Lola Dideolu has been obsessed with death for long. The best method to end it, the best location, the best time ... she has everything covered.
But when she gets detention on her birthday, the day she's decided to kill herself, Lola knows she must ditch school and say goodbye to a mother who hates her guts; a best friend who was never a friend; an obsessive ex who always has a trick up his sleeves; and a very dirty secret that must never be put out there.

Her plan seems foolproof, until Ayo her ex's twin brother ditches school too and won't leave her alone. With each hour they spend outside school, her walls crack. But isn't it too late to let her walls crumble?

7:28 am
⁣

I don't have a bucket list, nothing physical everything is all in my head. Engraved in my mind and they are: to avoid mom, go to school, avoid Kim, avoid Seun, come back home, and end it. ⁣

It’s funny though, right? For a girl who loves writing so much, why won't I just write a list? For weeks upon weeks, all I've done was to write my story, bit by bit. From how everything started...⁣
⁣
My throat closes up like there's a cotton ball stuffed in there. I try to still my trembling lips and put on an I-don’t-care mask as I shove my journal and camera into my backpack. But tears drop and this time it’s hard to stop my hands from shaking. Can you just get a grip on yourself?!


But who am I kidding? I hardly eat and getting a good night's rest has been difficult for two months now. How can I when the nightmares won't stop? These shouldn’t even be happening, every time I see him, I’m reminded that this happened years ago.

One minute, I close my eyes with tears streaming down my cheeks and the next minute—if I'm lucky to get any sleep—I find myself standing with Demola, my baby brother in the middle of an expanse of grassland. Most times, I try to hold him and tell him I’m sorry, but then he keeps disappearing into thin air. Last night though, I held his small, cold hand and followed him.⁣
⁣⁣
A sign… it’s all I ever needed. You can ask the universe for all the signs, but ultimately, we see one when we are ready to see it. I have seen the sign, and it's time to join him.⁣
⁣
Snif, snif. I swallow the lump in my throat as the pink, empty walls in my room blur beneath my tears. The walls are blank now: Nicki's, B.O.B's, and a ton of movie posters on my walls are gone now. So are my pictures, shoes, and clothes—all gone! All packed into boxes and hidden in the bathroom.⁣
⁣
My eyelids flutter, and more tears fall. It's like something is right there, in my chest twisting over and over and I can't stop it. It's the type of pain that doesn't just tug at your heart, but it sits there, waiting until the end. ⁣
⁣
I move to the mirror, sniffing and wiping the running snorts off my nose with the collar of my shirt. It stinks like sweat and weed. The odor is enough to make a non-smoker puke, but for me, it makes me feel better. It’s the only way to push everyone away and hide my scars. The scars that created the new Lola Dideolu.⁣
⁣
Isn't it crazy how things change? Former Lola would strive to look happy even if it means partying, drinking, smoking, and all sorts, but now Lola is skinny with papery skin. ⁣
⁣
I sigh, pick my backpack on the bed, head out of the room, and as much as I try keeping my hands anywhere but my hair but I can't. So I run my hands over my kinky hair each step of the way then wipe my cheeks dry. ⁣
⁣
Downstairs, my mom—clad in her grey dress-uniform, an apron around the waist and hair packed in a neat bun–is arranging the cutlery on the dining table. This means Mr. and Mrs. Carter will be out at any moment for coffee.⁣
⁣
A weight settles on my heart when a spoon falls from her shaky hand, causing a loud clatter. I make a move to help her but stop, remembering the things she said last night: “You're ungrateful.” ⁣
⁣
Why should I be grateful?—⁣
⁣
“Yea,” Seun’s voice floats into the dining area, making my brain stutter for a moment as every part of me goes on pause while my thoughts catch up. I should go back to my room, let him leave the dinning.

