(016 - Nothing Special...)

A special Tenks to lovetori_xo and Rihanna_Adedeji for giving me the Morale to update. You guys are golden. And to everyone that has been checking up on me since the beginning of this week, God bless you for me❤️.

I'm going to be talking about a sport that isn't common in Nigeria, that is American Football. Remember, this is a fantasy school in Lagos. Me sef, I don't know much about the game except for research and movies I have watched. So just follow through. Don't worry, it won't be confusing.

Also, I'll be Introducing fully one major character we haven't gotten to see so well. Who do you think it is?🌚

P. S. I have an important announcement at the end of this chapter. Please don't skip.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

𝐉𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐀

(Jidenna Leo Okojie)

"I can say it anywhere that Basketball is way more strenuous than American Football," Tekena argued for the nth time and I rolled my eyes, trying to decide whether to reply him or not.

"Do you guys have to constantly hit bodies so hard and legit wrestle for a ball?" I asked him and he scoffed like I wasn't saying anything. "Sometimes, we get piled on," I added.

"That's not an excuse because you guys are heavily padded. Basketball players are not. You have helmets, shoulder pads, knee pads, mouth guards. We only have our jerseys. You guys only have risks of getting bruises and sprains while we risk getting major injuries. Check your stats." He retorted vividly, nodding towards where my phone was rested on the bench behind me.

I didn't have to check it to know that he had made a valid point.

"Point taken," I told him and he smirked, clearly estatic that he was right. Tekena was always right.

We were in the boy's locker room amongst other male athletes, the both of us preparing for our last practice before the Paragon tomorrow. I was already dressed in my jersey, lacing my sport boots but TK... he wasn't ready yet, clad in just his school uniform trouser.

"Are you not going to get ready?" I asked him and all he offered was a nonchalant shrug. "It's just a matter of time before your coach comes to send you out of here," I told him.

"I'm trying to get everything set for the after-party tomorrow." He answered and I hummed in response. "This party is our first party in senior year. It has to be lit no matter what!" He hollered and I rolled my eyes at his extra enthusiasm.

Tekena throws the best parties. Even students from other schools show up to turn up. That's how much of a blast it always is. There was no way this one would be anything less.

I was about to comment on how his party is always lit when the door opened and someone walked in, shutting me right up.

Sochima Ansel Johnson.

Everything at the top of my lips disappeared in that instant and my mood turned sour.

"Everyone on the basketball team," He called out. "If you are playing for Paragon or not, you have five minutes to do whatever you want to do and be on the court. I'm counting."

And like that, he was out just as fast as he came in.

It annoyed me how much he controlled without actually being a prefect. It annoyed me even more that he didn't have to shout for anyone to carry out his order.

His order was enough to send the entire room into a frenzy, all the guys on the basketball team rushing to finish up so they would be on the court within the five minutes he had slated.

Well, all guys except Tekena wouldn't stop glaring at the door as if it should just catch fire.

It was quite satisfying that someone nursed similar hatred for Sochima as I did. Even more satisfying that it was my best friend who did.

"I despise that guy." Tekena spat out in disdain.

"You and me both," I muttered, packing the rest of my kits into the gym bag on the bench.

"Can you imagine the fool," Tekena began to rant like I had not even spoken. I knew from experience that if Tekena wanted to rant about Sochima, I should just keep quiet and not say anything.

"I wanted to punish a junior on the team. The junior disrespected me and I wanted to punish him. This fool called Sochima said that I had no right to punish anyone on his team. His Team?! The audacity!" He punctuated with a loud sarcastic laugh that had the guys at the other end of the room looking at him funny.

"There is no way you can hate that idiot more than I do." He added, his voice dangerously low. I didn't reply, just continued packing my gym bag.

With the way Tekena spoke so ill about Sochima, with the way he didn't fail to hide his hatred and disdain for him, you'd think Tekena hated him more than any other person, even more than me. It was expected anyway, given that Tekena was on the verge of winning the position of team captain when Sochima resumed in SS1...

And yanked it all away just by being... better.

But what no one knew was how much I equally despised him. No one knew because I didn't voice it out.

Sochima Ansel Johnson was the reason I would never be good enough for my father. He was the reason I stopped being the best overall academically. He just came in as a new student in SS1 and took it all away. It was pretty much a shocker that he didn't take away the head boy position too, but that didn't stop him from being just as influential as I was, if not more.

I can remember when he had first resumed with us in SS1. At that time, they had not divided us into our different divisions so our classes were divided into six. He happened to be in mine. He was just a regular new student to all of us, there was nothing special about him. Initially, some of the guys were shading him behind his back, mocking how his outfit looked pretty much outdated.

Only for math class to come. The teacher had given us a surprise pop test, but I was so sure of myself. I felt I had in the bag. I was the best after all. But then, I had no idea that my being the best ended immediately after Sochima had stepped into the class. I had no clue.

He finished the test first, surprising every single person, especially me. But I didn't dwell too much on it, concluding that he probably didn't know the answers to the questions. Soon, everyone was done with the test and we all submitted. Our maths teacher didn't mark before he decided to solve the answers to the question. And he called me out to solve the questions.

