The sun had barely yawned over the horizon when a soft clatter of metal spoons echoed from the small kitchen in Alex's home. The scent of milo and freshly boiled yam filled the air. Alex sat at the edge of the wooden chair by the table, flipping through his class notes, the same notes he'd read three times already this morning. His eyes kept darting to the calendar pinned crookedly on the wall.
"Just a week to end-of-semester exams," he muttered. Uncle John walked into the room, buttoning his shirt, his brow furrowed like he was solving an equation in his head. "You've been up early every day this week, Alex," he said, sitting across from him. "I can see you're taking this exam seriously."
"I have to," Alex said with a half-smile. "It's Basic Nursing, Professional Adjustment, and Chemistry. These are not papers I can afford to joke with."
Uncle John reached for his cup and sipped slowly. "That's good. But make sure you eat, too. Don't let these books swallow your health."
"I'll be fine." Alex stood and zipped his backpack. "I just hope I do well."
"You will," Uncle John said, then added as he got up too, "It's been a while I dropped you off, hmm? Let's go. I'll take you today."
Alex looked up, surprised. "Really?"
Uncle John nodded and reached for his keys. "Come on."
---
Meanwhile, across campus, Kenny, Mike, and John stirred to life in their shared room. The beds were a mess of half-folded blankets and scattered textbooks. Mike stood stretching by the window. "You guys know today is our last lecture for Basic Nursing, Professional Adjustment, and Chemistry, right?"
"Yeah," Kenny groaned from his bed, rubbing his eyes. "Let's survive it and then crash at the food joint after class."
John was already up, flipping through a torn exercise book. "We need to do one more quiz today. I overheard the TA yesterday. Prepare."
"Thanks for the anxiety boost, John," Mike replied sarcastically as he shuffled toward the bathroom.
---
On the other side of the hostel, Emily stood near the mirror, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She had dressed earlier than usual—a crisp, white blouse tucked neatly into her navy-blue trousers. Her braids were tied into a soft bun, and her light perfume gave the room a calming lift. She checked her small handmade Ghana bag, carefully packed with biscuits, drinks, and a small jotter. Angela was still curled under her blanket, groaning as she peeked out. "Why are you this put together so early?"
Emily smiled, picking up her chemistry notes. "It's our final lecture. You know Dr. Mensah always locks the door five minutes into class. I'm not risking it."
Angela slowly sat up, blinking. "Well, now I feel irresponsible." Emily laughed gently. "Don't worry, I packed enough snacks for two." She shook the Ghana bag teasingly. "Now hurry before I eat yours."
Angela stretched with a sigh. "God bless your kind heart."As the morning stretched on, each of them—Alex, the boys, Emily and Angela—moved toward campus, all with the buzz of upcoming exams behind their thoughts, unsure of what the day might bring but certain it was one of their final calm days before the storm of the semester's end.The morning bustle at the taxi rank was its usual mix of impatient horns, students hustling for space, and vendors shouting prices of roasted maize . Mike stood with one foot on the curb, checking his phone again. "He said his uncle was dropping him," Kenny said, squinting toward the road. John chuckled. "That's rare. Must be some special kind of motivation today."
"I'm telling you," Mike said, slipping his phone back in his pocket. "The exam pressure has gotten to all of us."
Just then, a familiar blue car slowed and pulled up by the rank. Alex stepped out, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking slightly more rested than usual.
"My people," he greeted, adjusting his shirt collar. "Wow, chauffeur service?" Kenny teased.Alex grinned. "Limited edition. Uncle just felt like being generous today."
"Then let's not waste this good energy," John said. "You all know Dr. Mensah doesn't joke with time. Once that door shuts—"
"You're done for," Mike finished, already starting to walk briskly. The others followed, laughter and hurried chatter trailing them as they made their way to the lecture hall. As they approached the front entrance, the sight of two familiar figures brought smiles to their faces. Emily and Angela stood just by the door. Emily looked radiant, her Ghana bag casually slung over her shoulder. Angela, however, wore the expression of someone still fighting sleep.
"Ei, sleeping beauty," Kenny called out.
Angela groaned. "Leave me. I was ambushed by my own pillow."
Emily laughed, adjusting the strap of her bag. "She'll wake up before the mid-topic quiz."Mike gave Angela a small nudge. "If not, we'll carry you in spirit."
Alex turned to Emily, the morning sun catching the soft shimmer in her hair. He gave her a warm, gentle hug—not too close, not too distant—and said, "Good morning, pal. Hope you slept well."
Emily smiled faintly, nodding. "I did. You?"
"Trying," Alex replied with a chuckle.
The group paused for a second, sharing glances. Kenny raised a brow at Mike, who raised both in return. John just shook his head with a knowing smirk.
Moments later, the large doors opened, and they all filtered into the lecture hall. The room was filling up fast, students slipping into rows with books in hand. Just as everyone settled, the back door clicked—and in walked Dr. Mensah.
Tall, slightly hunched from years of teaching, with glasses that always seemed to slide halfway down his nose, Dr. Mensah placed his files on the front desk and looked over the class.
"You're lucky today," he began with a dry smile. "I almost started without you."
A wave of laughter spread through the class. He walked to the whiteboard, uncapping his marker. "Now, I know it's the last lecture before the exams, so I'll go easy on you… but not too easy."
Another chuckle passed through the room.Dr. Mensah launched into his explanations—clear, paced, and occasionally laced with witty remarks. He outlined key concepts in chemistry, drawing diagrams and asking random students questions in the middle of his speech. Despite the subject's complexity, he made it engaging. Then, his tone shifted slightly.
"As you prepare for your exams," he said, pausing at the center of the room, "remember this—no amount of pressure justifies malpractice. It will not only cost you your results, but your dignity. Nursing isn't just a profession—it's a trust. You cheat here, you risk carrying that into the field. And out there, lives are involved."
