The Good, The Bad & The Ugly
Chapter 22: BROKEN
First term as SS2 student dragged on with activities that should have been exciting, which was; fruit day, Independence Day celebrations, endless rehearsals for the Christmas party, and even more studying but none of it felt enjoyable to me. Everything blurred into one exhausting routine, because no matter what was happening in school, Amira made it her personal mission to ruin whatever was left of my relationship.
It became a pattern.
The moment a teacher stepped out of the classroom, she would slide off her seat and walk straight to George like she owned him. Sometimes she would sit comfortably on his lap, laughing over nothing, playing with his hands, whispering things I couldn’t hear. Other times, she would follow him around like a shadow, sticking so close it was suffocating to watch. And the worst part? She documented everything, posting pictures and videos on her WhatsApp status, flooding it with love emojis like they were already a couple.
Everyone saw it. They knew what she was doing and George acted like it was nothing like he was enjoying the show.
“She just wants attention,” he would say anytime I tried to complain. “Ignore her.”
Ignore her? As if I wasn’t watching another girl slowly take my place right in front of me. As if it didn’t hurt.
Because now, according to him and apparently everyone else Amira was behaving this way because of me. Because I had “provoked” her. Because I had “overreacted.” I had crossed the line first.
So, I stopped arguing. What was the point?
Even the new girl, Chioma, had somehow found her way into Amira’s circle. They became close almost immediately, and without even knowing the full story, she encouraged everything Amira did. Slowly, the same friends who used to sit with me, laugh with me, defend me, that is, Hameedat, Nafisa, Desire, were now always around Chioma… and by extension, Amira.
I didn’t realize when I became the outsider and the only person who would have stood by me was Jerry but wasn’t even in school. He was still in the hospital.
When we went to visit him, the sight of him broke something inside me. He looked so pale, so weak, nothing like the loud, energetic boy who used to fill everywhere with laughter. I stood there, forcing a smile, but inside, I missed him more than I could explain. If Jerry were around, none of this would have gotten this far. He would have dragged George somewhere, talked sense into him, even forced him to apologize just to restore peace.
But now? I was alone and things kept getting worse.
One afternoon, I walked into class just in time to see Amira feeding George snacks, her fingers brushing his lips as she laughed. He didn’t stop her, didn’t pull away, didn’t even look uncomfortable.
That was my breaking point.
I picked up my bag and walked out before anyone could see the tears threatening to fall. My feet carried me straight to the conference room, my chest tight with frustration.
Enough was enough.
If begging George would put an end to all this madness, then fine, I would beg him. I didn’t care about pride anymore. I just wanted my peace back but as I got closer to the conference room, voices stopped me.
“I’ll consider him,” Desire was saying softly. “Let him prove himself first.”
I frowned, inching closer, so I could hear and see clearly. Through the slightly open door, I saw Gideon standing in front of her, looking unusually serious. Desire handed him a small piece of paper, and he collected it like it was something important.
“A temporary yes,” she added. “If Bashir’s serious, it can become permanent.”
Wow. Bashir finally got Desire.
I was about to leave when another sentence froze me in place.
“Hameedat is also thinking about you… but she’s not sure yet.”
My eyes widened. Hameedat and Gideon?
I didn’t wait to hear more. So, quietly, I stepped back and walked away, my mind spinning. Hameedat was finally moving on from Saheed… but to Gideon? Not Olamide? Are they all not friends?
Everything was changing, and I didn’t even know where I stood anymore. Without thinking, I found myself walking into the crowded SS1 classroom, no one cared about my presence. The moment I sat down, memories hit me all at once like I had stepped back in time.
This was where I gave George his birthday gift. Where we laughed freely. Where love was beautiful. And my birthday was just a week away now, I didn’t feel excited.
I didn’t even know if George remembered or cared.
I blinked back the tears, trying not to lose control in a classroom filled with noisy SS1 students who were too busy arguing and playing to notice me. That was when I spotted Francis across the room, leaning casually beside a new girl, handing her snacks and drinks with a smile that looked suspiciously familiar.
So that’s what had been keeping him away.
I almost laughed but when I finally returned to my class, my sadness resurfaced. The class was almost empty because a good number of students, including George, were gone and Amira was sitting alone this time. Apparently, the newly elected prefects had a meeting.
I would have been among them if my grades weren’t so bad. But lately, everything felt like it was falling apart, and I didn’t even have the strength to fix it. So, I sat down quietly and pulled out my phone, determined to text George. To apologize. To end this silent war.
Before I could type more than a few words, a voice cut through my thoughts.
“Are you enjoying the new romance in school?”
I looked up, it was Amira. Of course.
I locked my phone immediately, anger rising. “You are so cheap,” I shot back.
She laughed like I had just told a joke.
“And you’re a fool,” she replied smoothly. “I haven’t even started. You’ll see… George will be mine again.”
Something inside me snapped before I could think, my hand moved and I hit her.
She hit me back. And just like that, we were on each other, pushing, grabbing, until Chioma rushed to separate us.
“What is wrong with both of you?” she snapped, breathless. Then she turned to me, her voice softer but firm. “If you want your boyfriend back, go and beg him before it’s too late. Amira is not the only problem you have.”
I froze.
“What do you mean?”
But it was Amira who answered, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
“The person you call your friend…” she said, adjusting her clothes, “…is also with George. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
She walked out before I could respond. I turned slowly to Chioma, my heart pounding, my vision blurring. She hesitated for a moment, then sighed.
“If you really want to know what’s going on,” she said quietly, “go to SS3 class.”
My body felt weak, too weak to stand, move or even finish the apology message I had started.
Instead, I sat down and rested my head on my desk, and this time, I didn’t try to stop the tears. I cried silently.
I was completely broken.
One quick question please
If you were Zara, would you go to SS3 to find out the truth about George, or protect your peace and walk away?
Thank you for reading 📖