School can be a warzone — especially when you're carrying secret battles inside you. But somehow, being around my friends made the chaos feel… survivable.
Kim was the loud one. Grace was the classy one. Muna was the unpredictable one. And me? I was the quiet one who sometimes laughed so hard I cried, and sometimes just… cried. And yet, they loved me anyway.
We had a spot near the mango tree, far from the classrooms but close enough to hear the bell. That was our spot. Where we ate spring rolls, gossiped about teachers' weird habits (Mr. Douglas always sniffed after every sentence, by the way), and argued about whether plantain chips were overrated. I always said they weren't. Obviously.
Gerald usually showed up uninvited, holding his bag like it weighed nothing and chewing gum like it was a personality trait.
He and I had become closer over time — not in a Prince kind of way (thank God), but in a weird, bantery friendship where he just wouldn't stop teasing me.
"You still growing?" he said one day, eyeing me from head to toe with that annoying grin.
I stared at him. "You still chewing like you're processing thoughts?"
The others burst out laughing, and Gerald looked fake offended. "I'm not short-shaming. I'm height-appreciating."
"Appreciate yourself in silence."
That's how it was. Every single day.
What I didn't expect was the way he somehow always checked on me when I was quiet. Like when I zoned out during lunch, just staring at my hand and thinking too much, he nudged me gently with his elbow.
"You good?"
I nodded, then asked him for the meat pie he always pretended not to want.
"No," he said. "But yes." And he handed it over anyway.
Sometimes I wonder how people like me — quiet, broken in places, unsure of how to belong — end up surrounded by the best kind of noise.
Kim's laughter.
Grace's voice notes about crushes.
Gerald's bad jokes.
Muna's dramatic sighs.
All of it wrapped around me like a blanket. Warm. Loud. Healing.
I still hid my hand most of the time. I still slept facing the wall at night, whispering things to God I didn't have the courage to say aloud. But during the day, with them… I felt seen. Not in a spotlight way. But in a "you don't have to explain yourself here" kind of way.
And for a girl like me, that meant everything.