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HABBY'S LIBRARY, Osogbo (2026)

06/02/2026

HI GUYS, I'M BACK....

14/09/2025

🟠 YOU, ME & SENIOR YEAR 🔴🔴

Chapter Thirty-Three – Graduation Tension
By Author Habby.T ✍️
Genre: Drama, Romance, Thriller
Rating: 16+

Monday Morning

The halls of Crestwood High buzzed with a different kind of energy. It wasn’t the usual chatter about homework or basketball games. No, this was bigger. Graduation was close enough to touch. The walls were plastered with posters about cap-and-gown fittings, rehearsal schedules, and “One Last Dance!” Flyers for the senior banquet.

Everyone seemed to be moving faster, talking louder, living like the end was already here.

But for Amara, each announcement over the PA system only tightened the knot in her stomach. Graduation was supposed to be exciting. Instead, it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure whether the drop below was safe or deadly.

She walked to class, clutching her books a little too tightly. Fola was at her side, practically bouncing.

“Can you believe it?” Fola said, waving a flyer in Amara’s face. “Three weeks! Just three weeks, and Crestwood kicks us out. No more detentions, no more boring lunches, no more,”

“No more us,” Amara said before she could stop herself.

Fola blinked, then slowed down. “Whoa. Dramatic much?”

Amara forced a laugh, but her chest stayed heavy. “Sorry. Just… feels weird, that’s all.”

Weird wasn’t the right word. It felt terrifying. Because “graduation” didn’t just mean leaving Crestwood. It meant change. And change could mean Kai slipping through her fingers, no matter what promises he’d made.

In Class

By the third period, Amara noticed it wasn’t just her. Everyone was restless. Pens clicked nonstop. Students whispered about college letters and job offers. Even the teachers seemed edgy, their voices carrying a bittersweet weight.

Kai sat at the back of history, and the sketchbook opened on his desk as usual. Amara tried not to stare, but her eyes betrayed her. His pencil didn’t move much today, just idle lines and shapes that didn’t become anything. His gaze kept drifting toward the window, his jaw tight.

She wanted to ask what he was thinking. She wanted to reach across the aisle and press her hand to his. But she didn’t. Not yet.

When the bell rang, Kai slipped out quickly, dodging questions from classmates who wanted to know if he was walking at graduation. Amara’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t even picked up his cap and gown yet.

Lunch, The Elephant at the Table

By lunch, Fola had taken it upon herself to break the silence. She dropped her tray next to Amara’s with a dramatic sigh.

“I swear, if I hear one more person say ‘new beginnings,’ I’m going to throw this spaghetti at them.”

Amara cracked a small smile, grateful for the levity.

Kai joined them a minute later, sliding into the seat across. He didn’t say much, just poked at his food, shoulders tense.

Fola arched a brow. “What’s with you two? You’re sitting there like somebody died.”

Amara opened her mouth, but Kai spoke first. “Graduation,” he muttered. “Feels like everyone knows what’s next… except me.”

Fola tilted her head, then smirked. “Newsflash: none of us know. We just pretend better than you.”

Kai didn’t smile. Amara reached under the table, brushing her fingers against his. He hesitated, then let their hands link.

The contact steadied her, but it also deepened the ache. Because holding on only reminded her how easily things could slip away.

After School

Graduation rehearsal was chaos. Students tripped over each other as the principal barked instructions about walking in straight lines. The gym echoed with laughter and groans.

Amara stood in her spot, eyes scanning the crowd until she found Kai across the gym. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t groaning. He was staring at the bleachers like he wanted to disappear.

When rehearsal ended, she found him outside by the bleachers, and the sketchbook balanced on his knee.

“You didn’t even try to walk in a straight line,” she teased gently.

He looked up, eyes shadowed. “Didn’t see the point.”

Amara sat beside him. “Kai…”

He didn’t meet her gaze. “I don’t know if I belong up there. Caps, gowns, smiling for cameras. Like any of it means something.”

Her throat tightened. “It means something to me. To us.”

For a long moment, he was silent. Then, finally, he said, “I’m scared I’ll mess it up. Scared I’ll lose what little I’ve got.”

She reached for his hand again. “You won’t lose me.”

