I walked into the bustling school hallway, my mind already on Maisie. I've got to check on Maisie, I muttered to myself, a knot of concern tightening in my stomach.
Rounding the corner, I spotted Maisie slumped at her desk in our usually vibrant classroom, her head buried in her arms. "Hey Maisie!!!" I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the still-filling room. I approached my friend, a frown creasing my brow. "Were you sleeping? I've been calling you. Are you okay?"
Maisie reluctantly lifted her head, her eyes heavy and unfocused, as if I had dragged her from a deep sleep. "Yes. I'm fine," she replied, her tone utterly flat, devoid of its usual cheerful lilt.
Why is she talking like that? Is she angry? I wondered, my worry intensifying. "Maisie, is something wrong?"
"No, I just want to be left alone, right now. Do you understand?" Maisie's words, though quiet, held a sharp edge that I had rarely heard before.
"Oh, sorry for the disturbance," I mumbled, taking a step back. "I think I should let her be." I retreated to my own desk, my gaze flicking back to Maisie every few moments as classes began. Maisie remained withdrawn, a stark contrast to her usual bubbly self. Is it because of the competition yesterday? Did something happen after I left?
During the brief recess, my concern finally outweighed my hesitation. "Maisie!!" I called out across the room, weaving through the clusters of students. "I looked for you all through the school after the awards ceremony, but you were gone."
Maisie offered a brief, almost dismissive explanation. "I left early with my mom."
"Are you okay though?" I persisted, my voice softening with genuine worry. "You cried out in the hall. And you're just not yourself today."
"I'm fine." Maisie brushed past me, heading towards the window, her body language signaling a clear desire to end the conversation.
Something is definitely wrong. I felt a pang of frustration. "About yesterday, why did you leave early?"
"Nothing! I... just... had to go," Maisie replied, picking her words carefully, as if navigating a minefield. So she really doesn't want to talk about it. I decided not to press further, respecting Maisie's apparent need for space.
"Anyway," I began, trying to shift the atmosphere, "did you see the boy who took the first position? He was..."
"Xverna! Can you please leave me alone," Maisie blurted out, her voice laced with an unexpected irritation. I recoiled, confused and hurt. Did I do something wrong?
"Could you just go! Leave me alone," Maisie repeated, turning and walking quickly out of the classroom. I stood frozen, wanting to say something, anything, but the right words eluded me.
"Okay. I'm sorry," I whispered, feeling a sting of rejection. I walked slowly back to my seat, the carefree energy of the morning completely dissipated.
"Xverna, what's wrong? Did you and Maisie fight?" My seatmate, noticing my downcast expression, leaned over to ask.
"No," I shrugged, the single word carrying the weight of my confusion and hurt.
As the final bell signaled the end of the school day, I walked up to Maisie immediately after packing my books, determined to understand what had gone wrong. "Hey! Did I do something wrong?"
Maisie barely glanced at me as she walked past. "No, you didn't. I was just tired," she offered as a brief explanation, her tone still distant.
----
The next day, however, brought a shift. As I settled into my seat, Maisie approached me, a hesitant expression on her face. "Hey! Xverna, about yesterday... I'm sorry about the way I behaved and talked to you. I thought about it, and I was wrong."
Now she wants to talk, I thought, a flicker of resentment mixing with my relief. I raised an eyebrow at Maisie, my gaze traveling from her feet to her head before returning to my textbook, pointedly ignoring her.
"I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me," Maisie's voice grew pleading.
"Are you?" I asked, finally meeting her gaze, my arms crossed over my chest.
"Yes, I'm truly sorry. Please forgive me."
I considered my friend's earnest expression. "On two conditions."
"A condition?" Maisie's eyebrows shot up.
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"You have to answer a question of mine."
"Must I answer your questions, 'cause I know what you are going to ask," Maisie said, a hint of her old self peeking through.
"Yes. You must," I insisted, shaking my head slowly.
"Okay, what are the questions?"
"What makes you think it's more than one question?" I countered, a small smile playing on my lips.
"Is it not?"
"No. It's not," I said, my expression firm but softened by a hint of amusement.
"Okay, what's the question then?" Maisie asked, a touch of apprehension in her voice.
"Why were you behaving like that yesterday?"
Maisie hesitated, her gaze flickering away for a moment. "Must I really answer that question?"
"Yes, you must," I reiterated gently but firmly.
