The lights in the room were dim. A single table lamp cast a soft glow across the corner of the wall where Alex sat, elbows on his knees, fingers laced, staring at the floor like it held all the answers he didn't know how to ask.
The laughter of his friends from earlier still echoed faintly in his head. The wave. The smile. That girl. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly. It was her.
He had spent so many days walking around campus, catching fleeting glimpses of her—never close enough to say anything, never bold enough to approach. But that smile today... it wasn't just familiar—it was the smile. The one that had etched itself into his memory the day he sat nervously in the bus to the city, clutching his worn-out bag, unsure of what awaited him. That smile had calmed him once. And now, it had stirred something. He smiled faintly to himself, but then the smile faded, shadowed by something else—guilt? Uncertainty?
His mind drifted—inevitably—to Emily.
He had noticed her expression. The slight change in her eyes when she saw the girl wave at him. Emily was good at hiding things, but not from him. Not always. He remembered the moments they shared—the way she laughed when she forgot herself, the quiet way she listened when no one else did. The way their hands brushed once, and how neither of them pulled away. But then guy… Alex closed his eyes, letting the thoughts settle. Maybe he was foolish for still holding on to something that hadn't been said out loud. But even if nothing ever happened between them again, he knew what they shared was real—even if brief. He rose slowly and walked over to the small window that overlooked the neighborhood. The lights outside flickered in the distance. The air was still.
In the room beside his, he could hear Uncle John moving about—probably prepping for bed. That man had given him more than shelter. He had given him a second chance. A new beginning.
And here he was, in a world far from the dusty roads of the village, trying to find his place among people who didn't even know how far he'd come just to sit at the same table. A knock tapped gently on the door. Uncle John poked his head in.
"You good?" he asked, his voice warm, steady. Alex nodded. "Yeah… just thinking." Uncle John smiled faintly. "Thinking's good. Just don't do too much of it without sleeping." Alex chuckled softly. "I won't." As the door closed behind him again, Alex turned back to the window. He whispered to himself, not out of loneliness, but with quiet determination. "I'll figure it out. One thing at a time." And as he reached for the small notebook on his desk—the one he used to write down thoughts, goals, and pieces of poems he never showed anyone—he felt something shift.
The world still felt heavy sometimes. But right now, there was a quiet strength inside him. Tomorrow, he would return to campus. And maybe, just maybe… the next time he saw that girl, he would say something. Even if it was just hi.It was a breezy Thursday evening, the kind that wrapped the campus in a calm, amber hue. The sun had dipped low, but its golden warmth still lingered across the rooftops and walkways. The film screening was all everyone had been talking about that week—something about a student-directed documentary and a short indie feature that had already won some recognition at a local festival.
Alex had been reluctant at first. He didn't mind films, but gatherings like that were still something he was adjusting to. He had spent most of his life in a village where evenings meant sitting on a wooden stool, listening to his grandmother hum old songs as she peeled cassava. But Kenny and Mike wouldn't let him sit this one out.
"Guy, you dey act like we dey go wedding," Mike teased, elbowing Alex lightly as they walked across the courtyard. "It's just a screening."
"I just don't see the hype," Alex muttered, half-smiling. "But you'll come anyway," Kenny added with a grin. "Because we're your people now." Angela, walking a few steps ahead with Emily, turned around. "He'll thank us later," she said. "It's actually a good film. And besides… you never know who you might meet."
Emily shot her a quick look and nudged her in the side. The auditorium wasn't too far from the central cafeteria. Students were already gathering, some with popcorn packets in hand, others with hoodies pulled up, ready for a cozy seat in the dim light. Alex watched as a group of students laughed by the stairs. He felt the old habit rise inside him—that gentle instinct to stay at the edge, to observe, not insert himself. But his friends were different. They didn't let him fade into the background. Mike pulled him by the arm, and before he could blink, they had claimed six seats at the center row, right in front of the projector's golden glow.
Emily and Angela sat to one side, Kenny and Mike on the other. Alex found himself in the middle, sandwiched between the noise and the laughter.
It was in this moment—right before the lights dimmed—that Alex's eyes caught a figure by the aisle. A girl with dark skin, framed by soft curls, walked in with two other girls, her laughter quiet and graceful. She wasn't loud like the others. Her presence was calm, but she glowed in it.
Zara.