And I did.

I walked to the board and began to solve the questions, basking in all the attention that came with being the best student in the class.

But I was only halfway done when I heard his voice.

That damn annoying voice!

"Excuse me, sir." I kept writing, solving the maths question the way I knew. The way I had solved it in the test. The right way.

"Yes?" The maths teacher answered, urging whoever it was to speak.

"The formula he's using is incorrect."

My hands stopped scribbling on the board and I spurned around with a speed I had no idea I possessed, my eyes meeting the eyes of the new kid, glaring right at him.

"Excuse me?" I was forced to ask.

"What do you mean by the formula isn't correct." The maths teacher asked the new kid. The latter stood up from his chair and walked towards us in front and I was forced to give him a once over. His looks didn't impress me one bit.

Even his kicks looked outdated.

"Can I have the marker?" He stretched his hand out towards me and I eyed his hand before handing him the marker, scrutinizing him intently with my hands folded across my chest. He collected the marker, then took the duster...

And wiped every single thing I had written on the board.

The fuck?

He began to re-solve the question, using a different formula than I had used. I turned to the class and saw how everyone had their attention on him like he was doing more than solving a stupid maths question. Even the maths teacher had a thoughtful look on his face.

And in a matter of minutes, he was done.

"Wow, I didn't notice." The maths teacher said. "You are actually very correct. This is the right formula." My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at that statement.

WTF?

"What?!" I exclaimed, looking between the new kid and the maths teacher.

But neither of them paid any attention to me... and neither did the class. All of them had their eyes fixated on the new kid like he had just fallen from the sky. Even our Maths teacher was grinning from ear to ear in fascination. A grin that was supposed to be directed to me!

"What's your name, son?" The Maths Teacher asked.

"Sochima Ansel Johnson."

That name registered in my mind from that moment.

A name I knew I'd forever despise.

But not as much as I despised its owner.

That was how he took it all away... in just a matter of minutes.

And he didn't stop there. He just kept striving and the fact that he was even an art student pissed me off beyond measures.

It has never been heard of in the History of Crestview that an art student was the best student in a particular set. He was breaking a record. He was better than me at maths and other core subjects. Crestview made sure Biology was also a compulsory subject for all divisions and he was beating me there too... in my field.

His being an art student was a big icing on the cake.

The funny part was that he has got nothing on me!

Wealth, looks... name it. Absolutely nothing!

He was a effing scholarship student!

And yet... just like that... he was able to take it all.

I was damn sure he knew what he was doing to me. He knew how much it was affecting me and he was still doing it anyway.

And I hated him even more because I knew... I knew that I may never be as good as he is.

Sochima was just too much of a genius. I'd never meet up with his standard.

"Crestview Stallions," Kizito's loud voice boomed across the room, knocking me right out of my thoughts, "You have two minutes to get to the field. I won't say it twice." He ordered and everywhere became even more of a frenzy than it was when Sochima came in.

Crestview Stallions was the general name for all the sport teams in the school, but Kizito used it to refer to the football team more often.

Kizito was speaking to a junior when he looked away for a bit and his eyes met mine. He didn't look away immediately, holding my gaze with his intense ones. The way he looked at me had goosebumps sprouting on my skin and I quickly looked away because I grew extremely uncomfortable under his hard look, quickly finishing off with my gym bag.

"Let me get going," I told Tekena who had started chatting on his phone like he didn't have practice. "I don't want Kizito to..."

"Are you seriously going to let him boss you around?" Tekena asked, looking at me like I have grown two heads. I sighed, shaking my head.

"I am not allowing him to boss me around." I clarified, quickly coming up with an excuse. "I just want to make it in time to the field. Big Guy doesn't tolerate tardiness." I added, looking away from Tekena who kept watching me skeptically.

I didn't pay any heed to him, just wave curtly and walked out of the locker room.

It wasn't totally a lie but it also wasn't the truth in this case. It's not like I allow Kizito to boss me around. I'm just majorly terrified of him, especially because he hasn't spoken to me since the beat down last week. On the field, he wouldn't even look my way or pass me the ball. If at all he looks, it would be a glare.

Putting aside all the years of friendship, I knew for a fact that I was already in Kizito's black book.

I deserved it.

I walked outside the locker room and towards the field, passing by some of my classmates who threw greetings at me. With my mood dampened, I could only throw them a curt wave or a small smile back, so that at least, they won't know that there was something wrong with me. I adjusted my gym bag in my hand and continued walked towards the American Football pitch at the side of the general sports complex.

Turning my head to the side just to glance at my surrounding, I somewhat regretted it when I saw Hilary and Semeeha walking out of the sports complex and back to the senior block. My heart picked up a beat in panic and I quickened my steps so that I would get to the pitch on time and they wouldn't see me. I made sure to keep my eyes forward so that just in case they caught a glimpse of me, I'd look unbothered to either of them.

Especially to Hilary.

I felt so ashamed of what I did to her, what I've been doing to her. Being in this same space with her gave me anxiety attacks.

