I picked up the whiteboard marker and, with a dramatic flourish, wrote in bold letters:
"Countdown to Performing at California: Day 4"
The entire class immediately erupted in chatter. Some cheered, some rolled their eyes, and our maths teacher gave me one of those long, soul-draining stares before leaving the class in frustration. He had spent the last forty minutes trying — and failing — to publicly humiliate me. Poor man. He should've known by now that embarrassing me was like trying to sink a yacht with a teaspoon.
Finally, Ann was back. My darling bestie. My ride-or-die. My annoying, spoilt, protective, sisterly shadow. She hadn't been in school for weeks, traveling around Paris and flaunting her influencer lifestyle, and now she waltzed back in like she owned the place.
Of course, she was acting all big-sisterly, hovering over me, pretending to protect me from everything and everyone. So I gave her my own piece of mind — sharp, loud, and unfiltered. She just laughed and muttered "I'm sorry" over and over again.
"You know you kept interrupting my steamy Paris moments with those phone calls, right?" she teased, side-eyeing me with a mischievous smirk.
I gasped dramatically. "Excuse you? Steamy moments?"
Before I could press further, the whole class started buzzing again.
"Boy! I already booked my tickets!" one girl squealed.
"My cousins are going for the show too! I begged my mom and she finally said yes!" another chimed in.
"The show's in California, right?"
Everyone was vibrating with excitement. Everyone except me, of course — the one actually performing there.
Then Ann decided to flex. And when Ann flexes, everyone shuts up.
"My sisters and I are going for the show," she announced, tossing her hair like she was on a runway. "We hired a squad of guards and ordered tons of stuff just for California. You should see my customized diamond neck chain from Zila's. It sparkles like the heavens. And oh, my ring—" she wiggled her finger dramatically "—also from Zila, because I'm basically their VIP customer. Gorgeous, right?"
She held her hand up to the light. The diamond glittered so hard I think half the class went temporarily blind. The girls were gawping, wide-eyed, mouths open like baby birds.
I couldn't help but smile. Watching Ann show off always reminded me of the day we first met.
We were ten. Our moms had to collaborate on a comedy skit. Ann, even at ten, threw a tantrum about her makeup. "I want heavy makeup and it has to be done by California's most famous guru!" she demanded. She whined, she pouted, she stomped her foot until her mom finally gave in. After her glam session, we performed the skit, but the bond that formed afterward stuck for life.
Ann had always been like that — obsessed with makeup, nail polish, hair dye, and future plastic surgery plans. She used to say, "Once I'm twenty, I'm rebranding this whole body!" She was boastful, arrogant, beautiful, rich — basically, me but in another font.
But I'll never forget how both of us cried rivers when Mom announced we'd be moving to Nigeria for security reasons. That was the absolute worst day of our lives. Days later, we found out Ann's family was also relocating. I nearly jumped on the ceiling when Mom told me. Ann's dad moved to New York to run the HQ while her mom handled the Nigeria branches. Lucky me — my bestie wasn't going anywhere.
Fast forward, she's now a certified supermodel and influencer, hence all the Paris drama. But deep down, she was still my Ann.
I nudged her and whispered, "You still haven't told me about that guy you ditched me for. Spill every detail. And please don't tell me your body count's like… two hundred."
"You idiot!" she laughed, smacking my arm.
"You know you're the bigger idiot," I shot back. "Blocking me out of your life for some cheap dude?"
"They're not cheap!" she protested, ruffling my afro.
I slapped her hand away, frowning. "Seriously, leave my hair alone. It's not your pet."
She giggled, but then pointed subtly at Bernard. He was staring at me again. His eyes were full of emotion — the kind that makes you uncomfortable but also curious. I frowned, and instantly his shoulders slumped. Typical Bernard.
I glanced around the class. No Fred. No Zara either. Strange. Zara usually waited at the gate just to get my attention. But Fred's absence… that bugged me. I knew nothing about him. No address. No number. Nothing.
Great. Right?
I'd have to visit our class manager, Mrs. Stella. She always had her ways. And she loved gifts more than life itself. With the right bribe, she'd hand me Fred's details on a silver platter.
"Ann, come with me to the class manager's office."
"Why?"
"Just come."
"You don't command me, babe. And for that reason, I ain't going anywhere. Go to hell!" she huffed, pretending to be a wolf.
Do I always have to beg this girl?
"Please?"
"Make it sound tempting," she said, crossing her arms.
I groaned. "Ann, please. I beg you. Or forget it. And forget ever wearing those twin set jewelries you've been drooling over."
Her eyes widened. "You mean… the Al' Dorado Twin Set? The five-million-dollar ones?!"
I smirked. "Yep."
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Gimme one set. I'm your twin, remember! If I wear that jewelry and post it, my followers will explode. Al' Dorado will beg me to be their brand ambassador! This is destiny! Deal?" she blabbered in one long breath.
"Deal."
We shook hands, sealing the contract of our friendship.
"Let's go!" she squealed, dusting off her skirt. Her uniform hugged her perfectly — the flared green skirt, the crisp white shirt, the thigh-high socks. Of course she looked like she walked out of a K-drama.
She grabbed my hand, dragging me out of class like royalty parading her queen. We marched straight to the class manager's office. Knocked, politely this time.
"Come in!" Mrs. Stella barked, eyes glued to her laptop.
"Mrs. Stella! We're here!" Ann chirped, plopping into a chair.
"Bad manners!" the woman scolded.
"You don't have to tell us," I replied, dangling a shiny bracelet in the air.
Her eyes lit up instantly. "Ooooh! That bracelet! Hand it over and I'll do anything you ask!"
She grinned wide, flashing her yellow teeth. Ann gagged dramatically beside me, cringing so hard she nearly fell off her chair.
Gross. But effective.
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My hand is aching writing this, guys 😭 Wanna make it worth it?
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Love y'all 😘 Stay tuned for Chapter 12
Your favorite teen authoress 🔰📑
Oziomajasmine 💝💝