He didn't know her name then. He only recognized the face—first from the bus, then again from brief, silent encounters across campus. She hadn't seen him yet. But Alex's heart beat a little louder, as if something was reminding him. The film began. And as light flickered on the screen, Alex's mind drifted—between the faces beside him and the one just a few rows ahead.her gaze flickering between the screen and the silhouette seated across from her—Alex. He was on the other side with Mike and Kenny, but for a moment, it felt like he was much farther.
Emily tried to focus on the movie, but every time the lead characters exchanged glances on-screen, she felt her own chest flutter. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it wasn't. Alex wasn't saying much. He hadn't been for a while now. He sat forward, his arms resting on his knees, eyes glued to the screen but his mind somewhere else entirely. The breeze toyed with his collar, but he didn't notice. He was thinking. A few rows ahead seated Zara. He hadn't seen her arrive, but when their eyes accidentally met just before the movie began, she had given him a shy smile and a tiny wave. That moment had stuck with him like a thread tied to the back of his heart. He sighed softly and returned to the film just as a scene unfolded where the lead actor was quietly admiring the woman he loved—afraid to speak, afraid to ruin what felt delicate. It felt too familiar. Emily's eyes never fully left him, even as she leaned toward Angela and whispered something, laughing too quickly, trying too hard. But her smile didn't reach her eyes. A few seats over, John nudged Kenny and whispered, "You think Alex is still breathing?" Kenny chuckled. "I think he's somewhere in outer space."
"Or lost in her eyes," Mike added under his breath. Alex didn't hear them.
His mind drifted between memories and maybes. The night he first saw Zara on the bus. Her voice, faint and careful. The look she gave him just a few hours ago. There was something about her that pulled at parts of him he didn't even know existed. The movie played on, reaching its climax—a rain-soaked confession, soft music swelling as the two main characters embraced, drenched and desperate and in love. The crowd let out a collective sigh. Someone clapped softly. Angela leaned into Emily and whispered, "These kinds of love don't exist in real life." Emily gave a faint smile. "Maybe they do… but only for people brave enough to say what they feel."
Angela tilted her head. "Are you?"
Emily didn't answer. Her gaze returned to Alex. And on the other side of the lawn, Alex glanced her way for the briefest second. Their eyes met—and something passed between them. Something old. Something unfinished. But neither of them spoke.The soft murmur of applause died down as the screen faded to black. The final piano notes of the film's score lingered in the air, gentle as a whisper. Students began to rustle, picking up bags, folding blankets, brushing off popcorn kernels. The magic of the moment scattered like dust in the wind. But Alex didn't move.
He sat still, eyes fixed on the empty screen, like he was waiting for something else—an answer, a sign, or maybe a feeling to pass. Love… in the rain… bold enough to speak… brave enough to lose everything, he thought. The scene from the film replayed in his mind: how the man finally poured his heart out, not knowing what would come next—just that he had to say it. Alex exhaled. Slow. Heavy. He wasn't the guy who poured things out. Not because he didn't feel them, but because he felt too much. It was easier to carry it all quietly, tuck it under a smile, and move on. That's how it had always been. In the village, he learned early to bottle things up—his confusion about his mother, the emptiness when other kids talked about their parents, the ache of waiting for someone who never returned. Even now, in the city, sitting among people who laughed easily and joked loudly, there was still that boy in him. The one who watched others love freely while he stayed on the sidelines. He stood up slowly, brushing off the grass from his jeans. Kenny and Mike were already talking about where to grab food. John was cracking a joke with Angela, and Emily… Emily was looking at him again. That same quiet look that always made his heart clench. She had been close once. Maybe she still was. But something between them had shifted—like two pages of a story torn apart too soon.
Then there was her.
Zara.
He hadn't seen her leave, but he was certain she had watched the movie too. Maybe she was still somewhere in the crowd. Maybe she had felt something too.
Alex ran a hand through his hair, distracted, unsettled. The kind of unsettled that made you want to walk, alone, in the dark and think until you couldn't anymore.
"Yo, you okay?" Mike's voice broke in, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "You looked like you were about to cry back there. That movie hit hard, huh?"
Alex gave a faint laugh. "Nah… just thinking."
"About the girl in the movie?" Kenny teased. Alex didn't answer. Because, maybe… yeah. But not that girl.
He glanced one more time around the field, hoping to catch a glimpse of Zara—dark hair, graceful walk, that quiet confidence she carried like perfume.
