CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THREE: A LITTLE DISTANCE
The next few weeks passed quietly.
At least, that was how they seemed at first.
Samuel and I were still together.
We still sat beside each other in class. We still exchanged little notes when lessons became boring. He still teased me whenever I made a mistake, and I still threatened to ignore him whenever he became too annoying.
Nothing had ended.
Nothing had even started going badly.
But something was different.
I just couldn't put my finger on it.
It began with little things.
Samuel used to ask me how my morning had been almost every day.
Now, sometimes, he would sit down beside me without saying anything.
It wasn't rude.
It wasn't cold.
It was simply... different.
At first, I told myself I was imagining it.
After all, people had bad days.
Nobody could be cheerful all the time.
One Tuesday morning, I arrived in class and found Samuel already seated.
"Good morning," I said.
He looked up.
"Morning."
I dropped my books on the desk.
"You're quiet."
"I'm fine."
I studied him.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
He opened his Mathematics notebook.
I nodded slowly.
"Okay."
I took my seat.
For a few minutes, neither of us spoke.
I tried to concentrate on my notes, but my eyes kept drifting towards him.
He seemed completely absorbed in his work.
Eventually, I leaned towards him.
"Samuel."
"Hm?"
"Are you angry with me?"
He looked at me in surprise.
"Angry?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Then why are you acting strange?"
He frowned.
"I'm not acting strange."
"You are."
He sighed.
"Floral, I'm just tired."
I immediately felt guilty.
"Oh."
He looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For making it seem like something was wrong."
I smiled faintly.
"It's okay."
He reached for his pen.
"I'll be fine."
I nodded.
That should have been the end of it.
But it wasn't.
Because the next day, it happened again.
And the day after that.
Sometimes, he was perfectly normal.
Other times, he seemed somewhere else entirely.
During Mathematics, I whispered a joke to him.
Usually, he would laugh.
That day, he barely smiled.
"You didn't hear me," I whispered.
"I heard you."
"You didn't laugh."
He looked at me.
"It wasn't that funny."
I stared at him.
"You're becoming rude."
That earned me a small smile.
"Maybe."
I smiled too.
For a moment, everything felt normal again.
Then the teacher called us to attention.
I turned towards the board.
But something remained unsettled inside me.
At break, I stayed behind to finish an assignment.
Samuel packed his books.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Canteen."
"With who?"
He paused.
"Some of the boys."
I nodded.
"Okay."
He walked away.
I watched him leave.
It was such a simple thing.
He was going to the canteen with his friends.
There was nothing wrong with it.
Still, I remembered how he used to ask me if I wanted anything before leaving.
Now, he didn't.
I tried to ignore the thought.
A few minutes later, Victoria and Morayo came over.
Morayo dropped into the seat in front of me.
"You're quiet."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
Victoria leaned against the desk.
"Something happened?"
I shook my head.
"No."
Morayo narrowed her eyes.
"You're lying."
"I am not."
"You have that face."
"What face?"
"The face you make when you're thinking too much."
I laughed.
"That's ridiculous."
Victoria smiled.
"She does have a thinking-too-much face."
I closed my book.
"Nothing happened."
Morayo glanced towards the door.
"Samuel?"
I immediately frowned.
"What about him?"
"You looked at the door when I mentioned him."
"I was not looking at the door."
"You were."
I shook my head.
"You people should leave me alone."
They laughed.
I tried to laugh with them.
But inside, I wondered whether they had noticed what I had been trying not to notice.
Samuel was changing.
Or maybe I was simply becoming more aware of him now that we were together.
Before we started dating, I could have spent an entire day wondering what he was thinking.
Now that he was my boyfriend, I expected to know.
Perhaps that was the problem.
Expectations.
They had entered our relationship quietly.
I expected him to talk to me.
I expected him to notice when I was upset.
I expected him to tell me when something was wrong.
And when he didn't, I began to wonder why.
That evening during prep, Samuel was unusually quiet again.
I worked through a difficult Chemistry question.
After several attempts, I finally solved it.
I nudged his arm.
"Look."
He glanced at my book.
"You got it."
"I know."
"You sound proud."
"I am."
He smiled.
"Good."
I waited.
He returned to his work.
I stared at him.
"That is all?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know."
He laughed quietly.
"You're funny."
I frowned.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He continued writing.
I looked down at my own book.
Something about the conversation had felt wrong.
Not terrible.
Just incomplete.
I wondered whether I was expecting too much.
Maybe relationships were not supposed to feel exciting every single day.
Maybe this was simply what happened when the excitement of becoming a couple faded.
People became comfortable.
They became ordinary.
Perhaps that was normal.
But I didn't want ordinary to mean distant.