“Yes, the locker. Do it,” Seun continues past my mom, his voice creating a crawling feeling all over my skin.
⁣
I wait until my mom leaves for the kitchen too then clench the straps of my backpack and quietly ran for the door and out into the warm morning. Seun mustn't see me. Last night, I did something I had never imagined doing—I walked out on him. He would have been thrilled beyond words if he saw me now. I can already guess what he would say to me with that irritating, taunting tone of his. "Heyyy, Lola." That voice sends chills through my bones every single time. ⁣
⁣
I hate him. I hate Seun so much I want to do something terrible... anything that stops him from breathing.⁣

I quicken my pace through the tree-lined driveway and the ornate main gate and glance at the beige, stone, and brick mansion one last time. It's hard to keep going even though I can never get used to the lavishness that is everywhere in the Carters' house, this is my home too. This morning, I'm walking out of here but tonight things will be different for everyone, even for the Carter family.⁣
⁣
The almost-quietness in the neighborhood is deafening; I can only hear Mrs. Montgomery's heels clicking on the tarred road as she tried getting her two young boys into the vehicle. ⁣
⁣
They don't listen; they never do, no matter how much she screams. She's a stoic kind of person who thinks everyone should bow to her wishes, but it surprises me her children never listen to her. Mrs. Montgomery visits Seun's mom once in a while, not because they like each other though (I've caught her glaring at Mrs. Carter) but because they love to gossip. It's what the rich people in Castle-way does when they aren't outside the country on vacation.⁣
⁣
Mrs. Montgomery claps, “Get back here.” She barks, storming towards the car door, but before opening it, one of her sons runs towards the street as a man driving white, moving-van punches the horn and stops before crushing him.
⁣
“Frank!” Mrs. Montgomery cries as a man wearing washed-out jeans rushes out of the van. “Oh, God!” he says.⁣
⁣
I'm frozen to a spot, and it takes every nerve in me to look away. I'm too dazed to do anything, not even to rush over and help the kid. It's too much for me. Seeing the kid struggle to get up brings back haunting memories, I've tried so hard to bury.⁣
⁣
No. No. No. I swallow. You've got to forget it. ⁣
⁣
I can see Demola's face.
⁣
No. Stop thinking about him.⁣
⁣
I close my eyes. Look away.⁣
⁣
⁣
Demola's lying in a pool of blood.⁣
⁣
⁣
No. Just walk away.⁣
⁣
⁣
It's entirely your fault—⁣
⁣
The blaring sound of a car horn jolts me out of the torturous memory. My shoulders stiffen when I remember it could be Seun, but on turning, I see Ayo, Seun's twin brother, driving slowly next to me. My body slumps and a slight groan escape my mouth. ⁣
⁣
But then again, I tense. It's Ayo. He's still a Carter. He shares a family with my nemesis, and no matter how much they hate each other's guts, Ayo can never be my friend.

"The weather guy says it'll rain today," he says, and on instinct, I look at the clear blue sky then frown at him. "So... you need a ride? Look, I know you won't answer me, but I won't leave you."⁣
⁣
You sound like a stalker. I want to say to him rather, I say, "No, " my voice is calm but firm. ⁣
⁣
I don't need a ride, but will he ever stop trying? Doubt it. For two months now, ever since he found me crying that night, he's been trying so hard to play nice. Talk about being a coward. He waited until Seun and I were officially done. ⁣
⁣
Whatever his problem is, I don't care, and he shouldn't too. It's not like he knows what my plans are, but if he doesn't stop knocking on my door, offering me a ride or sitting behind me in class, he may hinder everything⁣
⁣
Ayo rests his arm on the car door, plastering his face with a smile. "Please, get in. You know it's faster."⁣
⁣
I cross my arms over my chest, watching him as he replaces his right hand on the steering then fingers his honey brown curls. He doesn't pack it up with a rubber band this time, he lets his hair rumple down at the sides of his face, cupping his high cheekbones.⁣
⁣
"Lola?"⁣
⁣
"Go away, Ayo," I scowl at him, clenching the straps of my backpack. ⁣
⁣
"C'mon, get in. I want to help," he says. "Pay me. I can be your taxi driver. So get in."⁣
⁣
I hate it when someone tries to tell me what to do. It makes me feel worthless like a dummy that can't think without someone's help. Maybe I'm a failure, but still... I hate the feeling of being controlled or restrained. It reminds me of everything. It reminds me of Seun.⁣
⁣
A small wind swings the trees on the sidewalk and swirls the leaves on the floor. I keep my head down as tears threaten to fall again. Don't be a weakling. ⁣
⁣
"Don't do this to yourself," Ayo breathes hard. Is he mad at me? Oh no, he has no right to get mad at me. "Who prefers walking to getting a ride? I'm trying to help. Stop acting like this."⁣
⁣
Ayo is right. My gut keeps churning, and my legs are weak. Each step I take reminds me I'm fragile and hungry, but at the sight of food, my appetite disappears. Yea, I do need a ride, but I won't take any help from him.⁣
⁣
"Thank you very much; I can walk."⁣
⁣
Why does he suddenly want to be my friend? I'm just their maid's daughter, and if we never left Nigeria for the United States, we would never have met. He's way out of my league, the same with Seun, and if I had listened to mom, maybe I won't be this broken. ⁣
⁣⁣
"I tried," he grunts, and I don't have to look at his face to know what he's thinking or know how hurt he is. I expect him to speed past me, but he doesn't. Just go, Ayo.⁣
⁣⁣
I'm about to pull out my earpiece and phone from my backpack when I spot Seun's red Jeep wrangler from the side view, leaving their compound. ⁣
⁣
My blood turns chill. I turn to Ayo, who catches my eyes and for some reason, worry crosses his face. He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it. ⁣
⁣
I glance over my shoulder again. Oh, no. Seun is closing in. My gaze cuts back to Ayo, and I can't help the way my legs tremble as if they've been dipped in a bucket of ice. ⁣
⁣
"Ayo, wait," I run to the passenger's side, tap the door, and as soon as he stops, I get in and slide down the seat, so Seun won't see me. As soon as Seun's car buzzes by I sit up. "T-thanks," ⁣
⁣
I feel like an idiot sitting next to Ayo as he stares at me. It's right there, in his face. He wants to talk. The universe must be having a field day already because one minute I don't want his help, and now, look at me. I'm nothing but a scared chicken, and once again, Ayo is saving me like always. ⁣
⁣
He clears his throat as we move. ⁣
⁣
"So..." he trails off as his gaze bounces around before finding me again. "You okay? Right?"⁣
⁣
I nod and sit forward, trying to take my backpack off my back so I can get my phone and earpiece. Ayo clears his throat again. “Why are you scared of him?”⁣
⁣
I say nothing. I understand why I'm scared of Seun, but the reasons are meant to be buried. ⁣
⁣
"Just..." I trail off, running my palm over my hair. "Drop it."⁣