But she was gone. And so was the moment. The group began to walk off, light chatter filling the night air. Emily walked a bit behind, talking to Angela. Alex caught her eye once more, and she smiled—soft, but unreadable.
He smiled back, then looked away.
His heart was full… and confused.
And as they headed toward the hostel path, Alex quietly thought to himself:
Maybe tomorrow…The night was cool, the kind that wrapped itself gently around you like a borrowed sweater. Lamps flickered along the path, casting pools of golden light between stretches of soft shadow. The group walked slowly, still riding the afterglow of the movie.
Mike and Kenny were up ahead, playfully arguing over whether the lead actor's tears were real. "I'm telling you, that was CGI, bro. No way he cried that perfect," Mike said, nudging Kenny. Kenny scoffed. "Nah, that was real heartbreak. You could feel it." Angela laughed beside them, tossing in her own commentary, while John stayed a step behind, humming the movie's theme under his breath.
Alex walked quietly in the middle, half-listening, half-elsewhere. He glanced to his left—Emily walked beside him, hands folded in front of her, her face unreadable. The glow from the streetlamps danced softly on her skin, and for a moment, Alex wondered what was behind her silence. They reached the girls' hostel first. "This is us," Angela said, stretching a little as she turned to the rest. "Yeah," Emily added, her voice quiet but kind. She looked at Alex, and for a second, her eyes lingered. "Thanks for walking with us." Alex nodded. "Anytime."
Mike saluted playfully. "Ladies, goodnight. Don't dream about the actor too much."
Angela rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Mike."
They disappeared through the gate, leaving Alex with Kenny, Mike and John. They continued along the path for a while, until they reached the block where the boys stayed. "This is us too," Kenny said, stretching out his arms with a yawn. "Man, that movie really messed me up. I'm not crying—you're crying."
John chuckled. "Get some rest, bro. You need it." They exchanged brief goodnights. Then, like a familiar rhythm, Alex turned to walk back alone.
The campus felt different now. Quieter. Still. As though it had folded in on itself, tucking the day away in the corners of buildings and trees. Alex walked slowly, hands in his pockets, letting the silence wrap around him. He thought of the movie, of the girl on the phone earlier, of the way she had smiled at him. He thought of Emily's silence too.
And of the warmth in Mr. Asare's voice when he asked about their dreams.
As he approached the taxi line near the school gate, Alex paused. He turned once more toward the campus. The place that was slowly, bit by bit, becoming his.
A yellow cab pulled up. "Town?" the driver asked. Alex nodded. "Yeah… let's go."
And with that, he slid into the back seat, leaned his head against the window, and let the lights of campus fade behind him.
Their room was dimly lit by the warm glow of the single lamp on the desk. The beds were unmade, clothes tossed in corners, textbooks stacked carelessly on chairs. The hum of a ceiling fan blended with the chirping of crickets outside the window. Mike flopped down on his bed with a dramatic sigh, hands behind his head. "That movie hit differently, not gonna lie," he muttered, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, especially that last part," Kenny said, kicking off his shoes and dropping onto his own mattress. "The way she just left him, like that." John was still at the desk, lazily scrolling through his phone. "Felt real," he said. "Kinda reminded me of something…" Kenny raised a brow. "What, Emily and Alex?"
Mike sat up. "Exactly what I was thinking. Bro, did you see how Emily was looking tonight? Especially when she caught Alex watching that girl?"
"Zara," John added without looking up.
"Yeah. That girl. Man, Emily was quiet the whole walk back." Mike lowered his voice, a little more serious. "You think she's still into him?"
"She is," Kenny said simply, lying back and folding his arms. "I don't think she ever stopped. But you know how she is—keeps it in until it spills."
There was a pause. The only sound was the lazy rhythm of the fan overhead.
John finally put his phone down. "Honestly… I feel for her. Alex doesn't even realize half of what's going on around him. He's still trying to find his footing."
"True," Kenny agreed. "But that girl—Zara—she's something. The way she smiled at him earlier? That wasn't random."
Mike chuckled. "I saw that too. Bro, even I felt it."
"Don't be stupid," Kenny smirked.
John leaned forward. "You know what I think? This might be good for Alex. A little push. A little shake-up. Sometimes it's the unexpected people who change your whole direction."
