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As they stepped inside, the lake house opened up before them, glowing with warm light. Strings of bulbs hung across the ceiling, casting a soft golden shine over the room. Music pulsed from a speaker in the corner, not too loud yet, just enough to set the rhythm.
Clusters of classmates were already gathering, some laughing in groups, others busy setting up games. The faint smell of jollof rice and grilled meat drifted from the back, mingling with the freshness of the lake breeze that slipped through the open windows.
The mood was easy and light—no trace yet of the heavy scent of alcohol or the chaos that usually came later. Right now, everything felt new, sharp, and full of possibility.
Leke nudged Tolu with his elbow, grinning. "See? Perfect timing. The night hasn't even started properly."
Tolu nodded, scanning the room, his nerves hidden under a calm expression. Somewhere in the crowd, Ore was laughing with her friends, and the sight made his chest tighten.
Tolu's eyes flicked toward a cluster of girls gathered near the far side of the living room. Six of them, all from the same circle, stood together in the soft glow of the party lights.
Four of them drew most of the attention—their voices loud, their laughter sharper, the kind of beauty that pulled boys across the room without them even realizing. Every few moments, some guy would drift close, trying to crack a joke or offer a drink, eager just to be noticed.
But in the background, just a step removed, were Ore and Amaka. They weren't ignored completely, but compared to the glow of the others, they were easy to overlook. Tolu knew better though; his eyes found Ore without effort, the way her braids swayed when she laughed softly, not trying to compete for the spotlight. And Amaka—quiet but steady—was exactly the type Leke claimed to have figured out.
Leke leaned in close, following Tolu's gaze. "See them?" he asked.
Tolu gave a small nod, his throat suddenly dry.
"Good," Leke said, his grin widening. "That's where tonight starts."
The chant grew louder, the room buzzing as more students crowded around the drinking table. Bottles clinked, cups filled, and laughter spilled through the air.
Leke leaned back on the couch, eyes scanning the crowd. Then he smirked, shot Tolu a quick wink, and disappeared into the sea of bodies without another word.
Tolu blinked, sitting up. "Wait—what?" he muttered, but Leke was already gone, swallowed by the noise and flashing lights.
Left alone, Tolu took another sip from his cup, his eyes darting around. The music pounded in his chest, and for the first time that night, he felt the weight of being on his own. Somewhere in that crowd, Ore was laughing softly with her friends, but Leke's sudden vanishing act left him unsure—was he supposed to make a move now? Or just wait?
Tolu slipped out the back door and made his way down to the quieter side of the lakeshore. The music and shouts from the party softened behind him, replaced by the steady lapping of water against the bank. He shoved his hands in his pockets, muttering under his breath.
'What am I even doing here? I don't even have a plan…'
He stopped short when he noticed Ore already there, her legs splashing in the lake. She was facing the water, arms resting lazily as if the calm belonged to her alone. When she turned, spotting him, her lips curved into a small smile.
"Oh—hey," she called, voice carrying easily. "Didn't think anyone else would come out here."
Tolu cleared his throat. "I just… needed some air."
Ore tilted her head, studying him. "Air, huh? Then why are you standing like the water's going to bite you? Come in."
"I didn't bring swimwear," he said, shifting awkwardly.
Ore chuckled and, without hesitation, peeled off her outer clothes to reveal a swimsuit underneath. She slid back into the water smoothly, eyes never leaving him. "Your excuse is officially invalid."
Tolu hesitated, then sighed. "This is a terrible idea," he muttered, tugging off his shirt and jeans until he was down to his boxers. He stepped carefully into the cool water.
"See? Not so bad," Ore said, splashing lightly.
"Easy for you to say," he shot back, but a smile tugged at his lips as he splashed her in return. Laughter bubbled up between them, sharp and playful, echoing into the night.
Tolu sat on the shallows, water curling around his legs, while Ore floated lazily nearby. They'd gone from splashing to drifting, the silence settling like an invisible blanket.
Ore broke it first. "You know, you're really smart. Chemistry's not a joke, and you make it look easy."
Tolu snorted. "Trust me, it's not. I just stuff all the formulas in my head. Half the time I don't even know if I'll remember them the next morning."
"Still," Ore said, pushing her hair back, "most people can't even cram. If it was that easy, chemistry wouldn't be the most failed subject in school."
He glanced sideways at her. "Well, look who's talking. You're always sharp in math. Every time the teacher asks a question, your hand is up like it's instinct."
Ore smirked, then her smile softened. "Math's… different. It feels like a puzzle. Once you find the pattern, everything clicks."
"Then why don't your friends try harder? It's not like they're dumb."
Her expression dimmed slightly, the playful spark in her eyes turning thoughtful. "Because they don't have to. Most of them are rich. Like, really rich. Even if they fail, their parents will pull some strings, pay for tutors, or just… pave another road for them. They don't feel pressure, so they don't care."
Tolu frowned. "So… grades don't matter when you have money."
"Exactly." Ore swirled the water with her hand. "Sometimes it's like we're not even in the same world. They talk about vacations abroad, shopping trips, designer clothes. I talk about studying for an exam, and they roll their eyes. To them, I'm the boring one. They have silver spoons shoved so far up their asses it's affecting their brains."
Tolu raised a brow. "Slowly now… aren't you also… you know… rich?"
Ore rolled upright, meeting his eyes. "Yeah. But I don't take it for granted. I want to be good at something because I worked for it, not because someone padded the way."
He hesitated, testing the waters. "So, what makes you different?"
She thought for a moment. "Maybe it's because I hate being underestimated. People think if you're rich, you're spoiled. Dumb. Dependent. I don't want to fit that stereotype. I'd rather be known for what I do than what I was born into."
Tolu chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm sure if your friends find out you're swimming out here instead of drinking inside, they'll say you're taking things for granted anyway."
Ore laughed, a clear sound that rippled across the water. "Probably. But at least this is my choice. Not some image I'm trying to keep up."
Her laughter lingered, then softened into silence. They looked at each other, really looked. For a moment, the party, the music, the whole town felt a thousand miles away.
Tolu leaned back on his hands, water lapping at his waist, eyes on the ripples stretching out into the dark. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "I didn't think this is how the night would go."
Ore tilted her head, floating closer, her braids brushing the surface. "Neither did I," she admitted softly. "But… I'm glad it did."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The party felt far away, almost unreal, as if they had slipped into their own world by accident.
'Fuck it,' Tolu thought, heart thudding.
He leaned in, water clinging to his skin, and kissed her.
Tolu leaned in, closing the space between them until his lips brushed hers—soft, quick, almost hesitant. Just a peck, but enough for his chest to tighten like he'd leapt off a cliff. Ore's lips were warm from the water, carrying the faint taste of lake air and laughter.
She blinked, then let out a short, breathless laugh as if the surprise tickled her more than shocked her. She brushed a hand over her wet cheek, eyes never leaving him. When he pulled back, still half in disbelief, his eyes stayed shut until he dared open them.
Ore was watching him, smiling in that quiet, knowing way.
"I didn't think you had it in you," she whispered.