Check back next Monday for another chapter! And please, check out my website for more interesting stuff https://dearweekly..com

Hey guys! What do you think about this chapter? Any ideas and improvement? It’s the first draft but please try and understand. Please, don’t forget to drop your comments and oh! Share with your friends too.

I love your cryptic way of telling the story, I mean we only got to know of Lola's financial status until much later. It's a really nice story, just please don't keep us waiting too long.
I'm surprised I'm the first to comment, you should try mentioning people in your subsequent updates. More ink to your pen

Faybay:
I love your cryptic way of telling the story, I mean we only got to know of Lola's financial status until much later. It's a really nice story, just please don't keep us waiting too long.
I'm surprised I'm the first to comment, you should try mentioning people in your subsequent updates. More ink to your pen

Thank you very much. Updates is coming tonight. And thanks for the tip too.

7:52 am

The morning after Seun and I broke it off (or I can as well say we broke it off way before that. Kinda off and on), I sat down in the classroom and listened to principal Ellen through the public address system as she said, 'Education is the key to unlocking the world, a passport to freedom. It never made sense then and it never does now. How can school ever be my passport to freedom when Seun is still alive?

I don't even know the point but I've loathed the word freedom ever since principal Ellen referred to Oprah Winfrey’s quote. I hate everything. I hate school. I hate her…

I’m sure if people had the chance to see my thoughts, people would think I’m rotten and crazy, ungrateful and vindictive—-add that to the list of crappy things I am.

Here's how I see school: it's a place for the likes of Seun, John (the not-so-rich wannabe jock), and Garry (the son of a top-shot IP attorney and friend of Mr. Carter, Seun and Ayo's dad) to bully people. To bully me.

And right now, sitting next to Ayo in his car and watching people troop into the school makes it worse. Can I make it through the day?

I shut my eyes, taking huge breaths as I wrap my fingers around my hair for the hundredth time. Stone Valley High is not a place for me. I see everyone I don’t want to be around every day, I share the same classrooms with them but deep down, I know what they think of me. I'm useless.

Everything here chokes me; the voices, the deodorants, the teachers... every single person.

"We'll be late for geography, " Ayo says. "You have geography too now, right?"

I turn to see him raise a brow at me. There’s a small smile curling up the corners of his mouth but not the happy kind. I see pity. I see someone who wants to know everything.

No chance, Mr. man.