"You mean like a wealthy girl with a soft smile and an expensive hostel key?" Mike joked."Exactly," John nodded with a small grin.The room went quiet for a moment again. Each of them was lost in some private thought. Maybe about Alex. Maybe about themselves. Maybe about the way things never really go the way you plan in life—but somehow, it all still makes sense in the end.Mike stretched out on his bed. "Anyway, it's gonna be a crazy semester."
"Yeah," Kenny mumbled, already drifting. "Crazy good or crazy bad?"
"Depends," John whispered, switching off the lamp. The room slipped into darkness. "On who falls for who first."
The sunlight filtered through the tall cream-colored curtains of Room 3C in the Lavender Suites—a private hostel that shimmered with polish and prestige, nestled at the quieter end of campus. The morning breeze teased the edge of the satin curtain, brushing across the polished tiles and brushing gently against her bare feet as she stood on the balcony.
Zara.
That was her name.
Seventeen, elegant without trying, and dark-skinned like soft, polished mahogany. Her features held the grace of someone raised around refinement, but there was nothing arrogant about her. Her smile could soften anyone's mood; her presence was calm, almost grounding. She was the kind of girl who never needed to speak too loudly—people listened anyway.
She stood there in a silk robe, her long, curly hair still damp from her morning shower, sipping warm tea from a white porcelain cup. Behind her, soft R&B music floated from her phone, and the scent of expensive vanilla-scented lotion lingered in the air. Inside the room, her roommate, Chichi—a bubbly girl from a political family—was still rolling lazily in bed, half-scrolling through her socials.
"Zara," Chichi said in a yawn, "you're out there staring at trees like you're in a music video again."
Zara chuckled softly and turned back inside. "It's peaceful. Something about mornings like this… makes me feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be."
Chichi sat up, eyeing her. "That smile though… you saw someone , didn't you?"
Zara raised a brow but didn't say anything. "Girl, don't even lie. I saw you pause when we were walking past those engineering boys. You were making a call, but I swear—your mind was not on that phone."
Zara laughed quietly, her eyes falling briefly to the silver bracelet on her wrist. "He was just... looking at me."
Chichi leaned forward dramatically. "Spill it."Zara sat on the edge of her bed, running her fingers across her book-covered desk. "I saw him before. On a bus. Months ago. He looked like he was on his first journey to the moon. Scared, but curious. He didn't speak to me then."
"And yesterday?"
"He still didn't speak. But I caught him staring again. Not in a creepy way... it was like he remembered."
"Is he cute?" Chichi smirked.
Zara nodded with a gentle smile. "He's not like the ones we see around here flaunting money and fake accents. He looks real. I don't know... something about him felt familiar."
Chichi laughed, tossing a pillow at her. "Girl, you're catching feelings for a stranger. Classic campus fairytale beginning." Zara grinned. "Maybe. Or maybe it's just curiosity."
Her phone buzzed. A calendar reminder: Literature class at 10 a.m.
She got up and started getting ready, her room a blend of luxury and quiet simplicity. Everything about her world spoke of wealth—but Zara never let it define her. She had everything she needed, but what she wanted… well, that was still unfolding. And somewhere, just across campus, was a boy who didn't know he had stayed in her thoughts long after that first silent bus ride.The hallway to the nursing science building buzzed with the usual Monday chatter. Students moved in clusters, holding textbooks, half-finished breakfast in paper wraps, or just animated conversations about lecturers and upcoming lab sessions.
Zara walked gracefully between the crowd, her books pressed lightly against her chest. She wore a crisp, pale blue shirt and high-waisted black trousers, her ID card swinging gently as she moved. Beside her, her closest friend Clara walked with a bit more bounce, designer tote bag in hand."Are you finally going to give kunle a chance?" Clara asked, adjusting her hoop earrings. "He literally reserved a seat for you in class last week."
Zara sighed, her tone calm but steady. "He's not my type."
Clara rolled her eyes. "He's rich. Your type should be rich."Zara turned her head slightly. "We're all nursing students here, Clara. If I was chasing wallets, I'd be in business school."They laughed, but Zara's mind was already drifting.
Kunle—loud, flashy, and always two steps ahead of every gossip—had been clinging around her since orientation week. He wasn't rude, but his presence was too much. He always tried too hard. He wanted everyone to see him whenever he spoke to her. just the boy from yesterday
She blinked, her pace slowing as the thought settled back in her chest. The boy with the quiet smile. The one from the bus. He didn't even speak, but his eyes said more than Kunle had ever managed with all his boastful words.