The words slipped out before she could second-guess them. His grip tightened, like he wanted to believe it but didn’t know how.

By Friday, the tension had thickened. The senior banquet was tomorrow, the last official gathering before graduation week. Fola was buzzing with excitement about dresses and music, while Amara felt like she could barely breathe.

Kai hadn’t said if he was going. When she asked, he just shrugged.

That night, lying in bed, Amara stared at the ceiling. Everyone else seemed ready to celebrate endings and beginnings. She just felt suspended between both, afraid of what came next.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Kai.

Kai: Can’t sleep either?
Amara: Not really. There is too much in my head.
Kai: Same.
Amara: What if everything changes?
Kai: It already has.
Amara: And us?
Kai: (pause)… I don’t want us to.

Amara pressed the phone to her chest, tears pricking her eyes. Maybe that was enough for now.

Saturday Evening

The night of the banquet arrived, and Crestwood shimmered with fairy lights and balloons. Students streamed into the decorated gym, buzzing with excitement.

Amara stood near the entrance, smoothing her dress nervously. Fola gushed about the decorations, about how this night was “going to be legendary.”

But Amara’s eyes were on the door. Waiting. Hoping.

And then he walked in. Kai. Black shirt, no tie, hands shoved in his pockets like he’d rather be anywhere else. But when his eyes found hers across the room, the noise faded.

For a moment, just a moment, it didn’t matter what tomorrow held.

He was here.

T.B.C.

31/08/2025

YOU, ME & SENIOR YEAR 🔴🔴

Chapter Thirty-Two – Promise and Panic
By Author Habby.T ✍️
Genre: Drama, Romance, Thriller
Rating: 16+

---

Friday Night.

The streetlamps outside Amara’s house flickered in the way they always did, buzzing like tired insects. Amara sat on her porch, her knees pulled close to her chest, trying to stay calm. But inside, her heart was a storm.

Kai had chosen to stay.

She should’ve been overjoyed. And in some small, fragile corner of her heart, she was. But the relief was tangled up with something darker, panic. Because now that he’d chosen her, chosen Crestwood, chosen this… what if he regretted it? What if his mother didn’t stop? What if she wasn’t enough reason for him to stay?

Her throat tightened just thinking about it.

The crunch of gravel brought her head up. Kai stood there, shoulders squared, his hoodie zipped up to his chin like armour. But his eyes, his eyes weren’t running anymore. They were steady, stormy but certain.

“I told her no,” he said again, as if repeating it out loud anchored the decision. “I’m staying.”

Amara’s chest loosened in relief, but the panic was still there, biting at the edges.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice smaller than she wanted it to be.

Kai tilted his head, brows furrowing. “Amara…”

“No, I mean,” She pushed herself up, hugging her arms. “She’s your mom. She’s not just going to let this go. What if she tries again? What if she makes you leave anyway? What if,”

“Amara.” His voice cut through her spiralling. He stepped closer, close enough for the porch light to catch the shadows under his eyes. “I said I’m staying. I meant it.”

But promises had been broken in her life before. That was the problem. She wanted to believe him, she did, but her chest still clenched with fear.

“People say things,” she whispered. “And then sometimes… they don’t mean them the way we think they do.”

For a second, Kai just stared at her. Then, without warning, he reached for her hand. His fingers wrapped around hers with a steadiness she didn’t feel.

“I’ve never been good at promises,” he admitted. “But if there’s one I can make, it’s this: I’m not walking away. Not from this. Not from you.”

Her breath caught. His words should’ve soothed her, but instead, her heart panicked harder. Because now she realized. losing him wasn’t just a possibility. It was something that would break her.

---

Saturday Morning

Amara woke up to sunlight streaming through her curtains, but it didn’t feel warm. Her dreams had been restless, full of strange images: Kai walking away into fog, his mother’s sharp eyes pulling him back into the dark. She jolted awake with her chest pounding, her palms clammy.

Her mom noticed over breakfast. “You look pale,” she said gently, spooning eggs onto Amara’s plate. “Are you feeling sick?”

Amara forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

She wasn’t about to explain that her panic wasn’t about exams, or school dances, or even the usual drama of high school. It was about the boy with stormy eyes and too many scars. The boy she was terrified of losing.

