EPISODE THIRTY FOUR 34:BESTIES

**Michael's POV**

"Please leave my sister, she didn't do anything," the little boy pleaded, his voice trembling as the gun was pointed at him.

"Don't be afraid, Michael, they are all just bad people," she said, her voice steadier than the gun's menacing presence.

"Feisty, just like her father, too bad you won't get to grow up and be just like him," he sneered, twisting her face towards him with the gun.

"My daddy is going to screw all of you up," she retorted, defiance lighting her eyes.

The sharp crack of a gunshot pierced the air, silencing everything but the boy's agonized cries.

"It hurts, please," the boy whimpered, his voice choked by the chains binding him to the chair.

"We're doing this so your dad knows we're coming for him," the man said coldly, his words dripping with menace.

"Mitchell!" The boy's scream echoed through the room, a desperate plea that was swallowed by the darkness.

"Your sister's gone. Now shut the f** up and let us do our job," the man barked.

"No, no, please!" The boy's voice broke into a pained sob.

"Keep quiet, little f***ker," the man hissed, the tattoo gun buzzing ominously as it pressed against the boy's skin.

"No, no, no!" The boy's scream was a raw, heart-wrenching cry.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

"Are you alright?" a voice broke through the haze, pulling me back to the present.

I jolted upright, realizing I was submerged in the pool, my only attire being boxers.

"Are you OK?" Chloe's concerned voice cut through the confusion.

"What are you doing in the pool with me?" I asked, my frustration mingling with the cold water. "I still don't know why you didn't opt for boarding school," I added, trying to mask my irritation.

"Well, because not everyone wants to be a loner or enjoys being a loner like you. Why do I feel like I'm not welcome here?" she said, her voice laced with hurt.

"You are welcome. Why do you feel that way?" I asked, my tone softening despite my annoyance.

"Because I keep feeling like you want me out of your life, or maybe you're scared that Hadizah or whatever she calls herself won't be with you if she finds out about me," she said, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

I climbed out of the pool, wrapping a towel around my torso, my patience wearing thin. Chloe followed, not ready to let me go just yet.

"Can you please just leave me alone, Chloe? I need peace, and you're not helping," I said, frustration evident in my voice.

She stepped in front of me, her face a mixture of hurt and determination.

"Why can't you see me for who I am? See me for who I have always been, Michael, please," she implored, her voice breaking slightly.

I wish I could just tell her that, "you are the best girl anyone could ever wish for but I can't be with you because I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm really not in the mood for this, or for anything right now. I'll just leave you to cool your mind off," I said, grabbing a robe and turning away.

"When are you going to understand that the girl you like is a f***ing whore?" she shouted, her words slicing through the air like a knife.

My body tensed, rage boiling over. How dare she call Hadizah a whore? She's the most perfect girl on earth. I will uncover the truth about those pictures, and if anyone dares to mess with her, they mess with me too.

"What did you just say?" I demanded, my voice barely contained.

"Yeah, you need to get it through your head that Hadizah is a full-time bimbo. You saw her with her boyfriend in those pictures, and yet you still want to play ignorant," she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

"That is none of your business. Don't you ever call her that again," I said, my voice seething with anger.

"You know you can never be with her. She is a Muslim, and you are nowhere near being one," she said, her voice a cruel reminder of our differences.

"And you should also know that you will never be anything to me-just a girl who keeps throwing herself at me. We are never going to be more than just friends, Chloe. Understand that," I said, regret gnawing at me immediately after the words left my mouth.

"I should have known. All you ever thought of me was as your childhood best friend who keeps throwing herself at you," she said, her voice breaking.

"I'm sorry, Chloe, please," I said, reaching out for her arm.

"Touch me one more time, Michael, and I promise you I'll slap you so hard you'll see me in your nightmares," she warned, her eyes blazing with fury.

I watched helplessly as she stormed off. I felt like a complete screw-up, unable to control my own tongue. What a great guy I am.

I trudged up to my room, ready to clean up and attempt a good night's rest.

**Hadizah's POV**

The relentless rain of terror pelted down on me, each drop a reminder of my turmoil. I felt like I had been swallowed by darkness my entire life. I refused to go to school today; the humiliation was too much to bear.

Even at basketball practice, it was no better. The whispers and sneers about how they didn't want a "whore" on their team stung like a thousand bee stings.

The pictures haunted me even in my dreams, taunting me with their lies. They made it look like I was with Julian in secluded room, my head exposed under a scarf that barely shielded me from the world's gaze. Nobody can control human thoughts, they have thought the worst about me.

My mum crept into my room, the door creaking as she entered. I had almost managed to feign sleep, but she caught me mid-act.

"Are you fine now? You've missed two days of school, and your school has called," she said, worry etched in her voice. I had always confided in my mum, but now, I couldn't bring myself to reveal what had happened.