The room quieted.
"Study hard," he added. "Make your mistakes now. Learn from them. But in the exam hall—be honest. Even if the answer escapes you." The weight of his words settled in the hall like a blanket. Students nodded quietly. The lesson continued, and though the topic was chemistry, Dr. Mensah was teaching much more.After wrapping up his explanations on a particularly tricky chemical reaction, Dr. Mensah paused, capped his marker, and turned to face the class. "Now," he said calmly, "take out a sheet of paper. Write your index numbers clearly at the top. We're going to do a little assessment." A low ripple of murmurs ran through the hall like a breeze through tall grass. "Ei, class quiz?" Kenny whispered to Mike, already digging into his bag. John sighed. "And I didn't even revise the notes from last week."
At the front, Emily and Angela exchanged glances. Even sleepy Angela was now fully alert, the last trace of her earlier grogginess replaced with determined focus. On the board, Dr. Mensah slowly wrote in bold:
Class Assessment Quiz – Basic Chemistry
The chatter grew louder for a moment—some surprised, some nervous. But then the room gradually quieted, eyes drifting to Dr. Mensah who, now pausing with the marker in hand, turned back to them with a raised brow. Without a word, the class understood. Silence fell completely.
Dr. Mensah then carefully wrote the question beneath the title. It was straightforward but required clear understanding, not memorization. The kind of question he always said would test your reasoning, not your cramming.
"You have thirty minutes," he said after placing the marker down. "No talking. No peeking. Just give it your best."
With that, he began walking slowly down the aisles, hands clasped behind his back. His sharp eyes scanned each desk as pens scratched against paper. The air was filled with quiet determination and the occasional sigh from someone stumped midway through a calculation. Even Angela, known for nodding off in long lectures, now sat up straight, brow furrowed as she scribbled furiously.
As he paced slowly past the fifth row, Dr. Mensah approached where Alex sat, head slightly tilted, deep in concentration. His handwriting was neat, each line of explanation flowing logically. His equations were balanced, and his thought process showed confidence and clarity. Dr. Mensah slowed his pace and stood a few steps behind Alex, quietly reading the developing answer. The corner of his lips lifted slightly in approval. Without warning, he reached out and gave Alex a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Well done," he said in a low but clear voice. "Keep up that level of reasoning." Alex froze momentarily, blinking in surprise. Slowly, he turned slightly to see Dr. Mensah standing there. A murmur swept through the lecture hall—heads turned, eyes wide. Emily looked over from her row, lips parting slightly. Kenny nearly dropped his pen.
"Dr. Mensah just praised someone?" Mike whispered, stunned. John grinned. "This guy is finished with the quiz already in his mind." Alex nodded quickly and muttered, "Thank you, sir," before returning to his work—though now, his heart beat just a little faster, warmed by the rare moment of recognition. For the rest of the thirty minutes, the class remained unusually serious. No one wanted to miss their shot at impressing the famously strict Dr. Mensah. The silence was focused and intense.
When the thirty minutes finally ended, Dr. Mensah called for papers to be passed forward row by row. "You may not all be correct," he said, collecting the piles, "but what I want is to see your reasoning. That is the beginning of being a good nurse."
The class exhaled in unison—relieved, drained, but somewhat proud.
And Alex? He was still quietly digesting what had just happened, his friends giving him curious, admiring glances, and Emily—well, she smiled to herself, feeling something stir inside her.
Outside the lecture hall, the sun cast a soft warmth across the walkways as students trickled out in small groups, buzzing with post-quiz chatter.
Zara stepped out alongside her two closest friends Clara and Amanda, sharp-tongued and witty, and Blessing, the ever-chill, observant one. The three of them had stayed in the front row for the assessment, as always. Zara held her books gently against her side, eyes scanning the small crowd ahead.
That's when she noticed him—Alex.
He was standing just a few steps away with his usual crew: Kenny, Mike, John, Angela, and Emily. They were all laughing, clearly light-hearted after the surprise quiz. And Alex... he was smiling—genuinely, from the corners of his mouth to the gleam in his eyes—as though something one of his friends had said had really amused him. He didn't notice Zara watching him, but that didn't matter.
There was something so effortless about him in that moment. The way he leaned slightly toward his friends, the way his eyes shone when he laughed. Zara found herself pausing for a second too long, the faintest curve of a smile forming on her lips. "You're staring again," Clara teased beside her, nudging her with a playful elbow. Zara blinked. "No, I'm not."
"Sure," Amanda chimed in, raising a brow. "Just like you didn't stare at him at the cafeteria last week." Before Zara could even muster a defense, Clara continued, flipping her braids off her shoulder dramatically. "Anyway, let's talk about that quiz. Dr. Mensah nearly got me shaking. But yo, that chemistry question? I killed it."
"Same," Blessing added. "But did you hear? He actually praised someone today. Like… publicly." Zara tilted her head, curious. "Who?"
"Guess." Clara smirked.
Amanda grinned. "Your boy."
Zara blinked. "Alex?"
"Mmhm. Apparently, he was writing so impressively that Dr. Mensah literally patted his shoulder and told him well done. I'm not even joking. Half the class turned to look." Clara gave her a dramatic stare. "I was shocked. He barely even says 'good morning' to students. But to praise Alex like that? Hmm. The guy must really be smart." Zara's heart skipped slightly. She looked back toward Alex, who was now adjusting his bag strap, still chatting with his friends. Something about the warmth in his demeanor lingered in her mind. She tried to shake it off with a soft laugh. "Well, good for him. He deserves it." But as they continued walking together toward the cafeteria, her thoughts lingered—not just on the praise, but on Alex himself. That smile. That focus during class. And how, no matter what her friends teased about, she couldn't help but notice the quiet fire in him… something even money couldn't buy. And she was sure now—she had definitely seen him somewhere before
❤️❤️
It had been during one of the school breaks, months before the semester began. Zara had visited her auntie who lived in the countryside — a quiet, humble village not far from where Alex had grown up. Her mother had insisted she spend some time with Auntie Grace, hoping Zara would get a breath of real life away from all the wealth and closed walls she had grown up in. Zara didn't complain. In truth, she found something calming about the village — the red clay roads, the silence at night, the early morning sounds of roosters and cooking pots. Her auntie was warm and lively, and Zara had enjoyed watching her work at the market, chatting with neighbors who didn't care about last names or luxury.