She stepped into the lecture theatre, eyes scanning the seats. Most were filled already. And then—there he was.
Alex sat with his friends in the midsection of the hall. Kenny and Mike were arguing softly over a question from last week's quiz, while Angela leaned back, rolling a pen between her fingers. Emily, sitting beside Alex, looked ahead quietly.
Zara paused a heartbeat longer than necessary.Clara noticed.
"Okay, who's the statue?" she whispered, nudging her. "What are you staring at?"
"Nothing," Zara replied, her lips twitching in a smile as she moved to sit two rows ahead of Alex and his group.
Kunle was already waving from the far side of the room, but Zara pretended not to see him. Alex hadn't noticed her come in—until now. She settled in, her friends sliding into seats around her. The buzz of the room started to fade for Alex as his eyes caught the familiar figure.
It was her. Again.
This time, she wasn't walking past, she was sitting right there—just a few feet away. Something about the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The way she adjusted her notebook before class. It felt like a scene from his memories, like someone he'd known in another lifetime. Or maybe, just that one unforgettable ride. His chest rose slowly, thoughts loud but expression quiet.
Beside him, Mike leaned forward. "You good?" Alex nodded, but his eyes were still fixed. And for a fleeting moment, Zara turned—and their eyes met again.
A second too long.
A second too real.
And just like that, it was him who smiled first. Zara's lips curled into a soft smile in return—small, quiet, meaningful.
Then, the lecturer walked in.
"Good morning, class. Let's settle down…"
But for both of them, the lesson was already happening.The lecture hall slowly emptied as the lecturer clicked off the projector and gathered her notes. Students rose from their seats in pairs and groups, chatting about the class, gossiping quietly, or scrolling on their phones. The nursing course had been intense that morning—a deep dive into clinical pharmacology that had left more than a few minds spinning.
Emily stretched her arms above her head, stifling a yawn. "That felt like an entire semester in one class," she murmured, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
"I'm not even sure I blinked," Angela said beside her, flipping her notebook shut. "If we get a quiz on this, I might just faint."
Kenny, Mike, and John joined them near the hallway, with Alex trailing a step behind. He had that same quiet focus he always carried—attentive but reserved, always thinking."Guys," Mike said, "don't pack your stuff yet. Remember they said we're heading to the lab after this."
"Oh right," John nodded. "The pairing."
Lab sessions had a way of either sparking excitement or mild dread. Today's was especially important—it involved skill-based activities and direct interaction, which meant no one could blend into the background. Everyone had to work, and more importantly, work with someone else. The group headed down the corridor toward the nursing lab block, sunlight pouring through the large windows, casting gold across the tiled floors. At the lab doors, a sheet was already pinned to the wall.
LAB PAIRING LIST: Clinical Practice Module - Group A
Angela moved in first, scanning for names. "Alright," she said. "Let's see how much fate likes us today."
One by one, the names came into view.
Angela spun around, eyebrow raised. "Emily and Alex?"
Mike snorted. "Omo! That one go be interesting." Emily glanced at Alex. He looked… surprised. But not upset. Maybe even a little pleased, though he tried to hide it behind a modest nod.
"I guess we're stuck together," she said, managing a small smile.
Alex nodded. "I don't mind."
Zara, reading the list beside Chichi, gave a soft sigh—relieved, maybe, to not be paired with the persistent classmate who'd been chasing her attention for weeks. Still, she gave a curious glance in Emily and Alex's direction.
Everyone filed into the lab, pulling on their white coats and gloves. The instructors gave quick directions, and before long, each pair had found their workstation, medical kits laid out and tasks assigned. Emily and Alex set up beside a window. As they organized their instruments, there was a short pause between them. "I didn't expect this pairing," Emily said, voice calm.
"Neither did I," Alex replied. He looked at her, not as the girl from the city or the girl with wealthy parents, but simply as Emily—his friend, his… something more, maybe. For a moment, as they began their task—checking vitals, preparing syringes, measuring dosages—it felt like the air between them was different. Gentle. Familiar. Unspoken memories hung like threads around them, but neither pulled on them just yet.