So, I force a smile and hope the awkwardness of the moment will just go. Just go to class Lola. I say in my head but the thought of stepping out there stifles my muscles. I don't want to be here with Ayo neither do I want to be out there with everyone.

"Thanks for the ride, " I say then stare ahead, at the school entrance.

"There's no monster in there. No one will eat you, Lola," he laughs but stops when I glare at him.

My lips draw into a harsh line and again, I remember the times when I tried to talk to him and how he waved me off. Now, he wants to laugh? What's so funny about any of this? Besides, this is my pain and the hell I go through every day, he should never laugh about that.

I shake my head, push the door open then glance over my shoulder. "Not everything is funny." Without waiting for his response, I slam the door hard, catching Lily--Kim's new friend--squeezing her lips together like someone who just tasted something bitter.

"Ode," I mutter, throwing her the harshest, stink eye I could muster and watch her lower her gaze from me, then jog up the stairs.

I follow too, the peachy air freshener, noisy chatter, and perfumes from other kids are the first thing that welcomes me. Out of curiosity, I look over my shoulder to see if Ayo is following me. He is lost at the bottom of the stairs among a few students.

The hall is crowded with people, and the disarray is so messy, like a market place. And that's why I hate school. It's like I'm against the world: me against enemies every single time. Too many people in a place.

There are the chess club members hanging up posters for the next tournament and opposite them are the school jocks who never do anything but pull pranks on other kids, there is the group who thinks they are too intellectually sound to mix with others, there is the group of girls… girls like Kim. And then there's me, I used to be part of the visual art club but… I just don't think I fit into anything anymore.

Keeping my head down, I drag my way through the sea of faces, and snort as I walk under the banner: "Education is key." Just another annoying quote of the week to encourage students to learn. Stone Valley is always here to remind us of the consequences of failure.

I take a sharp turn to the left and come to a halt when I see a picture on my locker. It's not clear but if anything is on my locker then it can't be something good. It has to be… bad.

I grind my teeth together and hold a part of my hair in a tight grip. What is that picture? What?... it's bad… I know it's bad.

My breath is shaky and my legs move and move until I’m standing in front of my locker and then I see it. The picture is like a time machine that takes me back to that night when I made the dumbest decision. My eyes are tight shut in the picture and no matter how much I try to push everything away, the memory is there like it happened only a moment ago.

No one must see this. I snatch it off the locker, input the code of my locker, snap it open and then pop! some red sticky liquid splatters over my face with more photos flying everywhere.

“Oh!” I groan, swiping the wet liquid off my face as I look everywhere, hoping people won't see this.

But who am I kidding? I hear their chuckles, feel their eyes burning into my skull, and see their hands pointing at me.

Breathe. Breathe. Everything accelerates in my head like sparks of electricity. The pictures are on the floor, telling people a part of the story, but not all they need to know. I swipe at my face again, the smell from the fresh paint is intoxicating.

I must hide the pictures… I must hide them.

I shove them into my backpack as more paint draws with it and drips onto the floor. Quick. I have to--

"Cool pictures," someone hisses near my ear. I want to shrink into nothing. I whirl around and like I expect, John stands in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. He stares me down with his bird-like eyes, sucking something out of me. I take a step back.

For such a frail-looking guy, his actions bring goosebumps out of my skin every time he comes closer to me. Seun and Garry are evil, horrible and they are every evil name I can come up with but, they are better. At least they ignore me sometimes, but John never does. He just stares at me never blinking.

This gives me chills. The bad kind. The kind that says: you know what happened but you can't say a word of it to anyone.

My body knows this but my mind. My mind.... forget it, Lola.

I look over his shoulder. Enough students are already gathering to see what is about to go down. How about getting to class? I don't want anyone to be here when John shoves me against the locker or does worse.

"I-I," I say.

John holds out a folded paper to me. I can see the red paint on his hand but I ignore it but as I try to take the note from him, he drops it on the floor, next to my feet and leaves.

For a moment, my eyes move from the rows of lockers and stop on Kim, my former best friend. Her face rises. She waves then mouths sorry and for a second, I turn just to be sure it's me she's talking to. By the time I turn to her again, she slams her locker, hurries down the hallway, her fiery, wild hair bouncing with her movements?

Why is she sorry? Kim, you should be happy with everything happening to me. What a backstabbing liar.