By mid-morning, she found herself at Fola’s door.

Her best friend opened it in her pyjamas, hair a chaotic bun, and toothbrush in her mouth. “Amara?” she garbled around the foam. “It’s Saturday. Why are you here at,” she glanced at the clock.. “ten a.m.?”

Amara chewed her lip, twisting her fingers. “I… needed to talk.”

Fola spat into the sink and ushered her inside. Within minutes, they were sprawled on Fola’s bed, the way they always did when the world felt too big.

“Okay,” Fola said, hugging a pillow. “Spill.”

Amara did. She told her everything—Kai’s mom, the ultimatum, Kai’s refusal. And then the part she hadn’t told anyone: the panic clawing at her since.

Fola listened, unusually quiet, until Amara finished. Then, she raised her brows. “So let me get this straight. The boy basically told his scary, red-lipstick-wearing mom to shove it, chose to stay here, and chose you. And your reaction is… panic?"

Amara groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I know! It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t stop thinking about it. What if she makes him leave anyway? What if I’m not enough for him to fight for next time?”

Fola pulled the pillow tighter. “Girl, you’re not panicking because of him. You’re panicking because you care. Like, really care. And that’s new for you, isn’t it?”

Amara peeked at her through her fingers. “Maybe.”

Fola smirked. “Not maybe. Definitely. And honestly? If he made a promise, maybe let him keep it before you assume he’ll break it. Trust, Amara. That’s the scary part, but it’s also the real part.”

Amara sighed, letting the words sink in. Maybe Fola was right. Maybe the panic was just another way of realizing how much Kai mattered.

By evening, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to see him.

Kai was on the porch when she arrived, sketchbook open, pencil tapping against the page. He looked up as she approached, something soft flickering in his eyes.

“You’re here,” he said quietly.

“I had to be.” She sat down beside him, the silence stretching. She watched his hand hover over the page without drawing a line.

“Are you scared?” she asked suddenly.

Kai blinked. “Of what?”

“Of her. Of all this.”

His pencil stilled. He didn’t answer right away. Then he exhaled, low. “Every second. But I’m more scared of leaving. Of losing… this.”

Amara’s heart squeezed. The words came out of her before she could stop them. “Promise me, Kai. Promise me you won’t go.”

He turned, his gaze locking with hers. For a heartbeat, she thought he’d hesitate. But then, slowly, he nodded.

“I promise.”

Her chest trembled with both relief and fear because promises could be broken, but this one felt like the only thing holding her together.

---

Sunday
Sunday morning dawned quiet. Amara tried to cling to Kai’s words to the steadiness of his hand when he’d promised. But the panic was still there, softer now, but alive, whispering in the back of her mind.

Kai, though, seemed different. Lighter. As if saying the words out loud had given him strength. He cracked a half-smile when she teased him about his messy sketches. He even let Fola drag him into their banter at lunch, rolling his eyes but not walking away.

For a little while, it almost felt normal.

But normal never lasted long in Crestwood. And Amara knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning.

Because promises could hold back storms. But storms had a way of breaking through eventually.

---

T.B.C.

26/08/2025

🟠 YOU, ME & SENIOR YEAR 🔴🔴

Chapter Thirty-One – The Real Test
By Author Habby.T ✍️
Genre: Drama, Romance, Thriller
Rating: 16+

---

Sunday Evening

Kai had always hated silence. Not the kind of silence that came when he was alone in his room, pencil scratching across a sketchbook, that silence was safe. He hated the heavy silence that pressed on a house when something or someone was waiting on the other side of the door.

That was the silence that filled his home on Sunday evening.

The knock came softly at first, then firmer, three times. Kai froze at the sound, a chill racing down his spine. He knew that rhythm. He hadn’t heard it in over a year, but it hadn’t changed.

His mother.

He swallowed hard, his hand hovering inches from the doork**b. Part of him wanted to bolt, to vanish out the back like he had so many times when she’d shown up in the past. But another part of him, the heavier part, knew he couldn’t run forever.