When it was time to return to the city, Zara boarded the rickety intercity bus from the dusty roadside station. It was crowded that day, and the bus was humming with chatter, body heat, and the occasional radio music leaking from someone's phone. She found a seat by the window near the middle row.
That was when she noticed him — a quiet boy with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and worn shoes. He looked a bit lost, as though leaving behind a world he wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to. He sat just a row across from her, eyes mostly on the floor or peeking out the window. He didn't say much, but there was something about him — something thoughtful, even gentle — that drew her attention. They hadn't spoken. Not a word. But there were moments when their eyes met, and it felt like something passed between them. A silent recognition. A curiosity. A connection neither of them could name. She remembered he had gotten off in the city. And that was it. For months, she'd wondered who he was — and why that quiet boy from the village had stayed in her memory.Now here she was, seated in a high-tech cafeteria on campus, surrounded by friends who only spoke in social media tones and brand names. And that boy — Alex — sat just a few tables away, laughing quietly with his friends. He looked the same. A little older, a little more focused — but it was him.
Her heart did a tiny skip. A mystery solved.
Then her friend nudged her.
"Zara, hello?" Clara said, teasing. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."
Zara blinked out of her thoughts, smiling slightly. "No… just remembered something," she said softly, her gaze returning once more to Alex.
The cafeteria buzzed with chatter, chairs scraping, and the scent of warm food drifting through the air. Alex and his friends — Kenny, Mike, and John — had found a free table by the window. They dropped into their seats, exhausted but laughing from the intense class quiz earlier that morning. A few tables away, unknown to Alex, Zara sat with her friends, half-listening to them as her eyes occasionally drifted toward the boys — especially him. But for now, Alex was unaware of her presence. He leaned his elbow on the table, eyes tracing invisible patterns in his water bottle, still half in thought about the quiz. Just then, Emily reached into her handmade Ghana bag, the one she often carried, and pulled out a small packet of biscuits."Snacks, anyone?" she offered casually, placing them in the center of the table.
"Lifeline," Mike said, reaching first. "Bless you, Emily." They all chuckled. Alex looked at her, that same soft warmth flashing across his face. He hadn't said much to her since the morning hug — but it lingered in his mind. Suddenly, Emily's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, paused, then stood up with purpose.
"Where's she off to now?" John asked, brows raised. "Maybe she's got a date," Kenny teased, elbowing Alex subtly.
Alex just shook his head, half-smiling, watching Emily's form disappear into the hallway. Just a minute later, she reappeared — this time struggling slightly under the weight of four boxes of pizza and two large bottles of Coke.
"Whoa!" Mike exclaimed, sitting up straighter. Before she could wobble too far, Kenny jumped up, rushing to her. "Let me help with that, madam caterer," he said dramatically, grabbing the bottles with a grin. "Thanks," Emily said, a little breathless but smiling. As they returned to the table, setting everything down, the whole group looked between the food and each other in amazed confusion.
Mike blinked. "Emily… did you just… jump up like we were fighting for survival?"
"I saw a flash," John added with mock seriousness. "I thought someone had proposed." Laughter broke around the table. Emily brushed them off playfully, sitting down and opening the boxes. "It's the last lecture day for our major subjects," she said lightly. "A small treat to celebrate. No big deal."
"No big deal? You brought four boxes," Kenny said with a mouth full of biscuit, already reaching for a slice. Alex hadn't spoken yet. He was just… watching her.
The laughter faded into background sound for a moment as Emily met his eyes. Her smile shifted — subtle, warm, different. It wasn't playful or casual like before. This one had something else in it. Something honest. Something hopeful.
And Alex felt it — the quiet nudge of his heartbeat, the way his smile answered hers naturally. Maybe she hadn't said it out loud. But in that moment, he knew.
She still felt something.
The group had calmed into a comfortable rhythm now, laughter giving way to idle munching and soft chatter as slices of pizza disappeared and drinks passed around. "Next up," Mike said between bites, "Professional Adjustment. Honestly, I don't even know why it stresses me more than Chemistry."
"Because it's not just theories," Kenny replied. "It's mindset, ethics, and those long essays. You either get it or you don't."
John leaned back in his chair. "Let's form a group discussion after class, maybe tomorrow. We go over the lecture and past questions. Could help." Emily nodded. "That sounds like a plan. We should review the topic on leadership roles and delegation. Dr. Serwaa said it's a likely question." Alex, who had been unusually quiet in the last few minutes, finally stood up. "I'll be back in a sec," he said, brushing imaginary crumbs off his lap. "Mens' room." As he walked off, John turned to the others with a small shrug.
But before they could continue their chat, Emily also stood up, dusting her palms and adjusting the edge of her dress. "I need to make a quick call," she said, though she didn't look directly at any of them. She walked off—same direction as Alex. The table went quiet for a beat.
Kenny squinted. "Okay... what just happened?" Mike leaned forward, lowering his voice. "You all saw that, right?" Angela raised a brow, arms folded. "It could be nothing. But... it could also be something." John gave a lopsided grin. "I mean, they did have a moment earlier. 'Hope you slept well, pal?' Come on."