I grab the folded paper then read whatever is on it. ‘Never ever walk away from me, Seun.’ My hands tremble and the only way I can stop the build-up steam, burning me up is to wrap my hands around my body. Seun has no right over me. He may not know this now but soon, he'll realize it.

I gather the remaining pictures on the floor and locker then push it into my backpack. The paint is sprinkled at every corner of my locker, ruining the perfect blackness of it. Sighing, I steal a glance around to see people still staring. Should I clean paint off the floor?

"Lola," the recognizable boyish voice relaxes me a bit. "What... who did that?"

"It's nothing..." I regard him, trying to make sense of what's happening.

Maybe Ayo fell that night of the party, hit his head on the floor, and suddenly thinks I'm a friend. Leave me alone. "Nothing,” I repeat.

“Seun did this right?” he deadpans. “Tell him to back off.”

He doesn't get it. Seun would never let me breathe without putting the question of what happens next in my head. That guy has made it his mission to ruin me until I disappear into nothing which is what I plan to do. So why the sudden care, Ayo? Ayo, just stop.

“Go to class.”

"You too."

"I appreciate you giving me a ride. But for real, you need to stop."

Something flashes across his face. His eyes bore into mine which makes my chest beat faster. A soft breath escapes his mouth as he gives me a sad smile that drives me to the edge. That pity smile again?

"I... look, Lola, you have every reason to be mad at me okay? I get it, but I'm trying to help--" he draws a sharp breath and makes a move to hold me but I back away. "Sorry. I know you hate being touched."

He tries to say something again but the bell blares, causing everyone to run for their classes, except Ayo.

"Yea, " I bob my head and start walking again. ‘Sorry’ can't make things right for me. Where was he when I needed him the most? He was there that night, he cared. My subconscious reminds me but I'm so mad about the locker, about Seun and about every single human. Seun... I want to kill you.

"Sorry... about all these."

As much as I want to tell him to stop saying sorry, I don't. Instead, I navigate towards the girls’ bathroom, clean off the paint, head for class, and hold my breath when I see him at the door. Was he waiting? Jesus Christ. I release a shaky breath as he steps aside for me to go in.

Don't worry, it's your last day here. I push the door and step into the lousy chatter and intimidating stares. Every single one of them must have heard the gist of locker mishap. Stories like this fly quickly.

Here's another fact about high school: kids stare too much. It's crazy with the school drama that fills me with anxiety but their stares... their stares drown me.

I know what every look means even if they don't say it. They show me through their actions. Not once have they ever stepped up to Seun for bullying me. Except for Ayo.

Like last week when Seun and his friends were waiting for me at the bathroom entrance after school, Ayo was there to save me. Once again, he was the hero.

I saunter through the rows of people and only a few spot me then return to their businesses, but the majority of the class points and whispers to the person next to them. It's the locker story. Nothing else.

My stomach twists. Run and never look back.

No, sit and be patient, tonight is almost here.

"Lola," Ayo calls but I ignore and hurry for my seat.

He takes his usual seat behind me as Miss. Jodi, the geography teacher enters. She gives the most hateful glare ever and acts like she's at the point of cussing every student out. And the boring brown clothes she wears make her look even more unapproachable.

"Roles of human activities in climate change," she strolls to the table, dumps a textbook on it then faces the class. "How do humans contribute to these changes?" As she talks, the lines around her mouth deepen.

"Lola," Ayo whispers behind me. "Have I said something wrong?"

Stop, please just stop.

I drum my fingers on the table, biting my bottom lip and fixing my gaze on the table. I want him to stop. I want Miss. Jodi to stop talking too. Everything needs to stop—

"The locker thing... it's very wrong and stupid. I'll be mad too if someone pulled such prank on me, very mad," Ayo goes on, moving closer to me as his breath fanned my ear. "You should report this. It's getting out of hand, you know? Lola... I'm sorry—"

"You're always sorry," I mutter.

"What?" he sounds like I told him to stand in front of a moving truck. Shocker.

"I said you're always sorry," I say a little louder, turning to look at him. "That's pathetic. Soooo pathetic."

Ayo's gaze falters. He observes the classroom and clearly, a few of them are now staring, except Miss. Jodi. "I'm trying to help—"

A bitter laugh rumbles out of me and this time, everyone turns, including Miss. Jodi. I cover my mouth and Miss. Jodi returns to the board, scribbling the causes of climate change.

"I don't need your help."