When he finally pulled open the door, she was there, tall, sharp-eyed, wrapped in a fitted black coat that smelled faintly of travel and old perfume. Her hair was pinned back, her lips painted in a bold red that clashed with the storm in her gaze.

“Kai.” Her voice was smooth, but carried that old edge, the one that made his stomach twist.

“Mom,” he said stiffly.

For a moment, neither of them moved. She looked him over from the hoodie he wore to the sneakers scuffed from yesterday’s arcade date with Amara. A faint sigh slipped from her lips, like disappointment she hadn’t even bothered to disguise.

“Are you going to let me in?”

Reluctantly, he stepped aside.

The house felt smaller with her inside, her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she set her purse on the counter. She didn’t sit. She never did. Instead, she circled the living room like she was inspecting it for flaws.

“You’ve grown,” she said, finally. “But you look… tired.”

“I’m fine,” Kai muttered.

Her gaze snapped to him, sharp. “You’re not fine. You’re wasting yourself here.”

And there it was. the first shot fired.

---

Monday Morning

Amara noticed it the next morning before Kai even spoke.

He was quieter than usual. Not the normal Kai kind of quiet,the guarded, careful quiet she’d grown used to, but something heavier. His shoulders were tense, his eyes distant, like he wasn’t fully there in Crestwood High’s hallway.

She caught up to him at his locker. “Hey,” she said lightly, hoping to catch his eye.

He looked at her, but only briefly. “Hey.”

The way he said it low, distracted, made her chest sink. Just two days ago, they’d held hands walking back from the pizza place. She could still feel the warmth of his fingers laced through hers. But now, he felt a thousand miles away.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

“I’m fine.” He shut his locker too quickly, the sound making her flinch. Then, like he realized it, he softened his voice. “Sorry. I just… didn’t sleep well.”

Before she could press further, Fola appeared, all sunshine and mischief as usual. “Hellooo, lovebirds.” She leaned dramatically against Amara’s shoulder. “Why does Kai look like somebody stole his puppy? Amara, did you reject his proposal?”

Amara shot her a glare, cheeks warming. “Fola!”

Kai’s mouth twitched like he almost smiled, but it vanished too quickly. “I’ll see you in class,” he muttered, slipping away.

Fola frowned after him, then looked at Amara. “Okay, what’s going on? He looks like he’s carrying the entire weight of Wakanda on his back.”

Amara bit her lip, worry gnawing at her. She didn’t know yet. but she was going to find out.

During the evening,

When Amara knocked on Kai’s door that evening, she half expected him not to answer.

But after a pause, the door creaked open. Kai stood there, hoodie on again, like he was hiding inside it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, though his voice wasn’t unkind.

“I was worried,” Amara admitted. “You were… off today.”

He hesitated, then let her in.

The living room was strangely tidy, more than usual, like someone else had been through it. Amara sat carefully on the edge of the couch while Kai leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“My mom’s back,” he said finally, the words flat.

Amara blinked. “Your mom? I didn’t know she,”

“She doesn’t stay. She just… comes and goes.” His jaw clenched. “And now she wants me to leave. With her.”

Amara’s heart stumbled. “Leave? Leave Crestwood?”

He nodded once, sharply. “She says this place is a dead end. That if I stay, I’ll end up like…” His voice broke off, and Amara didn’t push him to finish.

Silence pressed between them until Amara found her voice. “Do you… want to go?”

Kai’s eyes lifted to hers, dark and conflicted. “Part of me does. It’d be easier. No whispers, no stares, no…” He trailed off, and she knew he meant no messy feelings, no risk of getting too close.

“And the other part?” she asked quietly.

His hands tightened against his arms. “The other part doesn’t want to leave what I’ve found here.”

The way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on her, made her chest ache.

Tuesday,

The next day, Kai’s mom showed up at school.

She didn’t march through the halls like some caricature of a villain. No, she was composed, elegant, and speaking quietly to the principal in the office. But word spread fast. By lunch, whispers trailed through the cafeteria:

“Is that Kai’s mom?”
“She looks like a lawyer or something.”
“Bet she’s here to drag him back to Westmont.”

Amara watched Kai from across the room. He sat at the end of a table, untouched tray of food in front of him, staring at nothing. She wanted to go to him, but Fola tugged her wrist.

