"Let go!" Mrs. Evelyn barked, raising her cane at Zizi.
I pulled her behind me, glare locked on the teacher.
"Fred, let go of her!"
"Impossible." My voice was sharp.
The cane came down on our joined hands again and again, but neither of us budged. Zizi was sobbing, eyes squeezed shut, while I refused to let go. At last, Mrs. Evelyn dropped her arm, glaring daggers.
"Damn you both. Hand me your papers, Fred."
"Teacher, but he—" Ann tried to speak.
"Wait," I cut in, forcing a smirk. "Ma'am, thanks for strengthening our bond. We really, really love you for it."
Before anyone could react, I scribbled out my name on my exam paper and replaced it with Zikora's.
"What the hell did you just do?" Mrs. Evelyn snapped.
"This is her paper now," I said flatly, pushing it toward her before taking Zizi's hand and walking her straight out of class.
We didn't stop until we reached the quiet garden behind the building. Sitting together on the bench under the mango tree, I turned to her.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, brushing her tears away.
"Why did you do that? You'll fail biology," she murmured, voice dull, eyes glassy. Her nose was running, her face pale.
Alarm surged through me. I pressed the back of my hand to her neck—she was burning up.
"Zikora, you're sick. Oh God. We're going to the doctor—now."
"I'm fine," she whispered. "If Mom finds out, she'll call that awful nurse who hates me. Please, don't."
"Lollipop, I don't care. My heart would stop if anything happened to you," I said, pulling her into my arms.
She tried to smile. "Promise me we'll go… after the party. Ann and Bernard invited us."
I sighed, kissing her cheek. "Fine. After the party. But promise me you'll get better—and give me my nickname back."
"Promise." She blushed as I teased, "Close those pretty eyes already. I want to see how beautiful you look asleep."
Her cheeks flamed brighter. I tilted her chin, eyes locked with hers—brown, luminous, impossible not to drown in. My gaze drifted to her nose, her lips—
And then I kissed her.
Or maybe she kissed me. Either way, our mouths collided, soft but electric. Her arms curled around my neck as she straddled me on the bench, trembling but holding on.
"Hey! Sorry to interrupt!" Zainab's voice cracked the spell. She winked at us, grinning like the devil. "Exam time, lovebirds." Then she darted off.
Zizi buried her face in my shoulder, scarlet.
"Lollipop, come on. Why so shy? This isn't even your first—"
"Freddy, stop! I'm embarrassed!" she squeaked, smacking my chest.
I laughed as she hid behind her hair, then bolted back to class like a storm. What a shy little queen.
---
Zikora's POV
"Ann! Bernard!" I called as I entered the garden house later with Fred. My perfectly groomed, annoyingly handsome boyfriend trailed behind me.
"There they are," I whispered nervously. "Fred, I'm kind of scared."
"Don't be. I've got you."
"Ta-da!" Ann and Bernard chorused, chuckling.
"Zizi, you look hot tonight," Ann said, giving me an approving once-over.
"Thanks. You too."
She led us to the long dining table, stacked with food and drinks. Bernard waved toward the crowd. "Calvin and Zainab are here. Jenny, Tony, Ronnie, Kingsley, Noah… everyone."
"Zainab!" I squealed, waving as she ran to hug me.
"Our queen superstar, Zizi Kora, has arrived!" she announced. The room broke into cheers.
Compliments rained down:
"Her makeup is perfect."
"Those heels!"
"That dress!"
"Fred looks so fine!"
"They're the cutest couple."
Everyone hugged us in turn, and the party roared to life—music thumping, girls dancing, guys cheering.
Fred leaned close, smirking. "You need to dance."
"I'm sick, remember?"
"Not an excuse, lollipop." He trapped me lightly against the wall, face inches from mine.
"Get off me," I giggled, pushing at his chest.
"Come on. Dance."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Lolly…"
"No, puppy."
"Please?" His puppy-dog eyes were lethal.
I groaned. "Fine."
The second I hit the floor, cheers erupted. I twerked, spun, and shook my hips as the crowd chanted my name. Fred's jaw literally dropped. Boys spanked me—yes, including my own idiot boyfriend—while Ann joined in, proving she was basically born for TikTok.
I grinded back against Fred, and the room went wild. Phones were out, flashes popping, videos streaming live on TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, everywhere.
Did I care? Nope. I was Zizi Kora. And I was born to own the spotlight.