THE APARTMENT – 7:00 PM
The apartment belonged to someone's older cousin. The same one from the party. Different night. Same energy. The lights were dim. The drinks were out. The music was low, almost absent.
Rose stood by the window, watching the door.
Kelly was on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Zara and Chloe sat on the floor, whispering. Nelly was in the corner, her arms crossed, her face unreadable.
The garden had gathered.
Rose turned around. "Thank you for coming."
No one answered.
"The Watchmen have a list," she continued. "Ten names. People they want to question. People they want to punish."
She walked to the center of the room.
"Some of those names are ours."
Zara looked up. "Who?"
"Vicky, for one."
The room murmured.
"Someone reported her," Rose said. "Something about her relationship with Aaron. Something about her 'unstable behavior.'"
"That's bullshit," Nelly said.
"Of course it's bullshit. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that someone talked."
Chloe raised her hand. "Do we know who?"
Rose looked at Kelly.
Kelly put down her phone. "Not yet. But we will."
The room went quiet.
Rose sat on the arm of the couch. "Here's what's going to happen. We're going to find out who talked. We're going to make sure they can't talk again. And we're going to protect our own."
"Protect them how?" Nelly asked.
Rose smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. "However we need to."
THE DORM – SAME TIME
Oliver sat on his bed, staring at his phone.
The results had been posted. He hadn't made the team. He'd read the list seven times. His name wasn't there.
Peculiar was on the floor, leaning against the wall, watching him.
"You're doing it again," she said.
"Doing what?"
"Staring at your phone like it killed your dog."
"I don't have a dog."
"Then like it killed your dream."
He put the phone down. "I didn't make the team."
"I know."
"I did everything right."
"I know."
"Their forwards were selfish."
"I know."
He looked at her. "Why do you keep saying that?"
"Because it's true. And because you need to hear it. You did everything right. You stayed clean. You worked hard. You wanted it more. And you still lost."
"That's not comforting."
"It's not supposed to be. It's just real."
He lay back on his bed. Stared at the ceiling.
"Now what?" he asked.
"Now you figure out what's next."
"What if I don't know?"
"Then you figure out how to figure it out."
He turned his head. Looked at her. "You're annoying."
"I'm honest. There's a difference."
"Not from where I'm sitting."
She smiled. "Good."
THE GIRLS' DORM – LATE EVENING
Vicky sat on her bed, her back against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest.
Zuru was on the floor, painting her nails. Zizi was reading. Ese was in the corner, her book open.
"You're quiet," Zuru said.
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
"About Aaron. About Mandy. About everything."
Zuru put down the nail polish. "You need to let him go."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know how."
Zuru stood up. Walked to Vicky's bed. Sat beside her.
"Listen to me," Zuru said. "You're not going to get closure. You're not going to get an apology that feels real. You're not going to get him back. The only thing you're going to get is more of the same. More lies. More manipulation. More pain."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've been watching. Because I've been watching him for months. Because he's not going to change. He's just going to get better at pretending."
Vicky's eyes were wet. "That's not true."
"It is true. And you know it."
Zuru stood up. Walked back to her spot.
Vicky stared at the wall.
Ese turned a page.
THE LECTURE HALL – NEXT MORNING
Dr. Adeola stood at the front of the class.
"Today we're talking about power," she said.
The class groaned.
"Not the boring kind. Not the kind you read about in textbooks. The real kind. The kind that happens between people. The kind that makes you do things you never thought you'd do."
She walked down the aisle. Her braids swung.
"Who here has ever been manipulated?"
No one raised their hand.
"Good. That's the first symptom. You don't know it's happening."
She stopped at Nelly's desk.
"Nelly. Have you ever manipulated someone?"
Nelly's throat tightened. "I don't think so."
"Then you're not paying attention."
Dr. Adeola moved on.
"The question isn't whether you've manipulated someone. The question is whether you know you've done it. And whether you care."
She reached the back of the room.
"Manipulation is just influence with bad intentions. And everyone influences everyone. All day. Every day. The only difference is intent."
She walked back to the front.
"So. Who here has bad intentions?"
No one raised their hand.
"Good. That's the second symptom."
THE CLINIC – AFTERNOON
Chuks was telling a story.
"So she says to me, 'Chuks, you're too much man for me.' And I say, 'Baby, that's not a complaint. That's a diagnosis.'"