“Amara. Listen. If his mom’s back, things are about to get messy. You need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Amara whispered.

“For a fight,” Fola said simply. “Because she’s not just gonna let you keep him.”

---

Wednesday Night.

Kai’s mom waited for him when he came home from school.

“This isn’t a discussion, Kai,” she said, her voice sharp as glass. “You’re coming with me. Crestwood is poisoning you. You belong somewhere better.”

Kai’s fists clenched. “Better for who? For me, or for you?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “For both of us. Do you think you have a future here? Drawing in notebooks, wasting away with… people who’ll never understand you?”

Amara’s face flashed in his mind, her laugh echoing from the arcade, her hand warm in his.

“I’m not leaving,” he said quietly.

His mother’s jaw tightened. “We’ll see.”

---

Thursday.

Amara found him by the bleachers after school, sketchbook open on his lap, though he hadn’t drawn a thing.

“She wants you to leave,” Amara said softly. It wasn’t a question.

He nodded.

“What are you going to do?”

Kai looked at her then, really looked, like the decision lived in her eyes. “I don’t know. But… I don’t want to go. Not if it means losing this.”

Her breath caught. “This?”

“You,” he said simply.

For a long moment, they just sat there, the noise of distant students fading into nothing.

And when his hand found hers again, there was no hesitation this time.

---

By Friday.

The week built like a storm. Kai’s mom wasn’t done. Papers appeared on the counter, school transfer forms, and bus schedules. She packed half his things into boxes without asking.

But Kai stood in the middle of the chaos, heart pounding, a choice heavy on his chest.

Run back to the life his mom demanded. Or fight for the one he’d begun to build here, with Crestwood, with his art, with Amara.

Friday night, Amara waited on her porch, the streetlamps buzzing faintly overhead. When Kai finally showed up, shoulders tense but eyes clear, she knew.

“I told her no,” he said, voice steady despite the storm behind it. “I’m staying.”

Amara’s breath rushed out in relief, her eyes stinging. She smiled, soft and trembling. “Good.”

For the first time in a long time, Kai felt like he’d passed a test he never thought he could.

And with Amara’s hand slipping into his, he realized this was just the beginning.

---

T.B.C

16/08/2025

🟠 YOU, ME & SENIOR YEAR 🔴🔴

Chapter Thirty – A Real Date
By Author Habby.T ✍️
Genre: Drama, Romance, Thriller
Rating: 16+

---

Saturday morning..

Amara wasn’t expecting her Saturday to start with a knock on the front door. She was still in her pyjamas, hair puffed around her face like a halo of untamed curls, when her mum called up the stairs.

“Amara! Someone’s here for you.”

She blinked, half thinking it was Fola pulling one of her. I came to drag you out of bed routines. But when she shuffled down the stairs and opened the door, her hand froze on the k**b.

Kai.

Standing there in a clean black hoodie, jeans, and was that cologne? She caught the faintest whiff of something crisp and sharp, like cedarwood and rain. His hair was neater than usual, though still messy in that effortless way that made it seem like he hadn’t tried at all.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quiet as always, but there was a twitch of nervousness around his mouth.

She gripped the doorframe, trying to look calm even though her heart was already a runaway train. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

His hand went into his hoodie pocket. “I was… uh… wondering if you’d want to go out. Today.”

Amara blinked. Go out?

He saw the confusion in her face and cleared his throat. “Like… a real date.”

The word “date” hung between them, heavier than it should’ve been.

“A date?” she repeated, almost too quickly.

He looked away, scuffing his sneaker against the porch step. “If you don’t want to,”

“No!” she said, louder than she meant to, then flushed. “I mean… yeah. I want to.”

The faintest smile flickered across his face. Relief.

“Cool,” he said. “I’ll wait. Take your time.”

Amara dashed upstairs so fast her mum called after her, suspicious but amused. She pulled open her closet, staring at her clothes like they were mocking her. A real date. Did that mean she had to look… romantic? Or just like herself?

After way too many outfit changes, she settled on a soft blue sundress layered with a denim jacket. Simple, but it made her feel like she wasn’t trying too hard. She took a deep breath, whispered to her reflection: “It’s just Kai. Just Kai.”

