of a puzzle I still couldn't solve.
And without realising it...
The distance between Samuel and me had become smaller than ever before.
Not because either of us had said how we felt.
But because some feelings...
Were beginning to speak for themselves.