That night in the hostel, I climbed onto my bunk.
Gift was below me, folding her clothes.
"Floral?"
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
She looked up.
"Is Samuel okay?"
I froze.
"You noticed?"
Gift shrugged.
"A little."
I sat up.
"What do you mean?"
"He just seems distracted lately."
I stared at the ceiling.
"So it's not just me."
Gift shook her head.
"I didn't say anything was wrong."
"I know."
She folded another piece of clothing.
"Maybe he's just tired."
"That's what he said."
"Then believe him."
I was silent.
Gift looked up at me.
"You know, not everything means something bad."
I nodded.
"I know."
But knowing something and feeling it were two completely different things.
The next morning, I decided I would stop overthinking.
If Samuel said he was fine, I would believe him.
If he needed space, I would give him space.
If he was tired, I would let him rest.
I would not become the kind of girlfriend who questioned every expression and every silence.
So when I arrived in class and saw him already seated, I simply smiled.
"Morning."
"Morning."
I sat beside him.
"How are you?"
"Fine."
I nodded.
"Good."
And I left it there.
For the first time in days, I didn't ask another question.
Samuel looked at me.
"You're quiet."
I smiled.
"You said you were tired, remember?"
He stared at me.
"Yeah."
"So I'm not disturbing you."
He smiled.
"Thank you."
I nodded.
The lesson began.
I concentrated on my work.
For a while, everything was peaceful.
Then, halfway through the lesson, Samuel leaned towards me.
"Floral."
"Hm?"
"Are you angry with me?"
I looked at him.
"No."
"You seem different."
I almost laughed.
"So you can notice when I'm different?"
He smiled awkwardly.
"Of course."
I looked down at my book.
"I'm not angry."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
He nodded.
Then he reached under his notebook and passed me a small folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
I'm sorry if I've been distant.
I stared at the words.
Then I looked at him.
He was watching me.
I wrote beneath it.
Why are you distant?
I pushed it back.
He read it.
For a few seconds, he did not write anything.
Then he folded the paper and returned it.
I opened it.
I don't know. I'm just trying to figure some things out.
I read the sentence twice.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask.
What things?
Was it school?
His family?
Our relationship?
Something else?
But the teacher was standing nearby, so I slipped the paper into my notebook.
After the lesson, I turned to him.
"What things?"
He hesitated.
"I don't know how to explain it."
"Try."
He looked at me.
"I've just been thinking about the future."
"The future?"
"Yes."
I frowned.
"We're still in SS2."
"I know."
"So why are you thinking about the future now?"
He smiled faintly.
"Because everything is moving quickly."
I did not know what to say.
He continued.
"Sometimes I think about university. Exams. What happens after school."
I nodded slowly.
That made sense.
We were getting older.
Soon, school would not be the centre of our lives anymore.
But somehow, I still felt uneasy.
"Does that include us?"
He looked at me.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think about what happens to us?"
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
"I don't know."
Those three words hurt more than I expected.
I looked away.
"Okay."
"Floral—"
"No. It's fine."
"It isn't what you think."
"Then what is it?"
He was quiet.
"I just don't know what the future looks like."
I nodded.
"Neither do I."
We sat there silently.
For the first time since we started dating, I realised that being together did not mean we would always have the same thoughts.
We could love each other and still be uncertain.
We could care about each other and still have fears.
The problem was that neither of us knew how to talk about those fears properly.
At the far end of the classroom, Daniel was packing his books.
Gift was beside him.
Daniel glanced towards us.
His eyes lingered for a moment.
Then he looked away.
I did not notice.
I was too busy staring at my own hands.
That afternoon, Samuel and I barely spoke.
Not because we were fighting.
Not because we were angry.
We simply didn't know what to say.
And that frightened me more than an argument would have.
Arguments could be solved.
Silence was harder.
By evening, I had convinced myself that everything would be fine.
People had difficult days.
Relationships had awkward moments.
Nobody knew exactly what the future held.
Perhaps Samuel and I simply needed time to adjust.
After prep, I walked back to the hostel with Victoria and Morayo.
Morayo was telling us a ridiculous story about something that had happened in class.
I laughed.
For a few minutes, I forgot about everything.
Then we reached the hostel.
I climbed onto my bunk and began arranging my books.
Gift looked up at me.
"You're thinking again."
I smiled.
"Maybe."
She laughed.
"You really think too much."
"Apparently."
She shook her head.
Then she returned to what she was doing.
I looked around the crowded room.
Girls were talking.
Some were folding clothes.
Others were preparing for bathing.
A prefect was telling everyone to keep the room tidy.
Everything was normal.
Yet I had a strange feeling.