BERNARD'S POV
"You want Fred, right?"
"Yeah… so?" she asked, staring me dead in the eyes.
"You know Zizi hasn't gotten over him yet. And I know you don't wanna lose Fred to her."
"So… hit the nail already!"
"Let's team up. You want Fred, I want Zizi. Simple. We'll make them fall out of love with each other. You feel me? We'll break them up." I shrugged, giving her my best you-know-it-all look.
"Count me in," she said, and walked off.
"Yessss!" I fist-pumped and did a little victory dance.
Yeah, I don't care if you hate me.
What's on my mind? Oh, you wanna know how I even managed to show up at school today? Okay—let's rewind a bit.
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Yesterday, 19:07
Dad had just gotten home. From where? Who knows—and honestly, I didn't care, as long as he came back with the bag. He was a politician, always busy, never around. But that didn't mean he didn't spoil me. Anything I wanted, I got.
And right now? I wanted Zikora.
"Dad! I need to talk!"
"I'm busy, son. Later." His eyes were glued to the files in his study.
"It's important!"
"What is it? Cars? A crib? New iPhone? What?" Still typing, barely looking at me.
"None of that. I've been suspended from school for a week." I lowered my head in shame.
"What!? What did you do?" He finally looked up, face serious.
"I got into a fight. Some random dude got on my nerves. It wasn't intentional. I'm sorry, Dad. We've got exams on Thursday, and teachers are revising the term's work. Please call the proprietress. Please!"
"Alright, son. I'll call her. Happy now? Anything else?" His eyes were already back on the laptop.
"One more thing…"
He sighed. "Go on."
"I wanna organize a party tomorrow. Please. Don't say no, 'cause I already invited my friends and the party organizers. Please, Dad. Pleaseee. I love you!"
He frowned, typed furiously for a few seconds, then stopped. Standing up, he sighed again.
"I'm not staying in a house full of drunk, rotten teenagers. Pack my bag—I'll be at Banana Island for a few days. Don't wreck my mansion. If you do, you'll be living on the streets. And I mean it."
And just like that, he left.
Yessss! That was a yes.
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Present Day
And that's how I got back into school today. Surprisingly, Fred was there too. Must've been Dad's doing.
When I walked into class, Ann was chitchatting with an uninterested Fred. He barely responded with "yes," "no," or "maybe." But my eyes? They found Zikora. She was glaring daggers at Fred and Ann, though she pretended to be focused on her book.
I headed to the front, cleared my throat, and began:
"Listen up, guys. I've got something to tell y'all about the party."
The whole class went silent, eyes on me. Fred and Zikora both looked bored.
"I thought maybe we make this party spicy by letting y'all pick the dress code." I brushed imaginary dust off my collar.
"But I already ordered my white dress online! You told us it was an all-white party!" Zainab whined.
"Bruh! You said all white!" Tom shouted.
"I didn't even like the all-white idea. Stains too easily," Ann complained.
"Can you just tell us already!" Ronnie, our Japanese classmate, yelled.
"Alright. Options are: all pink, all black, or all white for the girls. Majority wins. Who's for pink?"
A few hands went up.
"Four for pink. Black?"
"Three for black."
"White?"
"Ten! White wins!"
The girls squealed.
"Now the boys… do we need options?" I asked.
"Black and white!" they roared.
"Superb!" Calvin cheered.
I looked toward Zikora. She was staring at Fred, who was staring back. I signaled Ann to break it up, and she did—by kissing Fred on the cheek.
The look on Zikora's face? Priceless. Pure rage.
"Ok, Zikora, what do you think?" I asked.
"I don't know," she muttered, voice sharp with anger.
"Girls in all white. Boys in black and white. Remember: 5 PM to 2 AM."
The girls squealed again, hugging and giggling over their matching outfits. The boys celebrated too—loud, rough, chaotic.
"Now who spanked me?" I yelled when someone smacked me.
"Me!" Calvin grinned like a toddler.
"Why are you guys overexcited?" Zikora snapped.
"Come on, baby! We gotta rejoice. You girls celebrated. Now it's our turn!" Sam teased, ruffling Zizi's hair.
"Sam, leave my hair alone!" she yelled, tucking a strand behind her ear.
"Nope! Not letting go, pretty." He tugged again.
That was it. Zikora yanked off her Mary Jane and hurled it right at his face.
"How dare you! I don't care if you're some celebrity!" Sam roared, storming toward her.
Before he got too close, Fred and I grabbed him and punched him square in the face.
"Fred, let go. I'll deal with him myself. Go to your bae!" I barked.
"No! I got him first!" Fred shot back.
"She's my girlfriend. I'll defend her," I said, trying to keep calm.
Fred ignored me, still shouting at Sam, warning him never to touch Zikora again.
Typical Fred. Always trying to play the hero.
I dragged Sam away, still yelling at him. Fred started yelling at me. We cussed and clashed until Zikora got up and stormed out.
I followed immediately. Fred trailed too, Ann desperately trying to calm him down.
Ugh. Why was Fred even born? He's a pest.
We both chased after Zikora, who covered her ears as she ran toward the gym. I cut Fred off, blocking his path.
"Fred, go back!" I roared.
"She's my girlfriend!"
"No, she's mine!" he barked.
"Move, scoundrel!"
"Over my dead body!"
Fred shoved me aside and sprinted for the gym.
And then—bam!—the gym door slammed. Fred went flying out, holding his cheek.
We all saw it. We all felt it. Zikora had slapped him. Hard. In front of everyone. Cameras were out. The whole school witnessed it.
I couldn't stop laughing.
"Well? How did it go in there?" I mocked.
Fred glared, silent fury in his eyes.
"Scoundrel," he spat.
"Go ahead, Fred. She won't slap you again. Try your luck. But just know—you're going viral. That slap was recorded."
"Anyone who posts that clip will be sued. Try me!" Ann shouted, furious.
"Ok, I'll try!" I howled with laughter.
Fred stormed off in shame, Ann trailing behind him.
What. A. Day.
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Hi y'all, it's me again!
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Still your teen authoress,
Oziomajasmine ☘️🍷