The final semester had begun, and I could already taste the freedom of graduation. The thought of walking across that stage was the only thing that kept me going through the grueling days of lectures and assignments. My heart fluttered every time I thought of Lyon, but I knew I had to give him space. He needed time to move on from his feelings for me. I had hurt him, and while I hated that, it was something I had to do. My focus was now on one thing only—my studies.
I buried myself in textbooks, assignments, and anything that could get me closer to a perfect GPA. I was determined to finish strong. The thought of getting my degree and leaving the confines of this university was my fuel. No distractions, no emotions. I didn't have the energy to waste on anything or anyone else.
That is, until the teacher called out our project teams.
"Team one: Kimbia Kahlamai, Michael Nkenang, and Jeanine Mbolé."
I froze. My body stiffened at the mention of Michael's name. Of all the people in this school, of course, I would get paired with him. I could feel the tension building in the pit of my stomach. As I turned to face him, our eyes met. His gaze was cold, dark, and distant—he didn't want to be in this group any more than I did. I swallowed the lump in my throat, took a deep breath, and whispered to myself, "I can do this."
Jeanine, ever the peacemaker, quickly noticed the lack of communication between Michael and me. Neither of us made an effort to reach out, and the tension between us was palpable. She called me up and fixed a meeting for us to discuss the project.
"Will Michael be there?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
"Of course," Jeanine replied, unaware of how much I dreaded the thought.
"Okay," I said, hanging up and sinking into thought. I overthought every detail of the meeting, agonizing over how it would go. In the end, I decided not to show up at all. The thought of being in a small room with Michael, forced to interact with him, was unbearable.
An hour after the meeting was scheduled, I called Jeanine to apologize. She didn't seem happy, but she understood. Apparently, Michael hadn't shown up either. I could hear the frustration in Jeanine's voice.
"You two are avoiding each other," she said, her tone sharp. "This needs to stop."
She scheduled another meeting, this time telling each of us that the other couldn't make it. My heart skipped a beat when I walked into the hall and saw Michael sitting there. I almost turned back, but I whispered to myself, "I can do this." I sat down, doing my best to ignore the tension that clung to the air between us.
The project we were assigned was a debate-worthy topic: The use of biodegradable materials in biomedical implants. A topic with so much potential for conflict, and we certainly took full advantage of it.
As the discussion escalated, Michael and I couldn't help but attack each other, each word more cutting than the last.
"At least I don't run away from my emotions like some people," Michael spat, his voice dripping with bitterness.
I shot back immediately, my words sharp as a knife. "At least I don't take advantage of hormones to lure people in."
He smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Some people reflect their name—'Kimbia,' a running person. Funny how your name suits you, doesn't it?"
I raised an eyebrow, my temper flaring. "I can see you did some research on me."
Before we could go any further, Jeanine slammed her fist on the desk, startling both of us. "Enough!" she yelled, her voice breaking with emotion. "I need this project to boost my GPA, and I'm not going to let you two ruin it for me. So, for my sake, get it together."
Her words hit harder than either of our insults. Michael and I locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between us. We both realized that we had to do this—for Jeanine, if nothing else.
Over the next few days, we worked in relative peace. We even shared a few smiles when things went right. But the moment Jeanine asked about our past, about what had really happened between Michael and me, the awkwardness returned. We both avoided the question, practically running out of the room to escape it.
The next day, as I was packing my books to leave class, Michael approached me.
"I just want to apologize for whatever might have happened between us before," he said, his voice low and sincere.
I smiled, but it was bittersweet. I hadn't forgiven him, but that didn't mean I was unaffected by his apology.
After that, things between us were smoother. We still didn't talk much, but there was a mutual understanding that kept the tension at bay. The semester flew by.
Then, one evening, as we were finalizing our project, Jeanine left early. She had a fever, and we were left alone in the hall. It was getting late, but we kept discussing the project, trying to focus on what needed to be done. Then Michael spoke up.
"I miss this," he said, his voice quiet. "I miss us."
I froze for a moment, caught off guard by his words. But then I gently replied, "Me too."
Michael looked at me with something resembling vulnerability in his eyes. "So do you still run away?"
I blinked, confused. "Excuse me?"
He just laughed, his smile mocking but familiar. "I was joking, Kimbia."
"I can't believe you researched my name," I said, trying to lighten the mood.
He smirked. "I missed you. I found myself searching. Your name's unique, by the way. Why didn't you ever talk about it?"
"We never spoke about names," I said, laughing.
"Let's wrap this up," I quickly added, eager to finish the project.
We finished everything and took separate taxis home. The following days were filled with exams, project presentations, and the hectic end-of-semester rush. I saw Michael around, but we didn't talk much. I could feel his eyes on me whenever we were in the same space, but I brushed it off, pretending not to notice.
Finally, the exams were over, and the week of waiting for results was filled with anxiety. On Saturday, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, I was surprised to see Michael standing there.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, puzzled.
"I was passing by and remembered you told me you live here. I've never visited," he said, awkwardly stepping inside.
An awkward silence hung between us. Then my phone beeped.
"OMG, the results are out!" I screamed, my heart pounding.
Michael looked at me, laughing. "Why are you acting so dramatic? It's not like you ever fail."
"I'm scared of not doing as well as I have to," I admitted, my voice shaky. "Check for me, please."
He quietly took my phone and checked the PDF sent to the class group.
"Of course, you're the best with a GPA of 3.98. Congratulations, Miss K"
I screamed, practically jumping up and down. "What about you?" I asked, barely able to contain my excitement.
"I did it," he said, showing me his GPA on his phone.
I screamed again and hugged him, exclaiming, "We did it! We're graduated, Michael! We did it!"
Before I knew it, Michael's lips seized mine. I didn't stop him. Maybe it was the excitement, or maybe it was something else, but I kissed him back. We lost ourselves in the moment until we were both breathless.
"Kim, be mine, please," he whispered.
That was when I snapped back to reality. I pulled away, my eyes wide in disbelief. "Get out."
Michael's face darkened, hurt flashing across it. "Why, Kim? You clearly want me as much as I want you."
I shouted, "Just get out!"
He looked at me one last time, sadness in his eyes, and left.
I didn't even enjoy my success the way I wanted to. I kept blaming myself for that kiss. Michael was the only guy I had ever kissed, and as much as I hated to admit it, I craved his familiar touch. But I couldn't let myself go there.
The next week, I didn't hear from him. I spent my days packing and selling some of my belongings. I left the city and went back to my mom.
I attended the graduation ceremony months later, but it felt hollow. And I could see Michael trying to reach me but I made sure I didn't stay in the same physical space with him alone so we couldn't talk. I was done with that chapter.
I had to run. Again!