But her cheeks were already pink.

By afternoon. They were already at the arcade

Kai’s version of a “date” wasn’t what she expected. He led her through Crestwood’s streets until they stopped in front of an old retro arcade. Neon lights buzzed above the door, and the muffled sounds of pinballs and 8-bit music floated out when he pushed it open.

“The arcade?” she asked, smiling despite herself.

He shrugged, eyes darting toward her. “I figured… less pressure than a restaurant. And fun.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “You’re not wrong.”

Inside, it smelled faintly of popcorn and machine oil. Kids half their age ran around clutching paper tickets, and the walls were lined with blinking machines.

Kai led her to the basketball hoop game. “Bet you can’t beat me.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Challenge accepted.”

Minutes later, the machine was rattling as she sunk ball after ball, her competitive streak on full display. Kai was good, surprisingly good, but Amara had focus, and when the buzzer went off, she was ahead by five points.

She threw her hands in the air. “Yes!”

Kai stared at the scoreboard, then at her, and for the first time, she saw a genuine grin split his face wide, boyish, completely unguarded. It made her heart stutter.

“Okay, you’re dangerous,” he admitted.

“Told you,” she said, pretending to blow on her nails. “Want a rematch?”

They moved from game to game. air hockey (she won), car racing (he crushed her), claw machines (both failed miserably). It wasn’t perfect or glamorous, but it was easy. It's easier than school, easier than secrets.

And every so often, she’d catch him watching her. Not with his usual guarded stare, but with something softer, like he couldn’t believe she was really there, laughing beside him.

-----
5 :39 PM

By the time the sun dipped, they ended up at a small pizza joint a block away. They sat across from each other in a booth, the red vinyl seats squeaking whenever they shifted.

Amara picked at her slice, suddenly aware of the quiet between them. The arcade had been noisy, but here, the silence felt sharper.

Kai broke it first. “I haven’t done this before.”

She tilted her head. “What? Gone on a date?”

He gave a tiny nod, eyes fixed on his soda cup. “Not like this. Not where it mattered.”

Her chest warmed. “Me neither.”

That pulled his eyes up to hers. For a moment, the world shrank to just the small table, the glow of the neon sign outside, and the way his gaze made her feel seen in a way no one else did.

“I like it,” she said softly.

His lips twitched. “Yeah. Me too.”

They ate, traded stories, small ones, and safe ones. She told him about the time she fell asleep during a math test and dreamed she was on stage singing Beyoncé. He admitted he once skipped class for a week straight just to sketch murals under the highway bridge.

And then, without meaning to, she asked, “Do you miss Westmont?”

He froze for a second, then gave a small shrug. “Sometimes. But not the way people looked at me there. Not the way it felt like I was trapped in someone else’s story.”

She wanted to reach across the table to touch his hand, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “You’re not trapped anymore.”

He looked at her for a long moment. And she swore she saw gratitude flicker in his eyes.

---

8:30 PM

They began the walk home,

The night air was cool when they left the restaurant, their footsteps falling into rhythm again like it always did. The streets were quieter now, lamplight pooling on the sidewalk.

Amara hugged her jacket closer. “Thanks… for today.”

Kai glanced at her. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do,” she insisted. “It was… real. I needed that.”

His jaw flexed, like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how. And then, hesitant, almost clumsy, his hand brushed against hers. Not holding, not yet, just the faintest touch.

Her heart jumped into her throat. She didn’t pull away.

They walked like that for a few steps, hands grazing, until finally, finally, his fingers laced through hers.

It was so small, but it felt monumental.

When they reached her house, he let go, stuffing his hands back in his hoodie like nothing happened. But his eyes lingered on hers longer than before.

“Goodnight, Amara.”

“Goodnight, Kai.”

He turned, melting into the shadows like he always did. But this time, she didn’t feel the sting of distance. She felt the warmth of something beginning.

Something real.