"I'm not Seun," he replies which makes the class go silent. "I won't stop trying—"

"Stop trying!"

"Dideolu," Miss. Jodi barks. It's hard for her to pronounce my surname but it doesn't stop her from using it instead of my first name. "Quiet down, please." She sounds like a frog and it annoys me even more.

"I don't need your help," I push my chair, causing a noisy shriek. Adrenaline flows through me, pumping hard and fast through my veins. "Stop thinking you're some hero who can waltz in to save the day—"

"Dideolu, you will think over your actions during detention," she slams her palm on the table which makes me flinch. I gawk at her. Ms. Jodi's lips turn into an angry line, her porcelain skin reddens as she points a finger at me. "Now, sit."

The whole class erupts in murmurs.

See, this is another problem with high school; they blame the innocent for an outburst but leave the bullies. When will they punish Seun for bullying me, writing, and putting stuff in and on my locker? I'm all alone in this. No matter my outcry, the school authority will always overlook Seun’s terrible actions.

I browse the classroom. Lily already has her phone out, recording the action going on as their babbling continues.

My throat tightens and as much as I want to cry, my boiling blood suppresses it. For the first time in two months, a strange strength surges through me. "Yep, whatever! Done with this!”

The class gasps. An excited shriek echoes from the back of the class but I don't even bother to see who made that annoying sound.

"Don't push me, Dideolu."

Detention means nothing compared to every shitty thing life has handed to me. Tonight, it'll be over. I want to add that but decide against it. Telling anyone about my plans will disrupt everything. I swing my backpack over my shoulder.

"Enjoy your class. I'm out," I advance towards the door, almost tripping on the floor.

More gasps explode in the classroom.

"Lola—-"

"Dideolu."

Miss Jodi and Ayo both call at the same time but I slam the door on my way out.

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I love this. The situation of a hero trying to save the day makes love stories more interesting.

fattprince:
I love this. The situation of a hero trying to save the day makes love stories more interesting.

I'm glad you like it.

Thank you so much for reading two chapters already!!!

The Autobiography of Lola is finally here and I'm so glad to be back here again and I can't wait to see your reactions to this emotional roller coaster.

I hope you will enjoy Lola’s story and will feel her emotions just like I felt while writing this. If you liked this chapters please, all you have to do is mention your nairaland buddy with the message “i think you'd like this story.”

A short chapter is coming by the end of the day but remember, I update every Monday.

So therefore issa banger.
you called, here i am.

Wow!! You've got a great story here
Sorry, I came late..

8:15 am

MS. DIDEOLU bites down on her lips, clutches the birthday card in her hands as she forces her limbs to relax but it's difficult to be in her room. Lola is not home but it's still difficult.

It's been six years since she got Lola a birthday gift. So long she held her little girl, told her how special she is and she stopped loving her.

But there was a reason for it. Losing a child is like losing a piece of you and no matter the front you put on for the world, inside, you are dying. Lola killed that part of her when Demola died. Now, she must move on. Forgive. Forget.

"Lola is all that matters now," Ayo had told her yesterday after witnessing their argument. "She needs you."

She had scolded Lola for staying out late and tried to make her call her father back home in Nigeria. But Lola was so mad. So mad, Mrs. Dideolu has to take control of the situation and be the adult. She threatened to kick Lola out.

Forgive. Forget.

Mrs. Dideolu breathes in and sighs.

Then trudges into Lola's room and is greeted with total emptiness, and a strong musky odor. Is that the smell of herbs? What did she put in this room? Mrs. Dideolu spins around the room, her eyes here and there. The room is an alluring shade of pink which always looked so feminine with the white bedspread. But Lola changed the sheets to black just two months back and when Mrs. Dideolu told her it was unacceptable, everything turned into another messy argument.

But where did the posters go?

She turns, scanning everywhere. On the right side of the room—next to the bed—are boxes filled with what?

Mrs. Dideolu marches towards the boxes; the boxes all have clothes in them.

Her shoe rack is empty too. What is going on?

Everything is in place but not in a way she would want it to be. She doesn't want her daughter's clothes in boxes, she wants it arranged in the closet.

Lola never tidies her room without been told. But now, every corner in this room is neat. Is Lola taking her word for it? Is she running off?

Mrs. Dideolu frowns, kissing her teeth, she inspects the surroundings then pulls the drawers. Lola's makeup kit is in place, although she hasn't been using it for over a month now. So much has changed about her. So much.

