DAY OF THE QUARTER FINALS
The Bus ride there was as quiet as it was bumpy. They both arrived at Shining Sun at 7 am sharp, as the drive to Ikeja would be traffic-infested today.
"I have a lot of faith in both of you. Hmm, yes. A lot of faith. Some more snacks await you when you get back!"
Mr Matthews wasn't worried in the slightest. Rightfully so, with the record the two had procured. But not everyone was oblivious to the tense energy that filled the vehicle.
That's when you noticed the distant ambient sound effects of fight scenes. The freeloader had tagged along. One might wonder why the boy was allowed to skip school like this. The answer would not surprise one either. A special request from Tammy.
Nothing from either. Mandy sat upright, notebook in hand. At the back of the bus, Tammy lay, staring at the ceiling.
"Aren't you two going to discuss the topic?"
And smack in the middle, was the teacher told to chaperone them.
She asked again as the bus bumped its way through the muddy roads. Still no answer from either.
Then, she simply shrugged. The type of shrug that told you that she'd played these games before.
"As long as you win."
At last, the old man of a bus pulled up in Opebi, right in front of the grand gates of the five-acre school.
The gates loomed like a cathedral's, all wrought iron and gold leaf. The bus wheezed to a halt, doors hissing open to release them into air so thick with humidity it felt like the school itself was breathing down their necks. Likely courtesy of the Friday morning this took place on.
Mandy stepped out first, her oxfords crunching on imported gravel. Tammy followed not behind her, not beside her, but at that precise diagonal angle that meant they were neither together nor apart.
Somewhere beyond the manicured hedges, a crowd was gathered in the multi-purpose hall. Somewhere beyond that, judges waited with scorecards and preconceptions.
But for now, everyone was backstage. A brand new greenroom had been ordered by the school, and both parties used it to their advantage.
The Krisland students, being in home territory, had set up shop ages ago.
"Is that him?" Joy asked, nudging Chiamaka's shoulder.
The touch seemed to snap her out of a trance. "Y-yeah," she murmured, a bit too quickly.
Joy squinted at the boy across the room. "Huh. Doesn't look that intimidating. He hasn't even said a word."
"Like I said before. Please, don't look at him during the debate."
"Why?"
"Just don't. The Crossfire will be hard, so try not to be overwhelmed afterwards."
"Don't worry. I'll be fine. I asked to close out for a reason."
Chiamaka straightened, smoothing her blazer as if it would steady her nerves. "Alright. One last debrief."
"Now?" Joy groaned. "Seriously?"
But while the students of Krisland, likely used to the smell of antiseptic and ambition, looked to be in deep conversation, Team Shining Sun looked as dry as a desert.
For if it wasn't the chaperone fiddling with her phone, or the freeloader doing the same, it was that damned scoundrel who still had his head in the clouds.
Mandy, on the other hand, was sweating bullets.
"They must have allowed them to watch this tournament without attending the first period. That explains the crowd."
She sighed. "It means I'm dealing with a home advantage as well."
She glanced back.
"God."
A hearty, tall man strolled into their greenroom. His green shirt made him camouflage with the walls, as he took them by suprise.
"Alright! Two minutes to get on-stage. Good game, but I hope you lose."
She forced a polite smile that slowly transformed into a grimace. And as he left, Tammy stood and started toward the stage stairs.
"Davidson."
Tammy stopped mid-stride, turning back to face her.
He looked about how you would expect.
Lifeless at best.
Her breath hitched.
"Please." Her voice cracked. "I didn't mean to…We're not ready. If we go up there like this, we'll ruin everything. Everything we've worked to build. Please."
A tear escaped, streaking down her cheek. She swiped at it furiously.
"Let's just… go home."
Silence.
Then, with both feet planted firmly on the stage-
"But Mandy."
His voice.
His voice.
Smooth. Commanding. Effortless. A voice that didn't hesitate, didn't stammer, didn't falter. A voice that belonged to a boy who owned the stage.
Mandy's head snapped up.
He stood taller, shoulders squared, chin lifted. The dim backstage lighting caught the sharp angles of his face, casting him in an almost ethereal glow. His lips quivered slightly into something that wasn't quite a smile, but close.
"We need to win this debate!"
Her chest tightened.
Before she could process it, he extended a hand toward her. Not to pull her up. Not to comfort her.
"Or are you quitting?"
Quickly, she snapped out of her trance.
"No! Don't start this rubbish now. You're not prepared. We'll be-"
But he had already began to walk away.
"HEY!"
"I'll be waiting."
"That's… what?"
The words slipped out before she could cage them, her voice thinner than she'd ever allow onstage.
Destiny's arm draped over her shoulder like a stray banner. "You heard him, love."
She elbowed him. Hard. Ribs crunched. He wheezed.
"Don't touch me," she hissed. "Or call me that."
But her hands shook as she straightened her blazer. One breath. Two. Then-
Footsteps.
Mandy Cherry marched onto the stage like a soldier storming a trench.
Behind her, Destiny massaged his ribs, grinning through the pain.
"Ow."
The hall swallowed itself in darkness, every curtain drawn tight like a held breath. Only the stage survived as a surgical island of light exposing two skeletal sets of plastic chairs and a lonely podium, its wooden surface scarred from a decade of nervous fingernails.
The moderator's microphone screeched to life, a sound like tearing paper.
"Good morning."
A pause. The kind that made you check if time had stopped.
"Honorable adjudicators, debaters, and..." his eyes skimmed the crowd "hopefully not-biased audience."
Polite laughter. But Mandy's knuckles tightened.
"To us in the crowd. Teachers. Silence your phones. Don't shuffle in and out during the debate. And please keep applause to the appropriate times."
A spotlight split the dark.
"Affirmative team: Shining Sun Secondary School." The light licked Tammy's profile first, then Mandy, her spine so straight it looked painful. "Mr. Tamuno-Ibi Davidson and Ms. Amanda Cherry."
Across the stage, two girls in crisper uniforms. One smirked. Krisland, Opebi.
"Negative team: Chiamaka Layomi and Joy Janet." The moderator smirked.
Chiamaka's polished loafer tapped a staccato threat.
"Motion sponsored by Martha Olomojobi…" (scattered applause for a woman nowhere in sight) "...be it resolved that AI is humanity's friend and not its foe."
The microphone crackled like fire.
"Affirmative team: Ms. Cherry. You have three minutes."
Mandy stood.
The podium waited.
Somewhere in the dark, Tammy exhaled. Just once, and it sounded like a starting gun. But not to a race. No. To a battle.
"You may begin."