Amara
The whispers started on a Monday.
It was subtle at first—side glances in the hallway, conversations that went quiet when she approached, heads tilted in hushed surprise. At first, Amara thought she was imagining it. After all, people stared before. But this time, it was different.
There was a sharpness in their eyes.
A judgment.
She felt it in the way girls looked at her during roll call, in the way two classmates giggled behind their textbooks when she passed, and especially in the way Vanessa smirked from across the lecture hall as though she knew a secret Amara didn't.
By Tuesday, it wasn't just glances. It was laughter.
Snickering when she entered the cafeteria. Eyes scanning her outfit, her tray, her expression—like they were searching for cracks.
Amara sat alone at a far corner of the cafeteria, the stew on her plate going cold. Kelsey was absent that day, down with a sore throat, and her absence made everything feel ten times worse.
From the table across, she heard someone whisper loudly enough to be heard, "You know she's only close to Kingsley because of his car, right?"
A girl laughed. "Her grades probably got fixed too. You know how guys get when they're in love."
More laughter.
Amara's hand froze mid-spoon.
Her throat tightened. She couldn't swallow. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
The worst part wasn't the rumors themselves—it was the fact that she had no one to defend her. Kelsey wasn't there. Kingsley wasn't around. And Geraldine—ironically—had just excused herself from their lunch table moments before the whispering began.
How convenient.
Amara pushed her tray away and left the hall.
She walked fast, down the corridor, out past the courtyard and behind the science building, to a hidden bench under a crooked tree. That's where she finally let the tears sting her eyes.
Why are they doing this to me?
What did I even do wrong?
She wanted to talk to someone—anyone. But even her phone felt foreign in her hand. She opened a chat with Kingsley, stared at it, then closed it again.
She didn't want to seem needy. Or worse, like she needed him to protect her.
But deep down… she kind of did.
Kingsley
Kingsley heard the whispers too.
He didn't like them.
"You sure you know what you're doing with that Amara girl?" Daniel, one of his closest boys, said as they sat on the corner steps of the male hostel that evening. "People are talking. That she's using you."
Kingsley raised a brow. "Using me?"
"Bro… come on. First, she's failing. Then she's suddenly top of the resit chart. Now she's your group partner and bestie? People notice things."
Kingsley's jaw clenched. "So because a girl works hard and passes, she's suddenly a gold-digger?"
Daniel shrugged. "I'm just saying what people are saying."
"Well, they can all shut up."
Daniel smirked. "Looks like you're catching feelings."
Kingsley didn't reply. Mostly because… it was true.
That evening, Kingsley found himself pacing outside the girls' hostel, unsure of what he was even doing there. He texted Amara twice.
Hey, you around?
Can we talk?
No reply.
He ran his fingers through his curls, exhaling. She was probably upset. And he had a feeling he knew why.
Amara
She sat curled up on her bed, blanket over her head, headphones on—but no music playing.
She hadn't told Kelsey yet. Hadn't even spoken to Geraldine since the cafeteria. It was strange. Geraldine had been… kind lately. Present. Inviting. But now it all felt fake again.
Was it her? Was she the one spreading all this?
The girl who had called her strong and asked to start over?
Amara didn't know who to trust.
Her phone buzzed again. Kingsley. This time, a voice note.
She hesitated… then played it.
"Hey. I don't know if you've heard anything but… people are talking crap. About you. About me. And I just want you to know I don't believe a word of it. And I hate that you're being dragged into this because of me."
"If you want, we can talk. I'm outside."
Her heart dropped.
He's here?
She jumped from the bed, wiped her face, threw on a hoodie, and slipped into her sandals.
Kingsley
She looked surprised to see him.
Not annoyed. Not upset. Just surprised. Like no one ever showed up for her.
"Hi," she said quietly.
"Hey."
There was a long silence before either of them spoke again.
"They're calling me names," she said softly. "They think I used you."
"I know," Kingsley said. "And it's all crap."
"Is it?" she whispered. "Because even I don't know what we are."
He stared at her.
She wasn't angry. She wasn't bitter. She just sounded tired.
Like someone who was used to people turning on her.
Kingsley stepped closer. "We're… friends. And maybe more. I don't know yet. But what I do know is… I feel better when I'm with you. I'm doing better in school. I'm more focused. You make me think about my life. And not many people can say they've done that for me."
Amara blinked. Her lips parted slightly.
"You don't owe anyone an explanation," he said. "Not even me. But I need you to know—what they're saying doesn't matter to me. You matter."
She looked up at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a while, she didn't feel so alone.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Then, after a pause, "Would you… walk with me? Just for a bit?"
He smiled. "Always."
Amara
They walked quietly past the dorm blocks, through the overgrown side path leading toward the campus basketball court. The stars were out, scattered and blinking like little truths trying to reach her.
Kingsley's hand brushed against hers, and this time, she didn't pull away.
She wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet. But in that moment, the weight on her chest eased.
And for now, that was enough.
Later that night…
Back in her room, Amara finally opened her inbox.
A message from Geraldine.
"Hey bestie. You've been so quiet today. Hope we're still cool? LMK if you want to hang tomorrow ❤️"
Amara stared at the message.
And for the first time since Geraldine apologized… something in her gut twisted.
She didn't reply.
Not yet.