---

T.B.C

13/08/2025

🟠🟠YOU, ME & SENIOR YEAR 🔴🔴
Chapter Twenty-Nine – Trust
By Author Habby.T ✍️
Genre: Drama, Romance, Thriller
Rating: 16+

---

Tuesday Afternoon – The Call

The afternoon air in Crestwood was colder than it should’ve been for early spring. Amara sat cross-legged on her bed, sketchbook open but untouched, her pencil resting loosely in her hand. She had been tracing random shapes, half-moons, and crooked stars, not really thinking about them, thinking about him instead.

Kai hadn’t spoken to her after class today. No, thank you, no smirk, not even one of those quiet nods he gave when words seemed like too much trouble. But he had looked at her once, in the hallway, a look that stuck in her ribs long after she’d gotten home.

Her phone buzzed on the shelf, Unknown number.

Amara frowned, hesitating for a moment before picking it up.

“Hello?”

A pause, and then his voice, low, cautious. “It’s me.”

She didn’t need him to say his name. “Kai.”

Another pause, longer this time. “Can you… come ou at nightt?”

Her heart gave a quick, reckless jump. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

---
Nightfall- 8Pm

The streetlamps flickered as she walked toward the park near the school. She spotted him immediately, leaning against the swings, hands in his hoodie pocket, head tilted slightly like he was listening to something only he could hear.

“You’re late,” he said softly, but there was no bite in it.

“I had to make sure my mum didn’t think I was running away.”

A faint twitch of his lips. “Fair.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds, the kind that wasn’t exactly awkward but heavy enough to make her toes curl inside her sneakers. Finally, she asked, “So… why here?”

His eyes met hers in the dim glow of the lamp. “Because I don’t want to say this where people can hear.”

She swallowed. “Say what?”

Kai took a slow breath, and for the first time since she’d met him, he didn’t look like the boy who carried his secrets like armour. He looked tired.

“They were right,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “About the fire.”

Amara’s chest tightened.

“But not about why,” he continued quickly. “And not about how it happened.”

The wind picked up, ruffling the hood of his sweatshirt. His fingers flexed at his sides like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“It was last year,” he said. “Back at Westmont High. My little sister,” His voice caught, and he stopped, jaw clenching. “She was in one of the classrooms after school. I was supposed to walk her home, but I got into an argument with some guys outside. By the time I went in to find her…” He shook his head. “There was smoke everywhere. Someone had lit the trash bins in the hallway on fire. It spread too fast.”

Amara’s breath hitched. “Was she?”

“She’s fine,” he said quickly, eyes locking onto hers. “I got her out. But the school blamed me because the guys I argued with told the principal I’d threatened to ‘burn the place down.’”

Her fists curled at her sides. “They lied.”

“Yeah. But no one believed me. And my parents,” His voice dropped. “They didn’t fight for me. They said maybe it was better to move schools and let it go.”

Amara stared at him, the weight of what he’d carried pressing against her ribs. “That’s not letting it go. That’s letting them rewrite your life.”

His laugh was short and bitter. “Story of my year.”

They stood in silence again, except now it wasn’t heavy with distance. It was heavy with the truth.

“You could’ve told me earlier,” Amara said finally, her voice softer than she meant it to be.

“I didn’t trust anyone to believe me,” he admitted. “Until you.”

Something inside her cracked, warm, and aching at the same time. “I believe you,” she said, and she meant it so hard it almost hurt.

His eyes searched hers in the dim light, like he was making sure she wasn’t lying. Then, without a word, he stepped closer. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that she could see the sharp line of his jaw and the way his lashes caught the light.

“You’re dangerous, Amara,” he murmured.

She blinked. “Dangerous?”

“You make me want to talk,” he said, and it sounded like a confession.

They didn’t speak much after that. He walked her home, their steps falling into the same quiet rhythm. It wasn’t awkward, it was something else, something that felt like a fragile bridge built between them, one step at a time.

When they reached her street, he stopped. “Don’t tell anyone.”

She nodded. “I won’t.”

He studied her for a moment longer, like he was memorising her face in the yellow glow of the porch light. Then he turned and walked away, and the hoodie pulled up, disappearing into the night.

Amara stood there long after he was gone, her breath fogging the cold air. And for the first time since she’d met him, she felt like she wasn’t just curious about Kai — she was part of his story now.

---

T.B.C

HABBY'S LIBRARY

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