"It's just cramps, Mum. I'll be better. I'll go to school tomorrow," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"You know you can tell me anything, Adunni," she said, gently caressing my cheek.

"Mum, I'm fine," I said, fighting back tears.

Suddenly, my phone chimed with a message.

"Julian," it read, appearing like a beacon of hope amid my despair. Such a great timing Julian, I thought.

"Who's that?" my mum asked.

"It's no one," I said, quickly turning off my phone.

"I'll bring you the clove herb. It will relieve your stomach," she said.

"I don't want it. I'll be fine," I insisted.

"Don't test me. I can't have you missing school because of cramps, OK?" she said, her tone firm yet caring.

I didn't want to face her anger. She could be formidable when she wanted to be.

"OK, Mum. I'll take it," I said.

At least I could use that as an excuse to avoid school for now.

My mum left my room, and I heaved a sigh of relief. The door closed softly behind her, as if it were shutting out the heaviness in my heart.

I picked up my phone to view the message.

"Let's talk," Julian texted, and his words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

"No, I'm not. And you are not the boss of me. What the hell happened at that party?" I texted back, frustration and hurt mingling in every letter.

"I don't know, Hadizah. Please trust me," Julian replied. Despite the uncertainty, I wanted to trust him. Julian had always been a pillar of support, and I struggled with pushing him away.

"Julian, I'm down with cramps and I'm in no mood to talk to anybody. I'm sorry, but you're also included on my list. It's best we find a better time to talk," I texted, my fingers trembling with regret.

"It's fine. We'll talk later when you're ready," he texted back. His words were kind, yet they deepened the ache in my heart. Julian had always been there for me, and now I felt like I was pushing him further away.

I hovered over the "bye" button, my heart aching as I prepared to send it. I mouthed "I'm sorry," as if he could hear me through the screen. My heart beat longingly for him, a silent plea for understanding.

The next morning, I braced myself for the inevitable storm at school. I rolled out of bed, each movement weighed down by the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

"Adunni, will you get ready quickly so I can drop you off at school?" my mum called out.

If she took me to school, we'd arrive early, which meant facing the bullying head-on. The school bus, on the other hand, would get me there later and give me a sliver of escape.

"I'm going with the school bus," I said.

"Se ko re e (Are you sure you are alright)? Shouldn't getting to school early be your top priority as a student? I don't understand what's wrong with you children these days," she said, her tone a mix of concern and humor.

"I'm sorry, Mum," I replied, feeling the sting of her disappointment.

"Sorry for yourself! I don't know what the youth of today will turn out to be. Back when I was in school, I won the award for the most punctual student. Why can't you be more like your mother, who is now a bona-fide lawyer?" she said, her voice laced with a hint of nostalgia and reproach.

"Yes, Mum, that's the most clichéd line from every parent. But I promise I'll make you proud by becoming the best architect the world has ever seen," I said, trying to inject a note of optimism into the conversation.

"I trust you, my dear. Now let's get you to school," she said, her voice softening with maternal warmth.

Those words hit like a train, my mum trusts me and what am I doing with my life, getting in trouble.

Nobody could ever argue with me that my mum was the best mother in the world. She was always there for me, even when I hit rock bottom. Her support and love were like a lighthouse guiding me through the storm, and I vowed to cherish her always.

**In the car**

As I sat in the backseat of the car, the engine's purr was a dull roar against my mental turmoil. My mum drove us to school, her gaze occasionally flicking to me through the rearview mirror, her concern palpable.

"Adunni, why are you so distant today?" she asked, her voice a soft murmur over the hum of the engine.

"Just not feeling great, Mum," I replied, staring out the window as the world passed by, a blur of colors and shapes.

"We're almost there. I know you don't want to go, but remember, you're strong. You've faced challenges before, and you've always come out stronger," she said, her voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

"Thanks, Mum," I said, managing a weak smile. Her words, though comforting, did little to dispel the storm brewing inside me.

**At School**

As I walked through the school's hallway, a shiver ran through me, as if the shadows were whispering, "Run, Hadizah, run while you still can."

"I'm not a coward," I told myself. "If I want to prove that nothing happened between us, I need to face this head-on."

As I entered the school, it felt like Maya had been waiting for me.

"Didn't think you'd come back to school after those hot photos of you were posted," she sneered.

"Hadizah, don't let her get to you," Julian's voice cut through the noise, his concern evident.

"Yo Julian, how good was she? Rate her on a scale of one to ten, maybe even I could try her someday and I know that she wouldn't mind" Dylan shouted, and a crowd of students gathered, their eyes filled with malicious curiosity.

I've become so useless that I became a cheapskate bimbo that even Dylan was talking rubbish about me, I was mortified and I don't know what to do.

Suddenly, a bottle of milk was poured over my head. The humiliation was palpable, a heavy cloak draped over me. I had always been a good girl; what had I done to deserve this?

"Dylan, you f*** tard, don't you ever think of f***ing with her, OK? I'll beat you up so badly, you'll never want to see another girl again," Julian said, his voice a thunderclap of anger.

