Chapter Five

The sun was high, burning against my skin as I stood near the starting line, stretching my legs. The Inter-House Sports had begun hours ago, but this was the moment that mattered—the 4x400-meter relay. The final event. The one that would decide the house champion.

The crowd was loud, a blur of colors as students cheered for their teams. My house, Green House, had fought hard to stay in the lead, and now it all came down to this last race. The whole school was watching.

And so was Miss Chioma.

I stole a glance toward the teachers' stand. She stood there in a navy blue sports top and black leggings, her arms folded as she spoke to another teacher. The sunlight caught in her hair, and I had to look away before anyone noticed me staring.

"Ahamefula!" Coach Adisa's voice snapped me back to reality. "Focus."

I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders.

I needed to win. Not just for Green House. Not just for the trophy. But because she was here, watching.

The runners lined up. My teammate, Chijioke, was the first to take position, his fingers pressed against the track. I was the anchor—the last runner—the one who had to bring it home.

The whistle blew.

The first baton exchange was smooth. Green House was already in second place, but barely. The second lap went by in a blur. Chijioke pushed harder, handing the baton to Nonso, who sprinted with everything he had.

By the time the baton reached me, I knew it was all on me now.

I gripped it tight and ran.

The track blurred beneath me. My feet barely touched the ground as I pushed forward, breathing sharp and controlled. Yellow House was ahead, just by a fraction, but it was enough to make my chest burn with determination.

I heard the crowd—Aham! Aham! Green House!

I heard her.

She wasn't shouting, but I could feel her eyes on me, could picture the way she might be watching, arms still folded, her lips slightly parted in quiet anticipation.

I ran faster.

The finish line was close, just a few more meters. My legs burned, but I pushed harder, gritting my teeth as I closed the distance between me and Ekene from Yellow House. The final five seconds felt like eternity—stride, breathe, push, push, push.

Then, I crossed the line.

I barely heard the explosion of cheers as I slowed to a stop, my chest rising and falling in sharp bursts. Green House had won.

The trophy was ours.

Before I could fully process it, my teammates tackled me in celebration, hands slapping my back, voices shouting in my ears. I grinned, exhausted but victorious.

And then, as if drawn by something I couldn't control, my eyes searched for her.

She was still near the stands, smiling. At me.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Did she really see me? Did she notice how fast I was? How hard I had pushed?

I barely thought about it before my legs moved on their own.

I walked toward her, still catching my breath, the weight of the championship cup firm in my hands.

"Miss Chioma," I said, my voice slightly hoarse.

She looked up, amused. "Ahamefula. That was impressive."

I smiled, my chest feeling too full. "Thank you, ma."

She reached out, pulling me into a brief hug.

It was quick—barely a second—but I felt it everywhere. The warmth of her arm against my back, the faintest scent of sandalwood and vanilla, the press of her shoulder before she stepped back, still smiling.

"You ran well," she said. "You should be proud."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

As I walked back to my teammates, my heart was still racing, but this time, it had nothing to do with the run.

I was still gripping the cup when Emeka's arm landed heavily around my shoulders.

"Omo! Aham the track king!" he shouted, grinning from ear to ear. "Ah! You didn't even waste time—first place and first hug. Na you win everything today."

I rolled my eyes, trying to shake him off, but he only laughed harder.

"It's not like that," I muttered, though my pulse quickened at the thought of Miss Chioma's arms around me, the scent of sandalwood lingering faintly.

Emeka raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Because the way you were looking at her since morning…"

I opened my mouth to protest, but Zima walked up before I could form a response.

She held out a bottle of water, her expression unreadable. I took it, muttering a quick "thanks" before downing half of it. My throat was dry, but I wasn't sure if it was from the race or something else entirely.

"You ran well," she said finally, her eyes on the cup in my hands.

I nodded. "Green House had to win."

"Not just Green House," Emeka cut in, nudging me. "You had to win too. You were too determined today."

I shot him a look, and he smirked, but there was something thoughtful in his expression, like he was piecing something together.

Zima's gaze flickered between us, then settled on me. "Final exams are over. This is the last big school event before holiday."

I exhaled. It was true. SS2 was over. Just like that.

A few months ago, all I had thought about was exams, school, and the quiet rhythm of my life. But now, my mind was cluttered with things I didn't know how to place—a woman from my father's past, a half-brother I had never met, and a teacher who made me feel things I didn't want to name.

Zima was still watching me. "What happens after this?"

I frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "With school. With you."

I wanted to say, Nothing happens. We just move to SS3 and continue as usual. But even as the words formed in my mind, they didn't feel true.

"Nothing," I said instead. "I guess we just wait for the new term."

Zima's lips pressed into a small line. "Right."

She glanced at the cup again, then at me. "Congratulations, Aham," she said, and before I could respond, she turned and walked away, blending into the crowd of students.

I stared after her, confused by the sudden shift in her mood.

Emeka was quiet for a second, then sighed. "That was… strange."

I nodded. "Yeah."

Neither of us said anything for a moment. Then, Emeka clapped his hands together. "Anyway! Forget that one. We need to celebrate your victory properly. You still owe me meat pie from the last time."

I chuckled. "You mean the time you lost a bet and refused to pay?"

He waved it off. "That one no count. Let's go abeg."

I glanced once more at where Zima had disappeared, then shook my head. Whatever had just happened, I didn't understand it. And for now, I didn't want to.

---

The house was quiet when I got home.

Even though I knew the others were around—Nonso in his room, Obinna probably making a new TikTok video, Adaora somewhere with her phone, Kosi watching cartoons—the silence in the sitting room felt heavier than usual.

I set the cup down on the glass center table and collapsed onto the couch, my muscles finally registering their exhaustion.

Mama walked in a few minutes later, tying her wrapper tighter around her waist. She eyed the cup before looking at me.

"So, Green House won?"

I nodded, stretching my legs out. "Yes, ma."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Your father would have liked to see it."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure he would have. Papa wasn't the type to clap at school events or stand on the sidelines watching his children run.

Mama sat down on the opposite couch, resting her hands in her lap. "You did well, Ahamefula."

Something about the way she said it made my throat tighten. It wasn't the same as Miss Chioma's words, soft and warm, wrapping around my name like something delicate. But it still meant something.

I nodded. "Thank you, ma."

She studied me for a moment, then reached for the TV remote. The news channel flickered on, but I barely heard the words.

I leaned my head back, eyes drifting shut. The stadium, the crowd, the sound of Miss Chioma's voice—all of it played in my mind, over and over.

Even as exhaustion settled into my bones, my heart kept racing.

And this time, I knew exactly why.