The fact that she has stopped looking at me all together, practically acting like I didn't exist to her made me feel like I was nothing. Nothing at all.

When I heard about how she had collapsed last week by the pool, I wanted to reach out to her... God knows I wanted to reach out to her. But I couldn't. I was so guilty, I felt so ashamed.

I ruined our four years friendship and one-year relationship.

All because I didn't have the balls to own up to mistake.

But I had no choice. I didn't have any choice...

Did I?

Of course, you had a choice! You had many choices! But you just decided to go with the one that would benefit you the most. You are...

"Yo, Head Boy!" A deep voice tore through my thoughts, causing me to stop walking abruptly as well as stopping the harsh voice in my head from speaking any further.

I looked up and realized I was already in the arena, on the field. Big Guy was there, clearly the one who had called me and he was with the rest of the team, including Kizito. All of them were looking at me like I wasn't well. I, on the other hand, was still trying to remember how I got into the arena without noticing my surroundings.

"Are you okay, boy?" Big Guy asked me when I got to the huddle in the middle of the field. I nodded.

"Yes, Coach," I muttered and he eyed me suspiciously before slowly nodding, though I knew he didn't outrightly believe me.

"You have to be fine. The game is tomorrow and we need all hands on deck." He stated matter-of-factly and I nodded again, avoiding Kizito's gaze that was burning holes to the side of my head.

Big Guy began to fire orders at us, telling everyone their position ok the field, the rest that didn't have position being substitute players. I was a wide receiver while Kizito sometimes substituted between quarterback and wide receiver because of his huge frame. So to say, at the end of it all, I still answered to him.

"We are going to test the communication between the quarterback and the wide receivers." Big Guy started.

"Kizito, you play QB," I saw Kizito nod, taking his position. Then Big Guy pointed to me, "Head Boy, you are taking wide receiver number one. You," he pointed to another guy on the team, Ola Davis, "You'll be taking wide receiver number two. Both of you take positions."

We did.

"Four of you." He pointed to four other guys, "Take Tackle guard and center guard. The rest of you, you are on defense, so guard your end zone. Let's go." He threw the ball to our team's center guard.

In American football, the offense is the term used to describe the team that has possession of the ball and is advancing towards the opponent's end zone to score points. And since my team was in the position of the ball, our team was offense, the opposing team was defense. Hopefully, that's how it would be tomorrow.

I watched as Kizito took his position behind the center guard, crouching down like the rest of the tackle and center guards, waiting for the ball to be passed to him. I gave Ola Davis a signal to send the ball to me if Kizito should pass it to him because I knew that Kizito wouldn't give me the ball first.

"Are you ready?" Big Guy asked and we all nodded.

Then the whistle went off, and the defense team began to scramble to mark every one of us.

"Set..." The center guard called, holding the ball.

"Hike!" Kizito called out and the ball was passed to him.

Immediately he started running back, Ola Davis and I running forward with the defense team hot on our tail. The tackle guards were holding the defense team in place so that more won't come after us. Kizito looked between Ola Davis and me before he finally threw the ball at Ola who ran further into the field, trying to bypass the hurdles of defense players.

I waved my hand for him to pass it to me, but Kizito's loud voice rang through the field.

"Pass it back!" He yelled and Ola threw the ball back to Kizito. I sighed but still kept running into the field. At that point, most of the defense team were now going for Kizito. I was now far enough that I was close to the end zone and no one was marking me.

Which meant I could win it.

I gave Kizito a signal to hand me the ball. He saw me, but he didn't throw the ball at me. Instead, he decided to bypass the heavy defense all on his own. I just exhaled and stayed on my spot, hands resting on my waist. It's not like he didn't know I was clear, he just didn't want to give it to me.

And he paid the price because the defense was too much for him to handle and Big Guy had to blow the whistle, stopping the play.

"What was that all about?" He asked immediately he got to the field, looking between Kizito and me. "Kizito, Jidenna was open. Why didn't you pass to him?" He asked.

"No reason." Was his simple answer. A murmur rang through the team, everyone noticing the tension between Kizito and me. Big Guy looked at Kizito incredulously, even while the latter didn't look fazed at all.

"No reason?" He asked and Kizito didn't answer. Big Guy looked at me. "You too, you'll tell me no reason abi?" He asked me, sarcasm dripping from his tone and I sighed, not saying anything. There was nothing to say.

Big Guy sighed.

"Don't think I have not noticed the tension between the both of you on this field since practice started last Friday. Just because I choose to keep quiet doesn't mean I will tolerate any rubbish from you both," He paused, his gaze hard on the both of us.

"The Paragon is tomorrow. I don't want any slacking on my team. If this is going to affect the game tomorrow, I will not think twice before benching the both of you, no matter how good you both are, especially you Kizito." He jabbed his index towards Kizito for emphasis.

"We are sorry, Coach." He muttered, looking down at the ball in his hand.

"Sorry, Coach," I said.

"If you are really sorry, put your beef aside for the game. After the game, you can pick up from where you left off and kill each other for all I care. But for this game, get your head right and work together as a