Chapter one

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐥𝐚.

𝐀𝐥𝐥 rights 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫, 𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐄.

𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐥𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝟔𝐩𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭.

𝐓𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 main 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫.

𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭? 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆, 𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒇𝒇. 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕'𝒅 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚 𝒎𝒆. 𝑴𝒚 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖!

7:28 am

I don't have a bucket list, nothing physical, everything is all in my head. Engraved in my mind and they are: to avoid mom, go to school, avoid Kim, avoid Seun, come back home, and end it. ⁣

It's funny though, right? For a girl who loves writing so much, why won't I just write a list? For weeks upon weeks, all I've done was to write my story, bit by bit. 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅...⁣

My throat closes up like there's a cotton ball stuffed in there. I try to still my trembling lips and put on an I-don't-care mask as I shove my journal and camera into my backpack. But tears drop and this time it's hard to stop my hands from shaking.

𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒂 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇?!

But who am I kidding? I hardly eat and getting a good night's rest has been difficult for two months now. How can I when the nightmares won't stop? These things shouldn't even be happening, every time I see him, I'm reminded that this happened years ago.

One minute, I close my eyes with tears streaming down my cheeks and the next minute—if I'm lucky to get any sleep—I find myself standing with Demola, my baby brother in the middle of an expanse of grassland. Most times, I try to hold him and tell him I'm sorry, but then he keeps disappearing into thin air. Last night though, I held his small, cold hand and followed him.⁣

⁣⁣

A sign… it's all I ever needed. You can ask the universe for all the signs, but ultimately, we see one when we are ready to see it. I have seen the sign, and it's time to join him.⁣

𝑺𝒏𝒊𝒇, 𝒔𝒏𝒊𝒇.

I swallow the lump in my throat as the pink, empty walls in my room blur beneath my tears. The walls are blank now: Nicki's, B.O.B's, and a ton of movie posters on my walls are gone now. So are my pictures, shoes, and clothes—all gone! All packed into boxes and hidden in the bathroom.⁣

My eyelids flutter, and more tears fall. It's like something is right there, in my chest twisting over and over and I can't stop it. It's the type of pain that doesn't just tug at your heart, but it sits there, waiting until the end. ⁣

⁣

I move to the mirror, sniffing and wiping the running snorts off my nose with the collar of my shirt. It stinks like sweat and weed. The odor is enough to make a non-smoker puke, but for me, it makes me feel better. It's the only way to push everyone away and hide my scars. The scars that created the new Lola Dideolu.⁣

⁣

Isn't it crazy how things change? Former Lola would strive to look happy even if it means partying, drinking, smoking, and all sorts, but now Lola is skinny with papery skin. ⁣

⁣

I sigh, pick my backpack on the bed, head out of the room, and as much as I try keeping my hands anywhere but my hair but I can't. So I run my hands over my kinky hair each step of the way then wipe my cheeks dry. ⁣

⁣

Downstairs, my mom—clad in her grey dress-uniform, an apron around the waist and hair packed in a neat bun–is arranging the cutlery on the dining table. This means Mr. and Mrs. Carter will be out at any moment for coffee.⁣

⁣

A weight settles on my heart when a spoon falls from her shaky hand, causing a loud clatter. I make a move to help her but stop, remembering the things she said last night: "𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍." ⁣

"Yea," Seun's voice floats into the dining area, making my brain stutter for a moment as every part of me goes on pause while my thoughts catch up. I should go back to my room, let him leave the dinning.

"Yes, the locker. Do it," Seun continues past my mom, his voice creating a crawling feeling all over my skin.

⁣

I wait until my mom leaves for the kitchen too then clench the straps of my backpack and quietly ran for the door and out into the warm morning. Seun mustn't see me. Last night, I did something I had never imagined doing—I walked out on him. He would have been thrilled beyond words if he saw me now. I can already guess what he would say to me with that irritating, taunting tone of his. "𝑯𝒆𝒚𝒚𝒚, 𝑳𝒐𝒍𝒂." That voice sends chills through my bones every single time. ⁣

I hate him. I hate Seun so much I want to do something terrible... anything that stops him from breathing.⁣

I quicken my pace through the tree-lined driveway and the ornate main gate and glance at the beige, stone, and brick mansion one last time. It's hard to keep going even though I can never get used to the lavishness that is everywhere in the Carters' house, this is my home too. This morning, I'm walking out of here but tonight things will be different for everyone, even for the Carter family.⁣

⁣

The almost-quietness in the neighborhood is deafening; I can only hear Mrs. Montgomery's heels clicking on the tarred road as she tried getting her two young boys into the vehicle. ⁣

⁣

They don't listen; they never do, no matter how much she screams. She's a stoic kind of person who thinks everyone should bow to her wishes, but it surprises me her children never listen to her. Mrs. Montgomery visits Seun's mom once in a while, not because they like each other though (I've caught her glaring at Mrs. Carter) but because they love to gossip. It's what the rich people in Castle-way do when they aren't outside the country on vacation.⁣

⁣

Mrs. Montgomery claps, "Get back here." She barks, storming towards the car door, but before opening it, one of her sons run towards the street as a man driving white, moving-van punches the horn and stops before crushing him.

