Group projects were meant to be stressful. They were supposed to come with clashing schedules, lazy teammates, and awkward silence.
But not this one.
Amara was surprised by how easy it became to work with Kingsley. What started as a reluctant partnership had slowly transformed into late-night study chats, laughter over shared snacks, and even random jokes exchanged in class. Kingsley had a calming way about him, the kind of presence that didn't press too hard but always lingered.
She didn't want to admit it, but being around him made the stress of nursing school feel lighter.
One afternoon, while they were working under a tree beside the nursing complex, Kingsley looked up from his laptop.
"You know you don't have to always act like you're alone, right?"
Amara blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" He shrugged, smiling. "You don't let people in. You joke a little, smile sometimes, but the wall is always there."
She looked away. "I'm just used to handling things on my own."
Kingsley didn't push. He just nodded. "Well, if you ever get tired of doing that… I'm here."
Something in his tone settled into her chest. It didn't feel romantic. Just sincere.
Still, Amara stayed guarded. She knew how this school worked. Friendships turned to gossip in minutes. And she had no intention of being anyone's "side story."
Unfortunately, Geraldine didn't see things that way.
The jealous glances started small.
A flicker in class when Amara and Kingsley exchanged notes. A shift in posture when they laughed too freely. But soon, the cracks in Geraldine's pride turned into full-blown storms.
"I saw you two yesterday under the mango tree," she snapped one evening in the hostel corridor, cornering Kingsley. "Are you seriously going to act like nothing's going on?"
Kingsley sighed, clearly exhausted. "Geraldine, it's not like that. Amara and I are friends. That's all."
"Friends," Geraldine scoffed. "You're giving her too much attention for someone who's just a classmate."
Kingsley stepped forward, lowering his voice. "Look, you're my girlfriend. You. I've told you that a million times. But I won't cut off someone I respect and enjoy working with just because you're feeling insecure."
Geraldine's eyes narrowed. "It's not insecurity. It's boundaries. And she needs to know hers."
The confrontation came sooner than Amara expected.
It was during a class break, while she was in the girls' restroom freshening up. As she dabbed her face with a tissue, the door creaked open—and Geraldine stepped in.
Alone.
Their eyes met in the mirror.
"Enjoying your little time with my boyfriend?" Geraldine said coolly.
Amara straightened slowly, keeping her voice calm. "We're just doing a project."
"You think I'm stupid?" Geraldine snapped. "You think I don't see the way you look at him?"
"I don't look at him any way," Amara replied. "You're overthinking everything."
Geraldine took a threatening step forward. "Let me make this clear—stay away from him. I don't care if you're in the same group or if he smiles at you like a lost puppy. Find another friend."
Amara blinked, forcing her shoulders to stay square. "He's the one who keeps talking to me. I don't control who your boyfriend chooses to respect."
Geraldine's face twisted with fury, but she said nothing more. She simply turned, heels clicking against the tiled floor, and slammed the door behind her.
Amara exhaled shakily.
It didn't stop there.
In class the next day, during a review session, Geraldine raised her hand and asked the lecturer, "Ma, how do we deal with group members who ride on others' effort but try to act like they're leading?"
The class giggled.
Amara knew it was directed at her. Her ears burned, but she kept quiet.
Later in the cafeteria, Geraldine walked past her table with a few other girls and laughed out loud, saying, "Some people think being around Kingsley will upgrade them. Hilarious."
The table erupted in laughter.
Amara swallowed hard and kept eating, pretending not to hear.
When Kingsley found her in the library that evening, she didn't look up from her notes.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"No."
He waited.
"She warned me. In the bathroom. Told me to stay away from you"
Kingsley groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Amara, I'm sorry. She's just... possessive. She gets like this when she feels threatened."
"Why does she feel threatened?"
He paused. "Because she knows you're strong. You don't try to impress anyone. And maybe... maybe I talk about you too much."
Amara's heart stuttered.
She looked at him then, really looked at him. His expression was sincere, worried—but gentle.
"I don't want drama," she said softly.
"And I don't want you to stop being my friend."
They sat in silence after that. A quiet understanding settling between them.
But one thing was clear—things were no longer simple.