The group broke into quiet chuckles, stealing glances toward the hallway both Alex and Emily had walked through.Just a few tables away, Zara had paused mid-sip of her drink. Her friends were scrolling through their phones and chatting about someone's birthday party plans for the weekend, but she wasn't paying attention. Her eyes had followed Alex the moment he rose. And then, moments later, Emily followed in the same direction. She noticed the subtle change in the group's tone—how they leaned in, exchanged glances, then laughed quietly. She didn't know the joke, but she could guess the context. Her hand rested on her drink, unmoving. Emily again, she thought, watching the empty space behind them. Zara blinked slowly and turned her eyes away, but the feeling lingered. It wasn't jealousy—not exactly. But something about the timing, the closeness… the way Alex smiled at Emily earlier. And yet, the memory of that first silent moment on the bus with Alex—her moment—remained untouched in her mind.The wooden door of the men's urinal creaked open, and Alex stepped out, drying his hands with a tissue, looking calm and unaware of the quiet stir his absence had caused. As he made his way back toward their table, Mike leaned forward with a grin. "Guy, did you see Emily?" he asked, his voice laced with mischief. Alex slowed, confused. "Emily?"
Kenny sat up straighter, exchanging amused glances with the others. "Yeah. She said she was making a call—but she went the same direction as you." Alex stopped near the table, brows drawn together. "Huh? I didn't see her. I thought she went outside or something. She definitely didn't come to the restroom area." Now it was the friends' turn to frown. Angela tilted her head slightly, trying not to laugh. "Then where did she go?" John chuckled. "Maybe she was just... passing by the men's? Or maybe she thought she'd catch you." Mike grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "Or maybe she wanted to confirm something."
Alex gave a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "You people should stop."
Before the teasing could escalate further, Emily reappeared—still coming from the same hallway, her phone pressed to her ear. She was speaking in a soft, quick voice, still engaged in the call. Her expression was calm, and she seemed unaware of the silent curiosity building in her absence. "I'll text you the rest later, okay?" she said gently. "Alright, love to mum too. Bye." She hung up as she reached the table, smiling lightly.
"Sorry about that," she said, sliding into her seat. "It was my cousin. She just arrived in town." Angela blinked. "Your cousin? Ohh…" Kenny narrowed his eyes playfully. "Your cousin who just happened to be located near the men's washroom?"
Emily paused, caught off guard. "What?"
The whole table burst into quiet laughter.
Alex gave her a half-grin, still amused. "They were just wondering why we both walked off in the same direction at the same time." Emily looked around at them all, realizing the misunderstanding. "Oh no, no—I stepped outside through the side entrance. I didn't even notice Alex left." Her voice was calm, but her eyes flicked to Alex's for a moment, almost as if checking if he believed her. He simply smiled, a little shrug in his shoulders.
"Sure," Mike teased, dragging the word. "We believe you." Emily rolled her eyes and reached for a slice of pizza. "You all are impossible. A few tables away, Zara had watched Emily return and saw the playful reactions ripple through Alex's group. She couldn't hear the conversation, but she could read the body language. The laughter. The looks. The light air between Emily and Alex.
And once again, the weight of the moment pressed quietly on her chest.With the final slice of pizza devoured and empty wrappers packed into Emily's bag, the group stood and made their way toward the lecture hall. A swarm of students from all over the nursing department flowed around them, everyone dragging their feet a little after lunch, some chatting, others flipping through notes as they walked. As they entered the hall, Kenny looked at the time. "Let's just hope this isn't one of those long, dragging lectures." John yawned. "Even a short one will feel long with this heat." They settled into seats halfway down the hall, Emily and Angela beside each other, Alex, Kenny, Mike, and John forming a loose row beside them. As the rest of the class filed in, a familiar figure took the floor at the front.
It was Mr. Asare, the class P.A. (Program Assistant). His glasses rested neatly on the bridge of his nose, and he carried a pile of printed papers under one arm.
"Good afternoon, everyone," he greeted, his voice composed but casual.
The chatter dimmed.
"I have a quick announcement," he began. "Your Professional Adjustment lecturer, Dr. Serwaa, won't be able to make it this afternoon. She had to attend an urgent faculty meeting." A soft wave of murmurs passed through the room.
"But don't relax too much," he continued, raising a hand. "She left some important pointers for your end-of-semester preparation. So please take notes."
Students pulled out pens and flipped open notebooks. "These are the key topics to focus on," he said, reading off a printed list. "Professional roles of the nurse, ethical principles in nursing, delegation and accountability, leadership in nursing practice, and the impact of cultural values in patient care."
He paused to let everyone catch up.
"These areas are very likely to show up in your final exams. So study them well. There will be a short quiz next week as well." After the announcement, Mr. Asare took a few questions, clarified the quiz format, and then dismissed the class around 3 p.m.At the edge of campus, under the shade of a tall mango tree near the library lawn, Ryan sat with his two closest friends Leonard, the laid-back realist, and Bella, the sharp, observant girl with a soft spot for deep conversations. The three had become inseparable since admission day.
Ryan leaned back against the tree trunk, one leg stretched, the other bent as he toyed with a blade of grass between his fingers. "I'm not gonna lie," he said, breaking the silence. "This semester came fast. Feels like we just started last week." Leo snorted. "And yet we're already drowning in revisions." Bella chuckled, sipping from her bottle of water. "You guys joke too much. But seriously, these exams… they're not playing." Ryan nodded, but his thoughts weren't entirely on the exams. His mind had been wandering lately — especially when he saw Emily in class and couldn't shake the weird energy between them. Still, he pushed it aside for now. "We've come far," he said. "We didn't know anything about the system when we first walked in here."
Leo looked up, smiling slightly. "Remember when Ryan submitted his first lab report without his index number?" Bella laughed. "And Dr. Mensah almost gave him a zero."