"All your holy attitude has been proven wrong. You're just a hotshot bimbo," Maya taunted, her words a dagger to my already wounded heart.

The tears flowed uncontrollably. I was furious with myself for attending that party. If only I had listened. Michael was right but I was too stupid to believe him, even when I thought that the worst had passed.

"Hadizah, are you OK? Let's get out of here," Julian urged, his voice a lifeline.

I followed him, too exhausted to respond.

"Look everyone they want to go and finish what they started," Lucy said.

Tears stung and let it out with a light whimper

"Listen up, everybody. Hadizah has shown us that all Muslim girls are just a bunch of lowlife pretenders who think that they are the only good people on earth. And I knew that they were all f***ers from the start," Maya shouted.

This was more than I could bear. A slur against my religion. I'm a Muslimah; I can't fight on the battlefield, but I must stand up for my faith.

"Maya, I will not tolerate any more of your bullcrap," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.

"Oh please, so now your vocals work?" she mocked.

"My voice might be soft, but I know I'm better than you will ever be," I said, determination hardening my resolve.

She lunged at me to slap me, but I caught her hand, the force of her motion nearly toppling her.

To all of you watching, I'm a Muslimah, and my religion is Islam. My religion is perfect, but I'm not. If I make a mistake, blame me and not my religion," I said, pausing to wipe the tears from my face.

"Hadizah let's leave from this place they are not worth it," Julian said.

"Julian please just leave me alone, I don't want to be with anyone and especially not you," I told him.

I turned my back and walked away, my heart heavy but my spirit unbroken. He didn't deserve to be pulled into this mess, but I couldn't bear more rumors about us.

*****

I retreated to the school's lounge, seeking solace in the emptiness. I collapsed onto a couch and let out a guttural cry, my frustration and pain spilling out in loud, ragged breaths.

I cried my eyes out, I was so tired of everything, I was fed up of this stupid rich kids school. I'm tired of giving more than I receive.

"Hadi?" I heard a familiar voice.

"Ava," I managed through my hiccups.

Ava rushed over and embraced me. Her presence was a balm to my wounded soul. Even my best friend was crying for me.

"Hadi, I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I was the worst friend anyone could ever wish for," I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder.

Ava broke the hug, her face marked with concern and regret. "No, Hadi. I wasn't the best either, so it's not your fault. All I know is that from now on, I'll never leave you. I'll be with you through everything that life throws at us."

"Thank you and I'm so sorry for leaving you like that," I said, tears mingling with my gratitude.

"As long as you're my best friend, you're never going through anything alone," she said.

I sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion. "Ava, I'm so tired of this school. I want to go back to Nigeria, where life was simpler and happier."

Ava looked at me with a reassuring smile. "Hadi, listen to me. Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear."

"I can't believe I ever pushed someone like you away," I said, a pang of regret hitting me.

"It was the devil, and now we've overcome it," she said, her words a gentle reminder of our shared struggles.

"I know. Thank you so much, Ava," I said.

"We don't thank each other, remember," she said, her smile growing.

"I know, but you deserve it. You deserve all the thanks in the world," I said.

"You want to know who else deserves an apology and a thank you?," Ava asked softly.

"Who," I managed to ask.

"Julian," she said.

I turned my face away, not ready to discuss him. The pain was still too fresh.

"Hadi, stop avoiding your problems. Face him and talk to him. You love this guy, don't you?" Ava's words were gentle but insistent.

Love. It's a word heavy with meaning, not something to be taken lightly. You trust someone you love with your heart and soul.

"Ava, I like him, but I don't know about love," I admitted.

"It'll come naturally to you. If he's the one, you'll never regret it," she said, her belief evident.

"Ava, you hate love, and yet here you are giving me relationship advice. I must be dreaming," I said with a faint smile.

"Courtesy of my dad, Mr. Johnson," she said with a grin.

"I'm really starting to like him," I said, a tinge of hope in my voice.

"Don't please," she said, a hint of teasing in her tone.

"Let's head to class," I said, trying to push forward.

"If anyone tries to f*** with you, they'll get a taste of me," Ava said, her protective fierceness shining through.

"Ava, language, please," I said, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Sorry," she said, her expression softening.

"Now that's better," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder.

With Ava by my side, I felt a renewed sense of strength. I wasn't strong enough, but I know that I'll try me best. I was ready to give anyone who came for me a taste of their own medicine.

WRITER'S NOTE :

Whoo, I had to write this chapter in like three hours, it was tough but all of you deserve it. Ugh I don't like Chloe, but I like the way Michael stood up for Hadizah and The besties her back and better than ever, who do you think posted those photos, u have my guesses. I chipped in the typical African woman clichéd line. Thank me later.

QOTD :

Fake friends are no different than shadows, they stick around during your brightest moments, but disappear during your darkest hours.

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