"At least she's neater now," Mrs. Dideolu says.

People can be better, just like her ex-husband, Lola's father who wants to make things right again. The same way she is willing to make things right with Lola.

Lola is not going anywhere because everything will get better. The word sorry has healed so many broken hearts, mended broken homes and settled disputes for ages. Hasn't it? An apology will make it right. If she demands answers from her, it might push her farther away. Trust... trust her.

The bed squeaks as Mrs. Dideolu drops on the bed, and a sad smile curves up the corners of her mouth. She runs her fingers over the coarse, glitter letterings on the birthday card. "I hope you'll like it." Her daughter used to love shiny and colorful things and this card feels right.

Mrs. Dideolu places the card next to her and sends a text to Lola. Happy birthday, Lola. Please, call your father.


8:15am

If Ayo finds how much I want to bash Seun's head in, he would understand why we can't be friends. Thing is, I don't have a baseball bat. I don't have a gun nor can I hurt a fly. I'm a scared chicken and even though we've got tons of knives at home, Seun will live. I can't kill the boy.

Still, Ayo shouldn't try to be my friend. It's pointless.

I clench my fists, burst right, towards my locker but stop when I see principal Ellen pacing and the janitor wiping at my locker. Principal Ellen's face is almost the shade of a tomato and I can't tell if she's mad at the perpetrators or at me for not reporting. My heart pounds faster like the fists of a thousand zombies trying to get to their precious brains.

"They keep giving this school a bad name," she fumes, crossing and uncrossing her arms. "How else can I get them to behave?!"

The scruffy, middle-aged janitor says nothing. He wipes off the last bit on my locker then staggers away with principal Ellen following behind.

Why is she so angry? It's funny, really. If I reported John, she'll find out he pulled the prank courtesy Seun. Then what? A slap on the wrist? She'll scream and let him go. The boy’s lucky, thanks to his daddy, no doubt.

I've got a few seconds to go from here to the exit to avoid running into the school guards.

The janitor’s room would've been a great escape route since it leads directly to the tracks but the man locks it always. Besides, he just left for his office, so it's a bad idea.

I cut across the hall towards the store room where the school keeps costumes for stage plays and other random school stuff. It's the perfect place for smoking and another escape route. Kids love this place for other things too.

I let out the huge breath I've been holding as I open the door, stepping into the musty, dusty room. It's empty, almost dark and quiet now, only voices from teachers and kids chatting from the classrooms wafts into my ears. But I wish I could hear running footsteps. It's stupid to want something like that. I want Ayo coming after me and at the same time, I need him to stay far away from me. It's confusing.

I glimpse over my shoulder. Nothing. I'm alone again and Ayo isn't coming. My shoulders fall, my chin dips and something drops in the pit of my stomach.

Focus. Every other person have their whole lives ahead of them, so why bother about someone chasing me down the hallway?

Eternal rest. It's paramount to me now. When I'm gone, I'll get my rest or maybe not.

Although, mom has this whole idea about sin and death. Sinners get punished and the righteous go to heaven. Whatever; hell or heaven, I'm ready.

I walk through a dark, narrow passage and step out through the exit. The fresh breeze touches me and that's when someone's shoes squeak behind me. I swing back in time to see Ayo taking long strides towards me with his backpack. My heart leaps. He has his backpack slumped on his shoulder. [i/]What? What happened?[/i]

His brows are scrunched and from the way he tightens his jaw, I can tell... wait. Is he mad at me? He has no right. I frown at him even though I want to ask him questions like why are you out? Where are you going?

No, that will be stupid. He's going to give me a piece of his mind then head back to class. But why does he have his bag? What happened back there in class. Why is he out?

Enough questions. I start walking again but he catches up anyway, blocking me at the end of the stairs. I square my shoulders and stare up at him, my fist clenches and my jaw rigidifies.

Quite the opposite of Seun. Ayo doesn't back down easily but will never use force even when he needs to. Not a bully. Talk about some thing that makes the two brothers so different. I'm not afraid you, Ayo.

Move.

He stands there so I muster the dirtiest look. Something flashes beneath the surface of his hardened expression and I have to wonder what that look means. But it's too late, the emotion disappears before I can identify it, and it's like reaching desperately for air.

"I'm not trying to be a hero," his chest rises as he takes a glimpse over his shoulder. "You caused a scene back there. I was concerned. That's the normal things… friends do. I mean I'm not exactly your friend but... but I was worried."