"Let's not talk about that," Ryan said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.
They grew quiet again, watching as students passed by, laughing, talking, some hurrying toward hostels, others toward the cafeteria for round two of food. Then Bella leaned forward. "No matter what happens, we'll conquer the exams," she said. "You guys are sharp. We just need to stay focused." Ryan nodded slowly, looking out across campus. "Yeah. We'll pass. And maybe… maybe some other things will start making sense too."
Leo raised a brow. "Like?" Ryan gave a small smile but said nothing more.The golden afternoon sun stretched lazily across the courtyard, casting long shadows beneath the umbrella-covered benches where Zara and her two close friends — Clara and Amanda — were seated, sipping chilled drinks and laughing about a viral nursing meme Clara had just shown them.
Zara was radiant as always — her dark complexion glowing softly under the light, her laughter low and graceful. Her designer sandals crossed neatly at the ankle, her sleek ponytail catching the breeze. She looked every bit the calm, put-together girl everyone assumed she was. And then her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. "Mum calling..."
The smile vanished from her lips as quickly as it had formed. Her posture stiffened. The air around her shifted.
Clara noticed first. "Everything okay?" she asked. Zara didn't reply. She answered the call and turned slightly away from the table, voice lower, sharper now.
"Hello?"
There was a pause on her end as her mother spoke.
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied curtly. "No… I told you already, I'm still in class. Why are you asking again?"
Clara and Amanda exchanged glances.
Zara's tone grew tight, almost clipped. "No, I haven't heard from Dad. If he's not replying, then maybe he's—" she stopped herself, lowered her voice even more, and stepped away from the table. "Mum, I said I'm fine. Please don't start this now. I'm not in the mood." Her back was turned now, a few paces away, one hand gripping the edge of the bench, her voice barely audible. After a few more short replies, she ended the call and stood still for a moment, phone still in her hand, eyes distant. When she returned to the bench, Amanda was waiting with a cautious smile. "Was that your mum?"
Zara didn't sit down right away. She simply gave a tight nod, forcing a thin smile. "Yeah."
Clara tilted her head. "You okay? You kind of changed all of a sudden."
Zara hesitated. "We don't really talk much," she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. "When we do… it always feels like it's just to check if I'm doing something wrong."
Clara offered gently, "Want to talk about it?" Zara shook her head slowly, eyes drifting toward the distance—toward the lecture hall where she knew others were gathering again for Basic Nursing.
"Not now," she said. "Maybe later."
But inside, her chest was tight.
She didn't hate her parents—she knew they loved her in their own way. But being raised by a mother who was always on edge, and a father who was barely present—somewhere across oceans, always in a meeting—had left Zara with too many unspoken feelings. And she hated how even a simple phone call could turn her mood inside out. She pulled her bag closer and looked at the time. 4:50 PM. "It's almost time for the next lecture," she said quietly, her voice composed again. "Let's go." And just like that, Zara smiled again. But this time, it didn't quite reach her eyes.
❤️❤️❤️❤️
---The breeze had picked up slightly as the time pushed closer to 5:00 PM. Students moved in groups across campus, some laughing, some yawning, all heading toward the final lecture of the day: Basic Nursing. Zara walked beside Clara and Amanda, her steps graceful but slower than usual. She was quiet. The phone call still echoed faintly in her mind—her mother's firm tone, the disappointment tucked behind every word, and the way her father's absence always hovered like a shadow. She hated that it still affected her like this.
"Zara," Amanda said carefully, "you sure you're alright? You've barely said a word."
Zara nodded with a small smile. "I'm okay. I just have a lot on my mind."
"You don't have to carry everything alone, you know," Clara offered. Zara didn't respond right away. Her eyes were fixed ahead, where the large Faculty of Health Sciences Lecture Theatre was beginning to swell with students entering its double doors. They reached the building, blending into the crowd of white scrubs and buzzing conversation. Zara paused briefly outside the entrance, looking around almost instinctively. And that's when she saw them—Alex, Emily, Angela, Kenny, Mike, and John—huddled near the side wall, their laughter gentle, casual. Alex was slightly turned away, mid-sentence, his hands gesturing as he spoke. She didn't know why, but her chest tightened again. Clara touched her shoulder. "Zara?"
"I'm coming," she said, giving one more glance at Alex before stepping through the doors.Zara found a seat a few rows behind Alex and his friends. She always seemed to end up near them—whether by coincidence or something else, she wasn't sure anymore. Her friends flanked her sides, pulling out their notes. She sat upright, calm on the outside, but her mind buzzed. The words from her mother's call circled again.
"Are you sure you're not wasting your time there?"
"You know your uncle abroad still expects you to switch to something more meaningful."
"Your father won't say it, but you weren't meant to stay here long."
Zara clenched her pen a little too tightly.
She was here because she chose to be. Because nursing, no matter how unexpected it seemed to her family, made her feel something. Useful. Human.
And maybe… seeing Alex—so grounded, so kind, so unaware of the world she came from—reminded her of that decision. She took a deep breath and turned her eyes toward the front of the class as the Basic Nursing lecturer entered, placing a binder on the table and beginning to set up. The room quieted as the Basic Nursing lecturer, Ms. Boateng, stood before the class, flipping through a thick binder of notes. Her voice was calm, clear, and measured—someone who had taught the course for years and knew how to command attention without needing to raise her tone.
"Good evening, class," she began. "This is our final lecture before exams begin next week, so I'll be highlighting the core areas you must not overlook."
Students leaned in, pens ready. Alex and his friends shifted forward, Angela stifled a small yawn but focused. Even Emily, still holding the edge of her Ghana bag on her lap, kept her eyes fixed on the slides as they began to appear on the projector.
Zara sat still, her pen moving across the page as Ms. Boateng spoke:
"Roles of the nurse in community-based care..."
