The café was small, tucked behind the Faculty of Arts building, quiet enough that our voices didn't have to fight the noise. Josh ordered for both of us without asking, and somehow got my favorite drink right.
We talked. About classes, lecturers, childhood embarrassments, music. It felt… easy. Too easy.
And that scared me.
When I finally checked the time, nearly an hour had passed.
"I should go," I said, pushing my hair back.
Josh leaned forward, eyes locked on my. "Can I see you again?"
My chest tightened. Wendu's face flashed in my mind, the way my eyes had darkened that day in the car. I could almost hear my voice—sharp, warning, possessive.
But Josh's hand was already on the table, close enough that if I moved mine just slightly, we'd touch.
"Bimbo?" he asked gently.
For the briefest moment, I wanted to say yes.
Instead, I stood, gathering my books. "I'll think about it."
---
Outside, as I crossed the road back to campus, a car horn blared.
Her stomach dropped.
It was Wendu's car. Parked a few feet away. Window down. Eyes burning through her like fire.
I froze, caught between the café behind me and the storm waiting ahead.
…..
The student conference buzzed with voices, scattered laughter, and the scrape of chairs. I sat quietly at the back, my notebook open though my attention drifted. I was used to keeping a low profile—observing rather than joining in.
"Hey, pretty."
I turned. A tall boy with confident shoulders and an easy smile was watching me
"Hi… you again. At the student conference meeting?"
"Yeah," he said, slipping into the seat beside me. "I've been watching from afar. You're… abstruse." He smirked at his choice of word. "I get it—you're new, still settling. But making a few friends isn't prohibited."
"You spying on me?" I asked, arching a brow.
"I wish I was," he chuckled, "but I've got better things to do than stalk. I'm the student president "
"Oh… nice meeting you," I replied with a smirk, already rising to leave. Student counsellor, student president—it didn't matter. That was his business, not my.
I could almost hear my own thoughts whispering as I walked away: I'm yet to do all I wish for. Still studying this world I found myself in. Maybe my family curse is still on me. Maybe that's why I can't find a friend—not with Wendu shadowing me everywhere.
Later that week, his voice found me again.
"Hi again. Can we just talk?"
"The student secretary? I thought the stairs were too high for you to come down."
He winced. "I'm sorry."
"You've been stalking me. Say it."
"I like you. That doesn't mean I've been stalking you. I just… see you around."
I tilted my head, hiding a smile. "Okay." I tried to walk past him, but he caught my hand gently.
"Come down to my level, mister," I teased with a smirk.
He grinned. "I'm Ike. Third year."
That startled me—same level as Wendu.
"I'm Bim," I said. He was cute—too cute, with the same look as my crush, Jobe Bellingham, the footballer. I laughed to myself. I do have an eye for good things, right?
We exchanged contacts and went our separate ways. For the first time, I had made a friend of my own.