Ugh! Kill me now. Ayo is a freaking parrot.

I move to the side and continue towards the parking lot, but he's not about to give up. He follows me like a lost puppy, between cars until we burst out through a walkway. Ask him why he’s out. I release a loud sigh, gripping my hair hard. I won't ask him any questions. Lola, focus.

"Where are you going?" he follows. "I have no idea where to go now. I don't want to go home. But it's your birthday... and I thought we could hang out... look, I got into trouble so she can kick me out of class and you won't even talk to me? Not fair."

See? This guy has a hero syndrome problem—I mean, I like heroes. I'm obsessed with Superman, Batman and I think the Joker is a badass even though he's a villain—but Ayo has major issues.

It takes two harsh breaths for me to ignore and keep going. So what if he got into trouble because of me? Does he want me to lick the floor he walks on? I didn’t ask for any of these.

I want to drag him right back into the class but one: I'm too tiny compared to his towering height and two: he has this smile now. That smile he gave me when mom and I moved into their house. That one smile before Seun and I happened.

How can he go from a frowning face to this... this happy human in seconds?

I pass through the dedicated parking spot for the principal and teachers and head for the road.

"C'mon. I won't stop, " he says. I keep walking but he's taking longer strides and still catches up. "For my birthday, I drove around town..." he takes a big breath then sighs. "Kidding... that's but visited most places."

Ayo wasn't around for his birthday party, he only came home that night and found me. So, he was having a time of his life while Seun and I prepared for the party. Good for him.

When he catches me staring at him, Ayo laughs. "Just giving you ideas for your birthday."

I shrug. I just want to go home or else, Ayo will ruin this for me. I cover a part my face with my palm to shield me from the watery sun as those bright rays of light warms my skin.

"I've always loved the idea of having fun without partying or drinking, " he tries again.

I grunt. Leave me alone, Ayo. A colorful bird perches on the flower bed, tempting me to take out my camera and take a picture. The bird tilts its dainty head this way and that way, almost in a fluid-like motion.

It's so beautiful.

Keep going. There is no point. I've always had a thing for taking pictures but don't I have a thing for many things? One time, I wrote short stories, another time, I sketched characters of marvel comics, but photography stuck with me like a bug on a dog.

Photography helps people see. I wanted people to see me and understand my pains. Three weeks ago, I posted a picture of my face melting and wrote “fading away” in the caption. It got 4k likes but that's about it. No one got it. To the outside world it's just an edited picture… a beautiful work of art.

To me, it’s a release. I was living my truth.

Every single day, I live in fear, dreading when Seun will send me that text. I just wish he'd die now. I wish he would feel my stabbing pain then die in an horrible way.

I'm evil. I know it.

"Lola, " the footsteps stop. I turn to see Ayo pointing to his black, BMW. "Need a ride? Don't say no."

I say nothing and continue into the road.

"I won't leave you until you talk to me."

"Keep wasting your time then."

Ayo whistles. "Five words to me. That counts." Then laughs.

And that moment, my phone vibrates in my backpack. I take it out to see mom's text on the screen.

“Happy birthday, Lola. Please call your father.”

Yea, right. She had to add that to my birthday message.

I lock my phone, put it in the back pocket of my jeans and focus on the road. My throat closes up as my legs quiver. Why must she add that to the message? Why can't she just be what she is?

My mom.

I won't cry. Not in front of Ayo. Just keep walking. My legs are heavy now. Don't cry.

Tears wet my cheeks this time and I sniff repeatedly to keep my frail legs from giving way. Does my father deserve my call? Mom has no right. No right...

I snuffle. She won't forgive me but she wants the man who hurt her and child back into his life. Why does she think everything can ever be back to normal?

You killed her son. He broke her heart… big difference.

My shoulders tremble. I'm so stupid to compare dad's situation to the unfrogivable thing I did.

"Lola," Ayo says, raising a brow at me. "Are you crying?"

damselposh:
So therefore issa banger.

you called, here i am.

Thank you very much for reading!

becca2017:
Wow!! You've got a great story here

Sorry, I came late..

I’m glad to have you here.

sosa993:
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Thanks for the mention, I am with you but a bit on the offside because work and life right now is deep.. Let's do this all the same

;DFollowing..
Thanks for the update

I'm following, great work here.

Let me reserve seat.