With a sigh, Maisie finally confessed, "Well, my mom scolded me for the third position I took."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, my initial annoyance melting into sympathy. "Are you okay?"
"It's okay. I'm fine now," Maisie replied, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness.
"But it wasn't your fault. You did your best," I reassured her.
Maisie didn't respond, her gaze drifting away again. "What is the second condition?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Did she just change the subject? Whatever. "Swap seats with my seatmate and sit with me."
"I would love to. I've been wanting to ask too. But have you informed her?"
"Yeah, I did. Yesterday, before I came to you."
"Okay, let me go grab my bag."
As Maisie moved to switch seats, I felt a sense of relief. The tension between us was finally easing.
During recess, now sitting beside Maisie, she leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't look... don't lift your head."
"Why?" I whispered back, my curiosity piqued.
"Xverna! Whatever I'm going to tell you right now, don't lift your head," Maisie insisted, her voice barely audible.
"Maisie, can you not go whispering in my ears like that," I said, a playful roll of my eyes accompanying my words.
"Just listen first," Maisie urged.
"What is it?"
"There's a boy over there."
"Where?" I asked, my curiosity now fully engaged.
"Outside at the window close to the first-row seats at the door side."
" Don't look..."
" Okay, okay." I said moving my head back down.
"What happened to him?"
"He has been staring at you for a while now."
"Huh?" My head snapped up despite Maisie's warning. My eyes landed on a figure standing outside the classroom window. Oh, I bet she's talking about Him. Jude Femi.
"Do you mean Jude, the boy that took first position?" I confirmed, my gaze fixed on the window.
"Oh, is that him? No wonder he looked familiar," she murmured, a flicker of recognition sparking in my mind.
"Why is he standing there and staring like that?" Maisie wondered aloud, a hint of unease in her voice.
"I don't know," I admitted, a strange feeling creeping over me.
"Did you go looking for his trouble, Xverna?" Maisie asked, turning to me with a teasing glint in her eyes.
"What? Why would you say that? Have you seen me talking to anyone else but you?" I protested, a touch of defensiveness in my tone.
"I don't think so. Then why is he staring like that?" Maisie persisted, her gaze returning to the window.
"I don't know. He has been like that since after the competition, and I'm starting to feel weird," I confessed, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach.
"Yeah, that's weird," Maisie agreed, her earlier playful tone now replaced with genuine curiosity.
At the Black House ~ Chloe
The small envelope containing the remaining cash felt thin and disheartening in Chloe's hand. What do I do? The money I have left is not even enough to start a good business. I can't even tell Moses about this. He has enough on his plate. Her thoughts spiraled, each one leading to a dead end. Then, a memory surfaced. Should I call Janette? She once offered to help. This is hard, but maybe I have no other choice.
With a sigh of resolve, Chloe reached for her phone and dialed Janette's number.
"Hello, Janette speaking," a cheerful voice answered on the other end.
"Hello Janette, it's Chloe."
"Hey, how are you?" Janette's warmth was immediately comforting.
"I'm fine," Chloe replied, trying to inject some positivity into her voice.
"Is everything okay?" There was a note of concern in Janette's tone.
"Yeah, all is fine," Chloe lied smoothly. "I was calling to ask if your offer still stands?"
There was a brief pause before Janette responded, her voice firm and reassuring. "Yes, yes, of course, it does. What do you need help with?"
Chloe took a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm thinking of starting a new business, but I don't have enough capital to begin."
"Oh!" Janette exclaimed softly. She remained silent for a moment, allowing Chloe's words to sink in. "What business do you have in mind?"
"I've several in mind. I just haven't decided which yet," Chloe admitted, her uncertainty evident in her tone.
"How much are we talking about?" Janette asked, her voice now more businesslike.
"A million," Chloe said in a near whisper, the enormity of the sum feeling heavy on her tongue.
"A million?" Janette's surprise was palpable over the phone.
"Yes."
"What do you need such an amount for?" Janette inquired, her tone serious.
Chloe explained her basic needs. "I need a stall, then equipment to start the business, then the capital for the raw materials for the business."
"Okay," Janette said thoughtfully. "That's one thing. I will get back to you this weekend, then we'll talk about this more. Before then, think of what business you want to go into. Have a clear idea."
"Okay. Thank you," Chloe said, relief washing over her.
"No problem," Janette replied warmly.
The call ended, leaving Chloe with a fragile seed of hope. That's a start. I hope it goes well. I really do.