⁣

"Frank!" Mrs. Montgomery cries as a man wearing washed-out jeans rushes out of the van. "Oh, God!" he says.⁣

⁣

I'm frozen to a spot, and it takes every nerve in me to look away. I'm too dazed to do anything, not even to rush over and help the kid. It's too much for me. Seeing the kid struggle to get up brings back haunting memories, I've tried so hard to bury.⁣

𝑵𝒐. 𝑵𝒐. 𝑵𝒐. I swallow. 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕.

⁣

I can see Demola's face.

𝑵𝒐. 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎.⁣

⁣

Demola's lying in a pool of blood.⁣

⁣

𝑵𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚.⁣

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕—⁣

The blaring sound of a car horn jolts me out of the torturous memory. My shoulders stiffen when I remember it could be Seun, but on turning, I see Ayo, Seun's twin brother, driving slowly next to me. My body slumps and a slight groan escapes my mouth. ⁣

But then again, I tense. It's Ayo. He's still a Carter. He shares a family with my nemesis, and no matter how much they hate each other's guts, Ayo can never be my friend.

"The weather guy says it'll rain today," he says, and on instinct, I look at the clear blue sky then frown at him. "So... you need a ride? Look, I know you won't answer me, but I won't leave you."⁣

⁣

You sound like a stalker. I want to say to him rather, I say, "No, " my voice is calm but firm. ⁣

⁣

I don't need a ride, but will he ever stop trying? Doubt it. For two months now, ever since he found me crying that night, he's been trying so hard to play nice. Talk about being a coward. He waited until Seun and I were officially done. ⁣

⁣

Whatever his problem is, I don't care, and he shouldn't too. It's not like he knows what my plans are, but if he doesn't stop knocking on my door, offering me a ride or sitting behind me in class, he may hinder everything⁣

⁣

Ayo rests his arm on the car door, plastering his face with a smile. "Please, get in. You know it's faster."⁣

⁣

I cross my arms over my chest, watching him as he replaces his right hand on the steering then fingers his honey brown curls. He doesn't pack it up with a rubber band this time, he lets his hair rumple down at the sides of his face, cupping his high cheekbones.⁣

⁣

"Lola?"⁣

⁣

"Go away, Ayo," I scowl at him, clenching the straps of my backpack. ⁣

⁣

"C'mon, get in. I want to help," he says. "Pay me. I can be your taxi driver. So get in."⁣

⁣

I hate it when someone tries to tell me what to do. It makes me feel worthless like a dummy that can't think without someone's help. Maybe I'm a failure, but still... I hate the feeling of being controlled or restrained. It reminds me of everything. It reminds me of Seun.⁣

⁣

A small wind swings the trees on the sidewalk and swirls the leaves on the floor. I keep my head down as tears threaten to fall again. 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈. ⁣

"Don't do this to yourself," Ayo breathes hard. Is he mad at me? Oh no, he has no right to get mad at me. "Who prefers walking to getting a ride? I'm trying to help. Stop acting like this."⁣

⁣

Ayo is right. My gut keeps churning, and my legs are weak. Each step I take reminds me I'm fragile and hungry, but at the sight of food, my appetite disappears. Yea, I do need a ride, but I won't take any help from him.⁣

⁣

"Thank you very much; I can walk."⁣

⁣

Why does he suddenly want to be my friend? I'm just their maid's daughter, and if we never left Nigeria for the United States, we would never have met. He's way out of my league, the same with Seun, and if I had listened to mom, maybe I won't be this broken. ⁣

⁣⁣

"I tried," he grunts, and I don't have to look at his face to know what he's thinking or know how hurt he is. I expect him to speed past me, but he doesn't. Just go, Ayo.⁣

⁣⁣

I'm about to pull out my earpiece and phone from my backpack when I spot Seun's red Jeep wrangler from the side view, leaving their compound. ⁣

⁣

My blood turns chill. I turn to Ayo, who catches my eyes and for some reason, worry crosses his face. He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it. ⁣

⁣

I glance over my shoulder again. Oh, no. Seun is closing in. My gaze cuts back to Ayo, and I can't help the way my legs tremble as if they've been dipped in a bucket of ice. ⁣

⁣

"Ayo, wait," I run to the passenger's side, tap the door, and as soon as he stops, I get in and slide down the seat, so Seun won't see me. As soon as Seun's car buzzes by I sit up. "T-thanks," ⁣

⁣

I feel like an idiot sitting next to Ayo as he stares at me. It's right there, in his face. He wants to talk. The universe must be having a field day already because one minute I don't want his help, and now, look at me. I'm nothing but a scared chicken, and once again, Ayo is saving me like always. ⁣

⁣

He clears his throat as we move. ⁣

⁣

"So..." he trails off as his gaze bounces around before finding me again. "You okay? Right?"⁣

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I nod and sit forward, trying to take my backpack off my back so I can get my phone and earpiece. Ayo clears his throat again. "Why are you scared of him?"⁣

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I say nothing. I understand why I'm scared of Seun, but the reasons are meant to be buried. ⁣

⁣

"Just..." I trail off, running my palm over my hair. "Drop it."⁣