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"Lies travel halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to pull on its pants…"
— Mysteryy2.0oh!
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MiMie : — Narration
Where to begin…
People like to pretend they'll magically meet their soulmate one day.
Maybe in a bookstore.
Or at a coffee shop.
Or in a moment so dramatic it deserves a soundtrack.
But what if—just a few moments before your wedding—you suddenly meet, or finally realize, who your real soulmate is… and it isn't the person standing at the altar waiting for you?
What would you do?
And more importantly… how do you even know that the person you're thinking about is truly your soulmate?
However, in Yola Town—my town—soulmates were the least of anyone's problems.
⸻
Welcome to Yola Town
A place where everybody knows somebody who knows somebody that knows you—or your sibling, your cousin, your friend, your friend's cousin. And with that came relationship drama.
In this town, news traveled faster than light.
And gossip? Gossip was the town's unofficial national anthem.
Yola wasn't the kind of place where secrets survived.
And rumors? Rumors didn't travel here. They nested.
People married who they were told to marry.
People loved who they were allowed to love.
And when someone stepped out of line, the town remembered.
Yola never forgot.
And it never forgave quietly.
⸻
Chyroma Amad Academy (C.A.A)
If Yola was pressure, C.A.A was a pressure cooker.
White buildings.
Perfect lawns.
Students trained to compete, dominate, and smile while doing it.
C.A.A was one of the nine (9) elite schools in Yola—though "elite" depended on who you asked. It had won the Elite Tournament title eleven (11) times, an achievement that still placed it beneath its eternal rival:
Ahmodu Rybadu College (A.R.C).
Fourteen (14) wins.
Fourteen reasons for C.A.A students to hiss whenever A.R.C was mentioned.
The rivalry wasn't just a competition.
It was generational.
Inherited like a family curse.
A.R.C students liked to call C.A.A "soft."
C.A.A students called A.R.C "brutal."
Nobody remembered how the rivalry started.
Everybody kept it alive.
So when three new students—including myself—arrived at Chyroma Amad Academy just barely five (5) weeks before exams, and barely a week before the Elite Competition, the entire ecosystem shifted.
Not because we were special.
Not because we were brilliant.
But because fate had a twisted sense of humor.
⸻
MiMie at the Gates
I walked through the gates like I already knew people were watching—and I didn't care.
My uniform was immaculate.
My posture straight.
My eyes sharp.
Whispers followed me instantly.
"Is that the ARC girl?"
"Why did she transfer now?"
"She looks familiar…"
I ignored them all. Because honestly, I understood—I'd be skeptical too.
The rivalry between my former school and this one wasn't just a competition.
It was generational.
Inherited like a family curse.
Which made the arrival of an A.R.C transfer student like me all the more… explosive.
But inside, my chest burned.
A.R.C hadn't let me leave quietly.
Neither had the girls I left behind.
However—
I wasn't here to start over.
I was here to finish something.
⸻
The Other Transfer Students
I was sitting in the conference room, waiting.
Nine (9) minutes later, Mushtafar Baba_Ali (Mustyy) walked in—dragging a backpack that looked heavier than him and grinning like school was a social experiment he planned to enjoy.
"New place, new people," he muttered cheerfully. "Let's see who survives me."
The moment he noticed me, he froze.
His confidence evaporated.
"Wow… so pretty," the words slipped out before he could stop them.
He coughed, trying—and failing—to mask the blunder.
Embarrassed, he shuffled, then slowly regained his composure.
He smiled brightly.
Good energy, I noted.
He sat across from me and waved.
I nodded back—uninterested, my mind already occupied with mapping out how the next five weeks would play out.
⸻
Tahir — Last to Arrive
Tahir A. Salman stood at the edge of Chyroma Amad Academy's assembly ground, hands in his pockets, watching people pretend they weren't pretending.
Couples walked too close for classmates.
Friends laughed a little too loudly.
Enemies smiled with teeth but no warmth.
Everyone here seemed convinced they were part of something important—something permanent. Tahir had learned early that permanence was a myth people used to comfort themselves when they lacked control.
Soulmates.
Destiny.
Meant-to-be.
Cute ideas.
Dangerous ones.
He glanced at his wristwatch. Orientation day. Late transfer. Endless noise.
It's 9:17am, 1st November, 2021.
"17 minutes late huh…"
He was already bored out of his mind.
With a slow pace, he headed toward the block where the conference room was located.
"Hmm… Orientation day, huh…" he murmured, looking up at the sky—clouds shiny and fluffy, like cotton candy.
⸻
Conference Room C
Seventeen minutes had passed since I'd sat down, still waiting for the officials.
I wondered what was taking so long.
Then the door opened.
And in walked Tahir.
My heart skipped—just a little.
I knew he was transferring here too. Still, seeing him now dragged memories to the surface. Not good ones. Not bad ones. Just memories.
I looked away.
He walked past me without acknowledgment and sat at the other end of the table, between Mustyy and me.
Mustyy was rummaging through his backpack, searching for a pen, when he noticed Tahir.
"Hello… dude."
"Yo. What's up," Tahir replied.
"Here for orientation too?"
"Hmm… seems that way."
"Oh—by the way, I'm Mustapha Baba_Ali. From Kaduna State. You can call me Mustyy."
He smiled brightly, extending his hand.
"Hmm. I'm Tahir."
"Nice to meet you."
"Okay," Tahir replied.
Mustyy then turned to me, shy.
"Um… sorry. I couldn't bring myself to speak earlier after I blurted out that you're pretty."
"It's okay," I said casually. "I didn't hear you."
Even though I did.
He looked even more embarrassed.
"My name is MiMie A. Jiddah," I added with a smile—one I wasn't faking. "Nice to meet you, Mustyy."
"Likewise… MiMie," he said, blushing.
Tahir remained uninterested, staring out the window.
As expected—he hadn't changed one bit.
But his presence here would interfere with my plans.
Which meant—
I had to make the first move.
I had to shut him up.
⸻
Three Minutes Later
The vice principal walked in.
Behind him followed two senior students—a boy and a girl—both immaculate, radiating authority, their presence alone declaring them rulers of this school.
And just like that—
Everything truly began.