"Patient advocacy and record-keeping..."
"Professional conduct in emergency response..."
"Confidentiality and ethics…"
Despite the quiet, focused environment, Zara's thoughts wandered now and then—to her father in some boardroom across the ocean, to her mother who only called to correct or direct, never to simply ask how she was doing.
And yet, Zara wrote. Every line. Every point. She was determined. This was hers.
The sun had begun to dip below the sky as students filed out of the hall. The golden-orange hue bathed the campus in a soft light. Conversations buzzed again—some lighthearted, others full of exam anxiety. Zara walked quietly beside Clara and Amanda as they moved toward the shaded walkway near the gardens.
"I'll catch up with you," she said to them, stepping aside and pulling out her phone.
"Sure," Amanda said. "You okay?"
Zara nodded, already pressing Mum on her call log.
The phone rang twice before her mother answered.
"Zara. I hope you're not skipping studies to call me again."
"I'm not," Zara said, keeping her voice low. "I just wanted to let you know I'll be coming home this weekend."
There was a pause. Then her mother's voice sharpened slightly.
"You have exams next week. Why would you want to travel now? Don't tell me you're getting distracted again."
Zara's heart sank. She expected that response, but she kept her voice steady.
"I just need to be home for a day or two. I'll study from there. I promise I won't fall behind."
Another pause.
"Your father wouldn't approve—"
"I'm not asking to stay long," Zara interrupted gently. "Just this weekend. Please."
The line was silent again before her mother sighed.
"Fine. But don't expect anyone to pamper you when you come. You'll still do what's expected of you."
"I didn't ask to be pampered, Mum," Zara whispered. "Thanks. I'll be there Friday evening."
She ended the call before her mother could say more, slipped her phone into her bag, and looked up at the darkening sky. For a moment, she stood there, blinking away a flicker of emotion. Then she pulled herself together, smoothed the sleeve of her white nursing shirt, and turned back toward the main path—strong, graceful, and composed again.The campus lights blinked on one by one, casting a soft white glow across the concrete paths as the sky gave way to a deepening blue. The day's final lecture had ended, and students poured out of the hall in twos and threes, voices lifting in shared relief and chatter about exams and sleep. Alex, Kenny, Mike, John, Angela, and Emily walked together down the familiar path toward the hostel blocks. Angela, who had been unusually quiet throughout the day, slowed her steps to walk beside Emily.
She leaned in slightly, her tone low but sincere. "Emily… don't play around with this anymore. If you still feel something for Alex, just… tell him. Before it's too late."
Emily looked at her, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
Angela gave a half-smile. "I've seen the way you look at him. And I've seen how your face falls when he smiles at someone else. Just… talk to him."
Emily lowered her eyes, but she didn't respond right away. Instead, she walked in silence for the next few steps.
When they reached the hostel gate, the group slowed. Alex paused and turned, adjusting the strap of his bag.
"Alright," he said, smiling at the group. "I should go grab a taxi before it gets too dark."
As he turned to leave, Emily suddenly stepped forward.
"I'll walk with you," she said quickly, her voice steady, though her heart raced.
Kenny raised a brow. Mike and John exchanged glances but said nothing. Angela only gave a soft nod.
Alex looked a little surprised but smiled. "Sure."
The path was quieter now, lined with tall campus trees and the fading rustle of other students disappearing into buildings. Emily walked slightly behind Alex at first, her hands fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. Her thoughts were loud — louder than her footsteps.
Alex, walking beside her now, glanced her way. "Thanks for walking with me," he said gently.
She nodded. "I wanted to talk."
Before he could ask what about, they reached the taxi rank. One yellow-and-black cab waited just a few feet away, engine humming. Alex took a step toward it—but Emily reached out and gently held his hand.
He stopped.
"Alex," she said, voice trembling just slightly. "Please… wait. I need to say something before you go."
He turned fully to her now, his eyes soft with curiosity. "What is it?"
Emily took a deep breath. "I've been keeping this in for weeks… and I don't want to hold it anymore."
He didn't interrupt.
She continued, her eyes glimmering. "Back when we were getting close… everything felt real. When we talked, when we laughed, when you used to walk me and Angela to the hostel—I don't think you realized how much those moments meant to me."
Alex's chest rose slowly. He listened, closely.
"And then Ryan kissed me," she said, her voice cracking, "and everything changed. I didn't even know how it happened. I didn't feel anything in that moment. Nothing real. But what hurt most was how you started pulling away after that."
Emily blinked back tears. "I never got the chance to tell you that you're the one I liked. Not him. You've always been the one, Alex."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and vulnerable.
She looked down at their hands, still gently touching. "I don't know if it's too late. I don't even know if you feel the same anymore. But I had to say it. I couldn't keep pretending I didn't care."
Alex stood still, heart pounding. The hum of the taxi nearby was distant now—what mattered was standing right in front of him, finally telling him everything he had once wondered, hoped, and doubted.
He looked into her eyes, still holding her hand.Alex looked at her, still stunned. His fingers, warm in hers, gently curled around her hand, like anchoring her words in something real. The night breeze tugged softly at Emily's hair, but her eyes never left his. His throat felt tight—like something had been lodged there all this time, waiting.
"I…" Alex started, then paused, looking away briefly, trying to find the words. His voice was low when he finally spoke again.
"Emily, I thought I was imagining it all—that what we had… that those little moments meant more to me than they did to you."
She shook her head quickly, almost desperately. "They meant everything to me, Alex."
He gave a soft, shaken laugh, eyes meeting hers again.
"When Ryan kissed you that day… I tried to act like I didn't care. Like it didn't hurt. But it did. I didn't even know why it hit me so hard until I realized…" he hesitated again, but not out of fear.