Across the lab, Angela glanced over and smiled faintly. Maybe fate had made a choice today.The light filtering through the lab's tall windows flickered gently on the metal trays and white-coated shoulders of the students. A quiet hum filled the room—gloves snapping on, drawers sliding open, low murmurs between partners. Emily and Alex stood at their station, each focused on preparing their equipment. She reached for the blood pressure cuff just as he did, their hands brushing. "Sorry," she said, pulling back with a soft laugh. Alex gave a quick smile. "No, I should've waited."
There was a pause.
Emily glanced sideways at him. "You've gotten better at this," she noted, nodding toward the way he organized the instruments. "I remember the first time we did this—you put the stethoscope on backward." He chuckled. "Don't remind me. I went home thinking I had a hearing problem."She smiled at the memory. "I was going to tell you, but… you looked so serious." Alex looked at her then. "I think I was nervous that day."
"You? Nervous?" she teased.
"Yeah. I guess… maybe because you were the one beside me." Emily's smile faltered—just slightly—and her eyes dropped to the cuff in her hands. Her voice was softer when she spoke again. "You know, I've missed this."
"This?"
"This… comfort. Us talking. Working side by side without pretending there's nothing between us." Alex looked at her carefully, unsure whether to say what had been sitting on his chest for weeks now. "I thought… after what happened, after that day at the lounge…" he began, then stopped. "I never meant for things to get weird," Emily said quickly. "And I… about the kiss with that guy—it wasn't what it seemed." He nodded slowly. "You don't owe me an explanation, Em."
"I know," she said, meeting his eyes now, her tone firmer. "But I want to give one. Because you mattered. You still do."
Their gaze lingered—a thousand things unspoken between them—but the instructor's voice cut through the moment. "Alex, Emily—are you ready for the practice check?"
"Yes, ma'am," they answered together.
Emily turned, but as she fitted the cuff around his arm, she whispered, "There's still something here, Alex. I don't know what we'll do about it yet… but I just want you to know that." He looked at her, a quiet warmth softening his chest. "I feel it too." The moment was fragile, like morning light on glass. And yet, in the quiet efficiency of clinical tasks, in the shared focus and calm understanding, something unspoken rekindled between them—tentative, but real.
The room gradually settled into a rhythm of closing notes—voices dimmed to murmurs, equipment was wiped and returned to drawers, and gloves were peeled off with soft snaps and tossed into bins. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, faint but familiar. Emily carefully documented the results of their session in her lab book while Alex sat across from her, rolling the now-loosened cuff from his arm and watching her fingers move with their usual grace—sure, efficient, calm. "Looks like we nailed everything," she said, glancing up with a small smile.
"I didn't mess anything up this time," he joked. Emily laughed gently, her eyes lighting up in that way that always made Alex forget everything else.
"No, you didn't," she said. "You've come a long way.""So have you."
They exchanged a look—mutual respect, maybe something more—but neither pushed it further.At the next table, Kenny groaned dramatically. "If I had to check Mike's pulse one more time, I'd declare him legally dead."
"Only because you kept losing count," Mike replied, shoving his notebook into his bag. Angela and John were already halfway done cleaning their station. Angela peeked over at Emily and Alex, her brows rising slightly, but she said nothing. Just nudged John and whispered something that made him smirk.
As Emily closed her notebook and began packing up her gloves and tools, Alex took a moment longer. He wasn't in a hurry to leave. Not today.
"I like this," he said softly.
Emily turned to him. "What?"
"This… partnership. Working with you. It just… fits."She paused, looking at him for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "It does." Angela's voice cut in. "Em, you ready?" Emily nodded and turned toward the group, but not before looking back one last time. "See you at lunch?"
Alex smiled, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Yeah. I'll be there."
And with that, the group moved out, filing toward the door with the easy rhythm of students navigating yet another long day of classes. But for Alex and Emily, something had shifted—nothing loud or dramatic. Just the quiet return of a rhythm they both missed, like the heartbeat under a stethoscope: steady, familiar, and still there.The midday sun stretched shadows along the walkway as Alex, Kenny, Mike, and John strolled out of the lab building. Their white nursing coats were folded over their arms, and their footsteps fell in sync, sneakers scuffing lightly against the concrete.
"Another lab done, gentlemen," Kenny declared, stretching his arms above his head. "I can already feel the weekend calling me."
"You mean the food from the cafeteria?" Mike shot back. "That's the only thing that calls you."
