I stood at the entrance of my new school, my fingers gripping the straps of my backpack, trying to steady my nerves. The buzz of students around me seemed louder than ever, like the whole world was moving in a rhythm I couldn't keep up with. The laughter, the chatter, the sense of familiarity that clung to everyone but me—it made my chest tighten.
This wasn't just a new school. This was a new life. A life I hadn't asked for, but one my mother insisted we begin together. After years of living in the shadow of my father's abuse, my mother had finally gotten the courage to leave him, and now, we were here in Lagos, trying to pick up the pieces. But no matter how many fresh starts I faced, the past was like a weight, always pulling me back.
"Chinonso, we're late," my mother's voice broke through my thoughts. She stood by the doorway of the car, waiting for me.
I didn't move immediately. It wasn't that I didn't want to go to school. It was the thought of facing a new crowd, of being the outsider, that made my stomach churn. I hated the idea of people asking questions, wondering why we were here.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to take the first step toward the school gate. I'd be fine. I always was.
The noise inside the school was overwhelming. Students raced through the hallways, laughing, shouting, teasing each other. It felt like the world was moving too fast, and I was the only one left behind. I walked with my head down, trying to avoid any more attention than I was already attracting.
I walked into the classroom, immediately feeling the eyes on me. It was impossible to ignore. I scanned the room quickly, seeing cliques already formed, groups of girls whispering, boys joking around in the back. And there I was, the new girl, standing awkwardly at the door as the teacher took note of my arrival.
"Sit at the back," she instructed with a sharp glance. I nodded and quietly moved to an empty desk, relief flooding me as I sank into the seat. I preferred it this way—out of sight, out of mind.
I set my bag on the desk, trying to ignore the lingering stares. It wasn't like I wanted attention, and honestly, I didn't know how to handle the discomfort of being so exposed. I kept my gaze straight ahead, avoiding anyone's eyes.
The door creaked open, and I heard the shuffle of feet. Another latecomer.
"Tobi," the teacher called without looking up. "You're late. Take a seat beside the new girl."
I froze for a moment, my stomach tightening. The new girl? Was she talking about me? My chest squeezed as I turned slightly, and I saw him—Tobi. I had seen him around the school. He was one of the popular guys, always surrounded by his friends, always laughing, always with someone. I wasn't interested in getting tangled up in his world.
He walked over and sat down beside me, his presence suddenly too close. I didn't look at him. I didn't want to.
"Hey, I'm Tobi," he said, his voice light and casual. "Looks like we're stuck together for this class."
I ignored him. I wasn't here to make friends. I wasn't here to connect. I was just here to get through the day, get through this whole new life. So I stared straight ahead, pretending he wasn't there.
There was a brief silence, and I could feel his eyes on me. I didn't look back. I didn't owe him anything.
"Are you new here?" His voice was softer now, like he was genuinely trying to make conversation. I didn't respond.
I didn't owe him my name. I didn't owe him any explanation. So, I stayed silent, hoping he'd get the hint. But he didn't.
The rest of the class went by in a blur, Tobi occasionally glancing my way, but I kept my eyes trained on the front of the room. I could feel the weight of his gaze, but I refused to acknowledge it.
Finally, the bell rang, and the class was over. He stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and for a moment, he looked at me again. "I'll see you around, okay? Don't be a stranger," he said with a smile that was too warm for me to ignore.
I didn't respond, just nodded briefly, not trusting myself to speak. I didn't need him to see me or try to talk to me.
As he walked away, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. I had survived my first class without too much drama. That was enough for me.