"I liked you, Emily. I still do. I think I've just been trying to bury it. Telling myself to focus on school, to not think too far. But I've never stopped looking your way."
Emily's hand squeezed his slightly.
Alex's eyes searched hers. "You're kind. You're patient. You see people, really see them. And maybe I was scared that someone like you… could never feel the same about someone like me."
Emily gave a soft laugh through the tears in her eyes. "I'm feeling it, Alex. I've been feeling it this whole time."
They stood in that quiet moment, everything between them finally spoken, hanging in the air like a warm, vulnerable truth.
Alex gave a shy smile. "Would it be too much if I asked you to walk back with me to the hostel gate before I go?"
Emily laughed gently. "Not at all. Let's walk."
And so they did—side by side, no longer carrying unspoken words, no longer drifting in the silence of assumptions. Just two hearts, gently finding each other again.The path was quieter now, lit by evenly spaced streetlights that glowed a soft amber. Most students had already settled into their rooms or found quiet corners to study. The rustling of leaves overhead filled the silence between Alex and Emily, but this silence… it wasn't the awkward kind anymore.
It was comfortable. Full of meaning.
They walked slowly, not in a rush, both quietly aware of the shift that had taken place between them. Alex kept his hands in his pockets now, but every few seconds, his fingers brushed the edge of his trousers—remembering the warmth of Emily's hand just moments ago.
"So…" Emily finally said with a smile, tilting her head slightly toward him, "do you still think someone like me could never like someone like you?"
Alex chuckled under his breath. "I think… I've never been so happy to be wrong."
She smiled at that, eyes flickering with something bright. "You're not just anyone, Alex. You've always been someone I could trust. Someone I could lean on."
He glanced at her, moved. "And I never really stopped hoping you'd come back. Even if I didn't know it would be like this."
They reached the outer edge of the hostel blocks—the soft yellow glow of the porch lights washing the cemented courtyard.
Emily slowed her pace, knowing that in a few more steps, Alex would turn away and make his usual trip to the taxi rank.
But tonight was different.
She turned to him. "Thank you… for listening. For letting me speak. I know I caught you off guard."
Alex shook his head gently. "No, Emily. You gave me clarity I didn't know I needed. And I'm glad you did."
They both stood there, hearts steady now. Not everything was figured out, but something had been healed tonight. Something that had been held between them, unspoken and heavy, was now shared and lighter.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" he said, stepping back slightly.
She nodded. "You will."
He smiled. "Goodnight, pal."
She grinned. "Goodnight, Alex."
Then he turned, walking into the night, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in days.
And Emily stood there just a little longer, watching him fade into the streetlights, before turning back into the hostel… her heart full, for the first time in a long while.The hallway leading to Room 204 was quiet now, the buzz of campus life slowly dimming under the weight of the evening. The faint hum of a ceiling fan and the clicking of a pen echoed from behind one of the rooms as Emily reached for the handle of her door and opened it gently. Angela was sitting cross-legged on the lower bunk, her chemistry notes sprawled across the bed—but she wasn't reading them. Her head shot up the moment Emily stepped in.
Emily froze for a second, giving her a guilty, knowing smile.
Angela didn't even blink. "Don't say a word yet," she said, raising a finger. "Just close the door and come sit. I want every detail."
Emily laughed softly as she dropped her bag to the side and kicked off her flats. She walked over and dropped beside Angela on the bed, her face already beginning to flush with everything she was holding in.
Angela stared at her like she was waiting for someone to unwrap a gift. "So?" she whispered. "What happened?"
Emily leaned her head back against the wall and sighed—long, deep, and full of emotion. "I told him everything."
Angela gasped, sitting up straighter. "Everything?"
Emily nodded slowly. "I told him how I felt… how I've always felt. That the kiss with Ryan meant nothing. That it's always been Alex."
Angela's mouth dropped open in the best kind of way. "And?? Don't stop there, I need to breathe again!"
Emily smiled, her voice soft. "He felt the same. He's just been holding back because he thought I didn't care anymore."
Angela covered her mouth in delighted shock. "Emily. That's—okay. I'm not crying, but if I do, don't judge me."
The two of them laughed, the joy in the room soft and warm. Then Angela gave her friend a playful nudge.
"You should've seen your face earlier today when he was staring at Zara," she teased. "You looked like someone stole your lunch money."
Emily rolled her eyes with a smirk. "That was before I knew how he felt. Now I just feel… relieved. And hopeful."
Angela nodded seriously. "You should. You've always looked happier when Alex is around. Even when you were pretending not to care."
Emily looked down at her hands, twisting the edge of her sleeve. "I don't know what happens next… but I'm glad I told him. I feel lighter."
Angela smiled, pulling Emily into a quick hug. "I'm proud of you. Now let's survive exams and see where this story takes you."
Emily laughed. "Deal."
The two girls sat there a little while longer, sharing the soft quiet of honest friendship—no more assumptions, no more pretending. Just truth, and the kind of peace that only comes after being brave.The city was quieter by the time Alex arrived at the gate of his uncle's house. The porch light was already on, casting a soft glow on the steps. He paid the taxi driver and walked inside with a steady pace, the evening breeze tugging gently at the collar of his shirt.
Inside, the living room was dimly lit, the television on but muted. Uncle John sat on the worn couch reading a newspaper, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose. He looked up as Alex stepped in.
"You're back a bit late," he said casually.
Alex nodded, placing his bag near the door. "Yeah, we had a full day. Final lectures."
His uncle gave a short grunt of acknowledgment. "You look tired. Everything okay?"
Alex hesitated for a moment… then nodded. "Yeah. Just… thinking about the exams. It's been a long week."
Uncle John folded the paper and set it aside. "Well, don't think too much. Just do your best. You've always been a sharp boy."
Alex gave a grateful smile. "Thanks, Uncle."
