Shipping Jennifer with Kevin

The morning sun filtered through the dormitory windows, scattering golden lines across the floor tiles. It was self-study time, and the halls were quieter than usual.

Jennifer walked calmly from the library, her books hugged close to her chest. Her steps were measured, her eyes low, her mind still fogged from equations and the faint scent of old paper. As she neared her class, a soft hush passed through the corridor-not total silence, but the kind of tension that follows a whisper before the shout.

Inside Form Four South, a few girls clustered in their seats, some chuckling, others glancing quickly at their devices. As Jennifer entered, Edna, seated near the window, shifted uneasily. Her eyes flicked up, then back her phone. Jennifer could feel it: something was going on.

She walked to her desk-slow, cautious-like someone stepping into a room that had already decided its mood. Just as she pulled out her chair, Cynthia stood up and crossed the aisle, with Angela close behind.

"Jennifer..." Cynthia said softly, unsure.

Jennifer looked up.

Angela cleared her throat and nudged Cynthia. "Show her," she whispered.

Cynthia hesitated for a beat, then slid her tablet-sleek and thin, with a glittery pink case-on to Jennifer's desk. She tapped the screen, and the video began to play. The sound of soft piano music filled the air-Perfect by Sherlyn, playing as Jennifer and Kevin moved in perfect rhythm, dancing in the circle of students. The clip caught the exact moment Kevin leaned close, his hand gently guiding hers, their eyes locked as if no one else existed.

There it was-the tension. The almost kiss. Kevin had leaned in just a second too long. Jennifer, flushed, held his gaze like someone caught in a dream.

Students could be heard gasping softly in the background of the video. It was the kind of moment that felt pulled straight from a forbidden romance film.

Below the video:

@schoolbae_04: IS THIS A MOVIE OR REAL LIFE??🥹💖 #KJennifer

@classroomtea: They looked like a fairytale prince & princess 😭✨

@LoyalFatima: He had her waist like he already won 😭🔥 #PerfectBySherlyn

Angela laughed, nudging Jennifer with her elbow. "Girl...even the teachers are whispering. What was that?"

She added "Since when did you two become the school's favorite lovebirds?"

Jennifer blinked, speechless. Her fingers hovered just above the screen.

Cynthia's voice dropped. "You're trending. Even students from St. Peter are reposting it."

A soft murmur rippled from the front of the class-more phones glowing, more sideways glances.

Jennifer sat down slowly, her breath shallow.

She had no words. No answers.

Angela smirked slightly, folding her arms. "So... should we start calling you JPrincess now?"

Jennifer gave a small, almost inaudible sigh. "It wasn't supposed to be...this."

Cynthia and Angela exchanged a look.

From the back of the room, Edna titled her phone and chuckled. "Too late."

The final bell for chemistry rang out, echoing faintly across the quiet halls. Students packed their bags with slow hands, expecting Miss Emily to arrive for Physics next-as she always did, precisely on time.

But today, the door remained closed.

A strange hush settled over the classroom.

Even Jennifer, who often welcomed any delay with mild relief, sat unusually still. Her eyes darted to the clock. One minute. Two. Five. Nothing.

A few students began to murmur. Cynthia whispered something to Angela, who raised a brow but said nothing. Alison tapped her pen against the desk, muttering, "She's never late."

Just then, the door swung open. It wasn't Miss Emily.

It was Christine, the Form Four prefect from North. She stepped into the classroom, her spine straight, clutching a brown folder tightly to her chest. She walked with quiet authority, her polished shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor.

"Morning," she said simply. "Miss Emily asked me to return these."

She held up the brown folder-physics test papers-and handed it over to Cynthia.

Then, without pause, she reached into the folder and pulled out a single slip of paper.

"She also said," Christine added, glancing around the class, "the student who didn't attempt a single question is to report to her office."

A ripple of confusion passed through the room.

Cynthia looked up. "Just one name?"

Christine nodded once. "Jennifer Mwikali."

Silence fell like a dropped pin.

Even the backbenchers-those who had guessed randomly or scribbled nonsense-turned to look.

Jennifer?

Even Cynthia, who had seen Jennifer command the physics showcase like it was her birthright, blinked in disbelief.

But Jennifer didn't flinch.

She calmly rose from her seat, her face unreadable.