The nurses laughed. Aaron didn't.
Chuks looked at him. "You're not laughing."
"I'm not in a laughing mood."
"You're never in a laughing mood."
"I'm in a thinking mood."
"Same thing."
"It's not."
Chuks leaned back in his chair. "What are you thinking about?"
Aaron was quiet for a moment. "How to get what I want without destroying everything."
"That's easy. You can't."
"I don't believe that."
"Then you're stupid. And I mean that with love."
"How do you get what you want?"
Chuks smiled. "I don't. I just want what I have."
"That's not helpful."
"It's not supposed to be. It's just true."
THE FIELD – LATE AFTERNOON
Football practice.
The team was running drills. Sprints. Passing. Shooting. The national competition was two weeks away. Coach Okafor was pushing them harder than ever.
Aaron stood at the center circle, watching his teammates.
Femi was fast. Kehinde was strong. Kosi was smart.
But they were missing something. A spark. A hunger. A willingness to bleed for each other.
"Captain," Coach said. "Gather them."
Aaron called his teammates in.
"We're not ready," he said.
"What do you mean?" Femi asked.
"I mean we're playing like individuals. Not like a team."
"We qualified, didn't we?"
"Qualifying isn't winning. Qualifying is just the beginning."
He looked at each of them.
"I'm not asking you to be perfect. I'm asking you to be present. For each other. For this team. For yourselves."
They were silent.
"Now run the drill again."
They ran.
THE DORM – EVENING
Charlie was on the phone with Josephine.
"Yeah," he said. "No, I get it. You're not looking for anything serious."
He listened.
"I'm not looking for anything serious either."
He listened again.
"I'm not lying."
He laughed.
"Okay, maybe I'm lying a little."
He hung up.
Wesley looked at him. "How did it go?"
"I don't know. She said she'd think about it."
"Think about what?"
"I don't know. That's the problem."
Oliver walked in. His face was pale. His hands were empty.
"You okay?" Charlie asked.
"I didn't make the team."
"We know."
"I mean I really didn't make the team. Someone else got my spot. Someone who didn't try out."
Wesley sat up. "What?"
"Coach's nephew. Walked in the day after tryouts. Took my spot."
Charlie stood up. "That's bullshit."
"It's nepotism. There's a difference."
"That's not a difference. That's an excuse."
Oliver sat on his bed. "I don't know what to do."
"You fight it," Charlie said.
"How?"
"You go to the dean. You make a complaint. You don't let them win."
Oliver looked at him. "And if I lose?"
"Then you lose. At least you tried."
Oliver was quiet for a long time.
"Okay," he said. "I'll try."
THE ABANDONED STUDIO – 9:00 PM
Mandy stood alone in the dark.
She'd texted Aaron. He hadn't replied. She'd called him. He hadn't picked up.
She was tired of waiting.
Her phone buzzed.
Aaron (9:05 PM): I can't do this right now.
Mandy (9:05 PM): Do what?
Aaron (9:06 PM): This. Us. Whatever we're doing.
Mandy (9:06 PM): We're not doing anything. You're the one who keeps coming back.
Aaron (9:07 PM): I know.
Mandy (9:07 PM): Then stop.
Aaron (9:08 PM): I can't.
Mandy (9:08 PM): Then stop pretending you want to.
She put down the phone.
The room was cold.
She wrapped her arms around herself.
THE DORM – 10:00 PM
Aaron sat on his bed, staring at the wall.
The conversation with Mandy played in his head.
I can't.
Then stop pretending you want to.
He didn't know what he wanted anymore.
Charlie was on his phone. Wesley was reading. Oliver was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey," Aaron said.
No one answered.
"Hey."
Charlie looked up. "What?"
"Do you ever feel like you're just... pretending?"
"Pretending what?"
"Pretending to be a person."
Charlie put down his phone. "Every day."
"Really?"
"Really. I pretend I'm confident. I pretend I'm funny. I pretend I don't care what people think."
"And does it work?"
"Sometimes. For a little while. Then I remember I'm just me."
Aaron looked at the wall.
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is. But it's better than the alternative."
"What's the alternative?"
"Being alone."
They sat in silence.
Oliver closed his eyes. Wesley turned a page.
Aaron picked up his phone.
He didn't text anyone.
He just held it.