And that was it. He didn't say anything about what happened with Emily—about the conversation that had shifted something deep inside him. He didn't speak of how light his chest had felt walking back from the hostel gate. For now, it was something he wanted to keep to himself… something just for him.
The sun hung lazily above campus, casting golden light across the modern glass windows of Silver Heights, the expensive hostel complex where Zara stayed. From her room on the third floor, she stood at the window, gazing out at the soft buzz of student life below.
Her suitcase sat half-packed on the bed—her sleek laptop tucked in carefully, a few nursing textbooks balanced beside scented lotion and a velvet pouch with her jewelry. It wasn't much—she was only going home for the weekend—but Zara still liked things done neatly.
Her phone buzzed again.
"Mom"
Call ended – 3 mins
Zara sat on the edge of the bed, twisting the ring on her finger. The call had been brief, but enough to stir emotions.
Her mother had hesitated at first. "Zara, you have exams next week. Are you sure it's a good idea to come home now?"
Zara's response had been cool, steady. "I just need a little space. I'll be back by Sunday evening. I promise."
And as always, her mother relented, more to avoid an argument than out of agreement.
Now, sitting in the stillness of her pristine room, Zara sighed. Her life often looked perfect from the outside—perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfect circle of well-off friends. But inside, Lonelier.
She stood, zipped her bag, and glanced at her reflection. Her dark, smooth skin glowed softly under the afternoon light. She was beautiful—and she knew it—but she often wondered if anyone really saw past it.
Especially him.
Zara thought briefly of Alex. Of how she'd caught his eye earlier that week. Of the way he looked away, as if unsure whether to stay or speak.
And of course, she remembered the bus ride—the very first day she came to the city. That quiet boy who'd sat across from her. The boy who kept looking out the window but snuck glances when he thought she wasn't watching. Something about him hadn't left her mind since.
She sighed again, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
A soft knock came at the door. One of her friend peeked in—Amanda, the chatty one, wearing oversized sunglasses and holding a cup of iced tea.
"You ready, Zara? We're heading out in five."
Zara nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."
As she followed her friends down the polished corridor, Zara felt something stir quietly in her chest—an unspoken feeling she couldn't name. But something told her… she'd be seeing Alex again soon.
And maybe next time, she'd finally speak.
The luxury Range Rover Velar, sleek and silver with tinted windows, glided down the smooth highway toward the Jackson estate. Inside, Zara sat quietly beside the window, watching the trees pass in a blur. Her posture was straight, calm—but Clara and Amanda could feel her silence.
"Zara," Clara said, nudging her playfully, "you really didn't tell us you lived like… this."
Amanda leaned forward slightly. "Girl, your mom sent an escort. With AC and leather seats that smell like heaven."
Zara gave them a tired smile, but her voice was soft. "She always does that. It's... nothing new."
The girls didn't press. They could tell Zara wasn't entirely thrilled about the luxury surrounding her—but that didn't stop them from admiring it.
As the car approached the gates, they opened automatically, revealing a massive white mansion that stood behind trimmed hedges and a paved circular driveway. The house stretched wide like something out of a dream. Manicured lawns rolled out across both sides, palm trees lined the entrance, and a cascading water fountain sparkled in the center of the roundabout.
"Oh my gosh," Amanda whispered. "This looks like the kind of place celebrities stay in when they come to Ghana."
The Range Rover pulled to a stop in front of the wide marble steps. The front doors swung open, and Mrs. Jackson stepped out—elegant as always, her presence composed yet warm. She wore a soft lavender gown with pearls at her neck and a smile that reached her eyes.
"My beautiful daughter," she said as Zara stepped out of the car.
Zara gave a half-smile and walked into her mother's hug. It was brief but not cold. Just enough.
"Mom, this is Clara and Amanda," Zara said, turning to gesture to her friends, who were still trying to take in the house with wide eyes.
Mrs. Jackson extended a hand graciously. "Welcome, girls. Any friend of Zara's is always welcome in our home."
"Thank you, ma'am," they both said in unison.
As they entered the house, the grand foyer took their breath away—a high ceiling with a chandelier made of cascading crystal, a staircase that curved in two elegant arcs to the upper floor, and marble floors so shiny they could see their reflections.
To the right was a formal sitting room with velvet couches, a grand piano, and wall-sized windows with white silk curtains.
Zara walked ahead like she'd done this walk a thousand times. "Come on. I'll show you my room."
Clara whispered, "If the foyer looks like this, I can't imagine the rooms."
The door creaked open, revealing a world all her own.
Zara's room was nothing short of stunning. It was spacious, with a pale blush and gold color theme. The walls were textured with soft ivory wallpaper, and a huge canopy bed sat in the middle—draped in white linens, golden tassels, and soft decorative pillows.
A sleek vanity table sat beneath a window, lined with perfume bottles and elegant makeup trays. A plush rug stretched under their feet, and in the far corner stood a reading nook with floating bookshelves and a velvet chair. Her large wardrobe had glass doors that revealed organized racks of high-end clothes and designer shoes.
Clara froze in the doorway. "Zara… this room is beautiful."
"I don't even want to sit on the bed," Amanda said, laughing nervously. "I feel like I need permission to breathe."
Zara chuckled faintly. "You're being dramatic."
Clara turned to her. "No, really. This is the kind of room I used to pin on my dream board back in high school."
Zara looked around the room, her expression unreadable. "I guess I just got used to it."
She moved to the window and pulled the curtains aside. Below, they could see a blue-tiled swimming pool, a tennis court beyond it, and a garden filled with rose bushes and trimmed hedges that spelled JACKSON ESTATE when viewed from above.
Amanda leaned closer to Clara and whispered, "She really lives like a princess."
And yet, watching Zara's face in the reflection of the glass, Clara understood something else: even princesses can feel like guests in their own castles.