Because she already knew.

She hadn't tempted a single question.

She'd expected this.

But the rest of the class hadn't.

Whispers spread like wildfire the moment the door clicked shut behind her.

"Did you hear right?"

"Jennifer Mwikali?"

"Maybe it was a mistake..."

But it wasn't.

Even the slowest minds in the room could tell-something wasn't right.

Jennifer hadn't been herself lately. She hadn't sat with anyone. She hadn't raised her hand in class. She hadn't even touched her notebook in chemistry that morning.

Today just wasn't her day. Or maybe...it hadn't been her week.

And now she was gone-quietly summoned.

Even the ones who rolled their eyes at her perfection, at her name topping every board, stayed quiet. Because if Jennifer could fall...who else?

Cynthia sat frozen, the paper in her hands trembling slightly. Angela leaned in, whispering, "What's going on with her?"

Cynthia only shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The halls were strangely empty.

Jennifer's footsteps echoed as she made her way past the science labs and the tall windows that stared out into the misty afternoon garden. The sun had dimmed behind a stretch of clouds, casting in a pale silver haze.

Miss Emily's office wasn't in the main building. It stood alone, tucked between the old chapel and the climbing vines that wrapped the side wall like secrets refusing to let go. The pathway to it was narrow, quiet-the kind that made you feel watched even when no one was there.

Jennifer walked slowly. Her pulse thudded at her neck, but her face remained calm.

The door to Miss Emily's office loomed ahead-black, polished, old . The kind of door that made you think twice before knocking. A brass nameplate shone softly:

Miss Emily Wairimu

The-Assistance Deputy Principal |Physics Dept.

Jennifer raised her hand and knocked gently.

A beat passed. Then a calm voice from within, low but firm.

"Come in."

She stepped inside.

Miss Emily stood by the tall window, her back turned. One hand rested lightly on the still, her posture rigid yet composed. Her eyes were somewhere out in the garden, distant, unreadable.

She didn't turn. Her voice came calm, but edged with something sharper.

"I see," Miss Emily said, her voice cool but cutting. "You seem to focus quite well...under the piano light. A duet. Applause. Holding hands. Everyone watching."

She turned then, slowly.

"But when it comes to physics-suddenly, your time runs out."

Jennifer stood frozen. Her hands clutched at the hem of her skirt, heart pounding faster now. She didn't know how to respond, but the way Miss Emily said "under the piano light"-it made everything feel exposed.

Miss Emily turned from the window at last, her expression veiled.

"Ah. Now I see you're alarmed."

Jennifer swallowed hard. " No, I mean...it's not like that."

Her voice cracked slightly.

"I'm not...I'm not someone's girlfriend, or anything like that. That...that moment on stage, it was just...a performance."

Miss Emily said nothing. She took a slow, deliberate step forward, her eyes sharp with something indecipherable-something that made Jennifer's heart skip.

"You're good at performing," she murmured. "Under the piano lights. Holding hands. Singing to a crowd like nothing mattered."

She was close now. Too close. Jennifer took an instinctive step back, but her heel caught the edge of the desk. Her breath hitched.

Miss Emily's hands caught her waist. It wasn't violent-but it wasn't soft either. It held her in place. A thumb brushed lightly over the hem of Jennifer's spine straightened, her entire body tensing.

"So tell me..." Miss Emily leaned in, her voice like velvet and storm. "Can we perform this well...when no one's watching?"

Her breath fanned against Jennifer's collarbone. She wasn't touching her-but the space between them was unbearable. Jennifer's eyes fluttered shut, caught in a storm she didn't know how to name.

And now... Miss Emily.

Miss Emily's fingers brushed Jennifer's collarbone. Not by accident. A soft touch, slow-as if celebrating that part of her.

Jennifer body moved before her thoughts could catch up.

She didn't understand what it was- that feeling curling low inside her, quiet but persistent. A memory of warmth. A trace of something that lingered on her skin. She wasn't supposed to want this.

But she did.

Not like in the stories , not like love. It was something deeper, unnamed. Like her body was... salivating for the moment to last-not food not touch exactly, but the taste of being wanted.

Jennifer pulled back just in time, breath shaky.

Her voice came sharp, like a shield: "I'm not wearing that top tank again."