"Food is part of the weekend experience," Kenny said with mock offense. "A man needs to feed the mind and the stomach." John chuckled, slapping a hand on Kenny's shoulder. "You fed both last night with that ten-minute motivational speech on why you needed a second plate." They all laughed, but Alex's was quieter—more of a smile than a sound. His hands were in his pockets, eyes drifting across campus as they walked. He looked like he was listening, but something about his silence made Mike glance at him sideways.
"You good, bro?" Mike asked casually.
Alex blinked, as though pulled from a thought. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"Hmm." John exchanged a look with the others. "You've been kinda spaced out since the lab. Emily didn't accidentally prick you with a syringe or something?"
Alex gave a small smile. "Nah. Just... thinking." Kenny elbowed him. "Let me guess. Pretty girl. Deep thoughts. Complicated feelings. All that poetic stuff."
Alex chuckled. "It's not that poetic."
"But you are thinking about someone, aren't you?" John added, not teasing—just curious. Alex hesitated. Then, quietly, "Yeah." Kenny grinned. "Is this about Emily?"
Alex paused. "Not exactly."
That made the others slow slightly. Mike's brow lifted. "Not exactly?"
"There's this girl," Alex finally admitted. "She was on the bus the day I came to the city. I didn't know who she was then. But now I keep seeing her around campus. Today, she passed by again... and smiled at me." Kenny gave a low whistle. "That sounds like destiny stuff."
"I thought I imagined it," Alex said softly. "But today… she looked right at me. And I remembered. Same smile."
The others were quiet for a moment.
Then John said, "So, what now?"
Alex shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted to talk to her today. I was ready to. But you guys showed up—laughing, loud, doing your thing."
"Ohhh," Mike groaned. "So we're the problem now?"
"No," Alex laughed, lifting his hands. "Just bad timing."
Kenny nodded slowly. "We need to help this boy make his move. Operation Mystery Girl begins."
john laughed. "Let's not scare her off before he even gets to say 'hi.'"
They all laughed again, but this time Alex's smile lingered longer. For all the noise, the teasing, the distractions, there was comfort here—brothers he never asked for but somehow got anyway.
And for now, that was enough.The corridor echoed faintly with laughter and distant chatter as Zara stepped out of her last lecture, her books pressed neatly to her chest. The afternoon sun filtered through the tall glass windows, casting golden light on the polished floors. Her long braids brushed her shoulders, and her soft, dark skin glowed under the warmth. Every step she took was graceful, calm—yet her mind was elsewhere.
"Zara!" one of her friends called behind her. It was Amanda—light-skinned, always dressed in designer labels, the scent of imported perfume trailing her. Beside her was Clara(Chichi), petite and bubbly, constantly glued to her phone screen.
Zara paused, allowing them to catch up.
"You're walking too fast again," Amanda said, adjusting her oversized sunglasses. "Why do you always act like you're escaping something?"
Zara gave a gentle smile. "Maybe I'm just escaping the noise."
Clara laughed. "You mean us?"
"No," Zara said, still smiling. "Well… maybe a little."
They all laughed, but Zara's thoughts were already drifting again.
They began walking toward the café across from their faculty building—The Orchid Lounge, a chic space where students from wealthier backgrounds often gathered. The same place Zara found herself in more out of obligation than desire. She didn't mind the comfort, but some days, it felt like another mask she had to wear. As they entered, the waiter greeted them with familiarity and guided them to their usual booth.
Amanda was already talking about their class group project, but Zara's attention slipped the moment she glanced across the café window—and saw him.
Alex.
He was outside, standing near a water dispenser with a few guys—she didn't know their names, but they always looked close. He was laughing at something one of them said, rubbing the back of his neck, his white nursing coat folded in his arm. Zara's heart did something small but noticeable in her chest. She remembered that smile—how he had looked at her earlier that day when she was answering a call. The way he stared as though he was searching for something, then realizing she was what he'd been looking for. She had smiled at him.
It had felt right.
"Zara, what do you think?" Amanda's voice snapped her back.
"Hmm?"
"About picking Leon for our project group," Amanda said, lowering her voice slightly. "He's been asking about you again, you know. He keeps saying he wants to partner with you."
Clara grinned. "He's not bad, Z. Tall, rich, drives his own car, and obviously obsessed with you."
Zara looked at them both, then out the window again. Alex was gone.
