...There was a moment of silence between us. After a while I broke it, "Okay, so Mr.Crazy, what makes you think that if you break up with Chiamaka, I'll date you?"

"You feel the same way about me", he said inching closer.

"What?" I asked my heart rate accelerating. 

"Don't you?" He asked. My breathing increased. His face was now less than an inch from mine. 

He tilted my head up a bit and I drew in a breath knowing what was coming.

Before I could properly process my next line of action, he crashed his lips against mine. 

I shut my eyes at the feel of his lips against mine. I tried to steady my breath as my heart raced in my chest. I felt the urge to kiss back, and somehow, it felt right at that point...

****

When Chiamaka became friends with Alya, the last thing she expected was for her boyfriend, Ifeanyi, to rekindle the suppressed feelings he once had for her new best friend.

Alya, a pessimist in the making, who lacks interest in a majority of things happening around her never expected her last year in highschool to be any different from the rest of her years in school. In simple words, she expected NOTHING to happen. But life doesn't always work out as planned as she has to deal with a terrible slip of a long time secret, a crazy best friend and a crush she's not so sure of coupled with a sudden uninvited guest. Could she have been wrong to imagine her final year in highschool passing JUST LIKE THAT.

One Rocky Term

I returned to school when all my classmates had probably finished writing their JAMB. Alesscia didn't let me rest after she saw her JAMB score and she miraculously got three hundred and ten. 


She made such a noise about it, it was just left for her to write 310 on her forehead just so that the world could see her JAMB score. She even got 310 tattooed on her right arm. 


"The tattoo is nice isn't it?" She asked waving her hand in face so I could see the tattoo properly. 


"It's just numbers. There isn't anything so wow about having numbers tattooed on your arm." 


"Well it is better than that tattoo on your hand. I don't even know what it is, is it a sword or just the tattoo artist's mistake?" She asked. She just made a rude remark about the mark on my hand without really knowing it. 


"It's not a tattoo," I said. I wondered how in earth people kept mistaking a scar for a tattoo. 


Goodbyes or good riddance