BREWING STORM

Christine was rummaging through her locker when Sean’s voice broke through the morning chatter.

“Christine,” he said sharply.

She turned, startled. “Sean? Good morning.”

He crossed his arms, his expression stormy. “Can we talk?”

Christine hesitated. She hadn’t spoken much to Sean outside of group settings, and his sudden intensity was unnerving. “Uh, sure. What’s going on?”

He gestured toward an empty hallway. Reluctantly, she followed.

Once they were out of earshot, Sean turned to her, his frustration evident. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Christine blinked, confused. “Tell you what?”

“About Jide.” The name fell from his lips like a curse.

Her heart skipped a beat. “What about Jide?”

Sean scoffed. “Don’t play dumb, Christine. I know you two are a thing. Someone sent me a picture of you at that restaurant. And it wasn’t just a friendly dinner, was it?”

Christine’s stomach sank. Her mind immediately jumped to Adeze, the only person who might have known. “This isn’t any of your business,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Sean’s jaw tightened. “Not my business? I’ve been trying to get your attention since 10th grade, Christine. I’ve done everything short of shouting it from the rooftops. And you—you go for Jide? A nerd who couldn’t hold a conversation without stuttering in middle school?”

Christine’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t talk about him like that. Jide is kind and intelligent. And what I choose to do is none of your concern.”

Sean’s voice dropped, his desperation cutting through his anger. “Why him? What does he have that I don’t? Tell me, Christine. I need to know.”

She stepped back, crossing her arms defensively. “This isn’t about what you have or don’t have, Sean. You’re incredible, but that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to me or anyone else.”

His expression faltered, vulnerability peeking through his usual confidence. “So that’s it? I never had a chance?”

Christine sighed, her tone softening. “Sean, you’re an amazing person. I honestly do not know what you mean by having a chance or not. Plus it’s not about you being enough or not. It’s about what feels right.”

Sean’s hand clenched at his side, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice softer but more intense. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about us, Christine. Not even once?”

Christine hesitated, her heart pounding. “Sean… it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” he pressed. “Because of Jide? Or because you’re scared?”

Her eyes widened. “Scared? Of what?”

“Of feeling something real,” Sean said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You put up walls, Christine. I see it. But you don’t have to do that with me.”

The air between them felt charged, a tension neither of them could deny. Christine’s chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. Sean reached out, his fingers brushing hers for a fleeting moment before she pulled back.

“Sean, I can’t do this,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you the wrong idea, but I’m with Jide. And I’m leaving for Kenya soon. There’s no point in… whatever this is.”

Sean’s expression hardened, the vulnerability replaced by a mask of frustration. “Fine. Go to Kenya. Be with Jide. But don’t pretend you don’t feel anything for me. At least be honest about that.

Christine’s eyes darted around the hallway, hoping no one was within earshot. Sean’s intense gaze bore into her, making it impossible to dismiss his words.

“I’m not scared,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly. “This isn’t about fear. It’s about what feels right.”

“And Jide feels right?” Sean countered, his tone sharp but laced with desperation. “What’s so special about him, Christine? Tell me. I need to understand.”

She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. “Jide makes me feel seen, Sean. He doesn’t try to impress me or fit some image. He’s genuine.”

Sean’s expression twisted, a mix of frustration and hurt. “You think I’m not genuine? That everything I’ve done was just for show?”

“I didn’t say that,” Christine replied, her voice softening. “But sometimes it feels like you’re more interested in the chase than in me.”

He stepped closer, his tall frame towering over her, though his voice dropped to an almost pleading tone. “That’s not true. I’ve liked you for years, Christine. You’re not just some prize to me. I’ve imagined us together—what it would be like to be with someone who’s as smart, kind, and beautiful as you.”

Christine’s breath caught. There was an earnestness in his voice that made her heart ache. She’d always known Sean was charismatic, but seeing him this vulnerable was new. “Sean…”

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not after everything. The looks we’ve shared, the conversations at lunch. That time at the charity ball when we danced. Don’t tell me that meant nothing.”

Christine’s mind raced, recalling the moments he mentioned. Yes, there had been sparks—brief flickers of something unspoken—but she’d always dismissed them. “Sean, those moments were nice. But they’re not enough to build something real.”

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “And Jide is real? You’ve been with him for what, a week? How can you be so sure?”

“It’s not about time,” she said, her voice firm. “It’s about connection. Jide and I have something that feels… solid.”

Sean’s jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “So that’s it? You’re just going to throw away what we could have because of him?”

Christine’s patience was wearing thin. “There was never a ‘we,’ Sean. You’ve built this idea of us in your head, but it’s not real.”

Her words seemed to cut deep. He took a step back, his face a mixture of anger and pain. “Not real? Christine, I’ve done everything to show you how I feel. I’ve waited, hoping you’d see me the way I see you. And now you’re telling me it was all for nothing?”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” she said softly. “I appreciate you, Sean. I really do. But you can’t force something that isn’t there.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of anger. “Maybe I’m not the one forcing things. Maybe you’re settling for Jide because it’s easier than facing what’s between us.”

Christine’s temper flared. “You don’t get to decide how I feel or what’s easier for me. You don’t know what I’ve been through, Sean.”

“Then tell me!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing down the empty hallway. “Help me understand why I’m not enough for you.”

The raw emotion in his voice made her heart twist. She looked down, her voice trembling. “It’s not about you being enough. It’s about me choosing what feels right for me. And right now, that’s Jide.”

Sean exhaled sharply, his hands balling into fists at his sides. For a moment, it looked like he might argue further, but instead, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost defeated. “I just… I don’t understand why it couldn’t be me.”

Christine felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes she couldn't comprehend what this drama meant. “I’m sorry, Sean. I really am.” She muttered.

He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. Me too.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Then, without another word, Sean turned and walked away, his broad shoulders tense as he disappeared around the corner.

Christine leaned against the wall, her heart pounding. She didn’t regret her choice, but that didn’t make the confrontation any less painful. Sean’s words would linger in her mind for days, a bittersweet reminder of what might have been.