She spoke quietly. "I'm not interested in kunle."
Amanda sighed, clearly used to hearing that.
"But he's so—"
"He's not what I want," Zara cut in gently but firmly. The truth was… she didn't even know what exactly she wanted yet. But she knew what she didn't want. A life dictated by status. A relationship shaped by money. She wanted connection, something real. And today, for a fleeting moment, it felt like something real looked at her. And smiled.The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the room as Zara lay curled on her side, her phone resting in her hand. The room was dimly lit, curtains drawn. Outside, the city beyond campus buzzed quietly, muffled by the thick walls of her upscale hostel. Her designer tote bag sat on the desk, half-open, her books untouched since she returned. She hadn't had the energy to study. Her thoughts were too loud. She unlocked her phone and opened her chat with Mira, her childhood friend who studied in another university across the country. Mira had always been her person—the one who knew Zara beneath all the labels, beneath the polished exterior.
Zara:
You ever meet someone and feel like you've met them before... even though you haven't?
She paused, staring at the blinking cursor. Then added:
Zara:
It's not even about love or anything like that. Just... this strange connection. Familiar. Comforting.
The reply came almost instantly.
Mira:
Now I have to hear this story 😏 Who's this mysterious stranger?
Zara smiled faintly and turned on her side.
Zara:
He's in my class. Nursing.
I think I saw him months ago on the bus when I was coming back from a visit home. I barely remembered him... until today.
He was looking at me like he knew me. Like we were part of something before.
Mira:
👀 Ooooh. I like this. What's his name??
Zara hesitated.
Zara:
Alex.
I don't even know his last name yet.
Mira:
Zara 😭
You, the queen of knowing everything about a guy before you even say hi, don't know his last name?? This is serious.
So… what's the catch?
Zara sighed. She could almost hear Mira's teasing voice.
Zara:
He's quiet. Not flashy. Not like the guys we hang around.
But he seems… grounded. Kind.
Like someone who's seen things.
Mira:
Girl. You're describing a Wattpad main character rn.
Zara:
😂 Stop.
Zara:
It's just… nice.
To feel this way. Even if it's just for a second.
She locked her phone and stared at the ceiling.
Was it possible to feel safe in someone's presence before you even knew them?
She didn't know what Alex's story was. But something in her wanted to find out.
And maybe… just maybe… he wanted to find out hers, too.The room was dim, with the gentle flicker of her study lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. Angela was in the bathroom brushing her teeth, humming lightly, unaware of the silence that had settled over Emily.
Emily sat cross-legged on her bed, her open notebook in her lap, but the words on the page had long stopped making sense. Her eyes kept drifting to the faint reflection in the window—the same blank expression she'd worn since they got back from class. That smile Alex had earlier...
It hadn't been for her.
Not today.
It was meant for her. That girl. The one who had smiled back.
Zara.
Emily had watched it unfold like someone quietly eavesdropping on a song they weren't invited to sing. The way Alex had looked at her—subtle, but soft, like recognition. Like awe. She'd never seen him look that way at anyone. Not even her. Angela stepped out and paused when she saw Emily still in the same position. She walked to the edge of her bed and tilted her head. "Em? You've been on that page for like twenty minutes." Emily blinked, realizing her fingers had gone cold around her pen.
"I'm fine," she murmured.
Angela raised a brow but didn't push. She sat down beside her. "You saw it too, huh?" Emily didn't respond immediately. But she didn't need to. Angela's voice was gentle. "You still feel something for him, don't you?" Emily's chest rose, then fell slowly. "I don't know what I feel anymore," she whispered. "I thought I had moved on. I tried to. After that kiss with Bryan…" She shook her head. "It didn't mean anything. I thought maybe it would help me forget, but it didn't. It made everything more confusing." Angela waited, allowing the silence to fill in the gaps between words. "When Alex and I used to talk... really talk... it felt real," Emily continued. "Like he saw me beyond everything. Beyond the name, beyond the money, beyond... the expectations. And then we drifted. I don't even know how."
She looked down at her lap, her voice quieter now. "And today… when I saw him look at her... it stung."
Angela gently placed a hand over hers.
"It's okay to feel that, Em. You cared. Maybe you still do." Emily offered a small, sad smile. "Maybe. But maybe it's too late." Angela looked at her for a moment, then said, "Maybe it's not."