CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT: THE FIELD HEATS UP
By late afternoon, the interhouse sports trials were at their peak. The sun had moved west, casting long shadows across the dusty field, and the wind had picked up, swirling loose papers, dust, and bits of dried leaves across the stands. The noise was deafening—students cheering, house captains shouting, drums banging, and the shrill whistle of officials slicing through it all.
I stood with my house team, feeling the exhaustion seep into my muscles. My legs were sore from the morning's relay, and my arms ached from the warm-up drills. Still, my mind refused to focus on anything other than the events unfolding across the field.
Samuel and Gift were everywhere I turned. One moment he was giving her advice on her sprint form, the next he was laughing at something she whispered. She leaned in close, her hand brushing his lightly—intentional or not, I couldn't tell—but my stomach twisted at the sight.
Victoria and Morayo had stayed near me during the break, trying to be friendly, their smiles cautious but persistent. Victoria even nudged me lightly, whispering, "Don't let them get to you." I managed a faint smile, appreciating the gesture even though my chest still felt tight.
The 200 meters sprint was the next event, and I was scheduled to compete. I stretched cautiously, trying to loosen my legs while stealing glances at Samuel. His attention was clearly on Gift, and yet… when his eyes met mine for a fraction of a second, I felt that familiar flutter in my chest.
"Floral! Get ready!" Our house captain shouted.
I moved to the starting line, adjusting my tracksuit and taking deep breaths. The other runners lined up beside me, faces serious, stretching, bouncing lightly. My heartbeat thundered—not from the nerves of the race, but from the storm of emotions raging inside me.
The whistle blew.
I pushed off, my legs pumping hard, muscles screaming. I focused on the finish line, counting my steps, keeping my form. Around me, other houses' students sprinted fiercely, their eyes determined. But every step, every breath, I couldn't completely block out Samuel. I imagined him cheering, maybe even smiling at me if he were watching me closely. The thought gave me a strange mix of motivation and anxiety.
I crossed the finish line panting, my heart racing. I didn't win, but I wasn't last either. I stumbled slightly, catching my balance, and immediately spotted Samuel a short distance away. He wasn't clapping for me; he was talking to Gift again, pointing toward the next event with that easy smile that made my chest tighten painfully.
I turned away, frustrated. My gaze fell on Victoria and Morayo. They gave me encouraging thumbs up. Victoria whispered, "You did well, seriously." Morayo nodded, giving me a small grin. I appreciated their effort to mend fences, but my mind was elsewhere.
During the water break, I walked toward the benches near the stands, trying to get some shade and water. Samuel was there, crouched next to Gift as she examined her shoes. They were laughing quietly.
I froze.
Not out of fear, but out of a strange, painful awareness that this wasn't just casual. His body leaned slightly toward hers, and hers toward him, as if they were the only two in the noisy field.
It hurt to watch.
"Floral…" a familiar voice whispered near my shoulder. I turned slightly to see Victoria and Morayo standing behind me. "We… we can walk together, just to the next event," Victoria said, the smile a little more genuine than before.
I hesitated, but nodded. "Okay."
We walked together, side by side, but my eyes kept darting toward Samuel and Gift. Every laugh they shared, every small touch, sent a twist through my chest. Morayo noticed my glances. "You still like him, don't you?" she said softly.
I flushed. "I… maybe," I muttered, looking away.
"Don't worry," Victoria said, almost teasingly. "You're not the only one."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Morayo leaned closer. "You know, Samuel… Gift likes him too. Everyone in our set noticed it, especially during prep and meals. But don't let that distract you. Focus on your races."
I sighed, feeling heavier. Of course she liked him. Everyone noticed. Even Victoria and Morayo weren't immune to gossip, apparently.
The next event was the long jump. I watched as students competed, some winning, others fumbling. Samuel was standing a little apart from Gift now, calling her name softly as she prepared for her turn.
I realized then how close we all were packed on this field—teachers shouting, students jostling, the dusty track, and thirty pairs of eyes staring in various directions. And yet, all I could notice was them.
Finally, when our house was called for the final event—the relay finals—the adrenaline I had been suppressing for hours surged back. I knew this was our moment to shine, to show our house spirit. I adjusted my bib and ran toward the starting blocks.
Samuel and Gift were standing together near the far end of the field now, cheering their house on. I noticed his eyes flicker toward me briefly, almost imperceptibly, before returning to her. The pang of jealousy was sharper than ever.
The whistle blew again.
I pushed off, sprinting with all my energy. The baton passed smoothly between Victoria and me. My legs burned, my lungs heaved, but I ran harder than ever before. For a moment, all I could hear was the pounding of my feet, the cheering of our house, and the faint fluttering of my chest at the thought of Samuel noticing me.
When the race ended, our house had placed second. Not first, but respectable. I collapsed on the grass near the edge, panting, sweat stinging my eyes. Samuel and Gift were still there, but I avoided looking at them directly, focusing instead on water and catching my breath.
Victoria flopped down beside me. "You did amazing," she said, smiling. Morayo followed suit, handing me a towel.
I nodded, smiling faintly. "Thanks."
The field continued to buzz with activity. The interhouse sports trials had stirred up old rivalries, new crushes, and complicated friendships. I realized something, lying there on the grass with Victoria and Morayo: despite everything—despite Samuel and Gift, despite jealousy, despite all the whispers—I was still capable of competing, of standing strong, and of holding my own.
But one thing was clear: this wasn't just about sports anymore.
It was about navigating feelings, friendships, and rivalries in a boarding school where every corner had eyes, every bunk held secrets, and every shared routine was a potential battlefield.