Sunday crept in lazily, the kind of day where the sun seemed too heavy to rise early. Amara woke with a stretch, blinking against the weak morning light that filtered through the curtains. Her body still carried the restless tension of the past week, but she had made up her mind—today, she was going to forget about glowing marks, bonds, and mysterious transfer students.
She reached for her phone, scrolling absentmindedly until a notification made her blink twice. Monday was declared a public holiday. She stared for a moment, almost laughing at the relief that spread through her chest. No rushing to lectures, no pretending not to search the halls for someone who had vanished since Tuesday. Just a quiet day.
Or… maybe not so quiet.
"Zainab and Tolu," Amara muttered, already typing a message into their group chat. She invited them over, and they didn't even hesitate. Both agreed, almost too quickly, claiming they were bored stiff in their own hostels.
By the afternoon, the room buzzed with chatter. Ngozi had been lounging on her bed when Amara's friends arrived, and she sat up with a raised brow at the unexpected company.
"This is Ngozi, my roommate," Amara introduced, smiling.
"Ah, so you're the famous Ngozi," Tolu said dramatically, dropping her bag by the wall.
Ngozi arched an eyebrow. "Famous?"
"Of course," Zainab chimed in, grinning. "Amara always says you're the serious one. The 'responsible roommate.'"
Ngozi laughed, shaking her head. "Serious, eh? That depends on the day."
It didn't take long for introductions to melt into easy conversation. Soon, the room was alive with laughter, stories from lectures, and exaggerated impressions of their strictest lecturers.
But the teasing, as always, found its way back to Amara.
"So," Zainab leaned forward, eyes gleaming, "since Monday is a holiday, let's settle it. Amara, are you sure you're not hiding something about that Kael boy?"
Amara nearly choked on the water she was sipping. "Again? You people won't rest?"
Tolu smirked, her voice playful but sharp. "You came late that day looking like you'd been dreaming of him. Don't lie."
Heat crept up Amara's neck. She flailed her hands quickly. "I wasn't dreaming about anybody!"
Ngozi, who had been quietly peeling sachets of seasoning cubes by her hot plate, gave a side glance, lips twitching. She didn't join the attack directly, but her silence carried its own weight—as if she was storing the moment for later.
Amara caught her look and shook her head furiously. "You too, Ngozi? Don't even start."
Ngozi only hummed in reply, turning back to her pot. The sizzling aroma of tomatoes, onions, and peppers soon filled the room, and the teasing was drowned out by their rumbling stomachs.
By the time she was done, the smoky jollof rice sat steaming in a wide bowl at the center of the room, its red-orange glow promising flavor in every bite.
"My God," Zainab moaned dramatically after the first spoonful, "Ngozi, marry me. Forget this Amara girl. Let's exchange roommates."
Tolu laughed through a mouthful. "Or maybe I'll just start disturbing you every day for food. Amara, you're blessed and you don't even know it."
Amara rolled her eyes but smiled, grateful for the lightness that filled the room. It felt good—normal. For once, nobody was glowing, vanishing, or pulling her into strange bonds. Just food, laughter, and the easy warmth of friendship.
When their stomachs were full, the energy didn't fade. Instead, Zainab clapped her hands together. "Let's do a sleepover. We'll play games, maybe watch movies. It's a holiday—no one's chasing us tomorrow."
Tolu nodded eagerly. "Yes! Cards, truth or dare, horror movies. I'm not going back to my hostel tonight."
Amara laughed, pretending to protest. "You people will finish me. This room isn't that big, oh."
But deep down, she didn't mind. She wanted the company—the distraction.
Ngozi leaned back against the wall, arms folded, watching them with quiet amusement. "As long as none of you scatter my things, I don't care. Just know that once you all start screaming at horror movies, I'm not saving anybody."
The room erupted in laughter again, the sound echoing down the corridor.
As night deepened, they sprawled across the beds and floor with pillows and snacks, joking and arguing over movie choices. The world outside faded; the weight of secrets lifted, if only for a while.
But even in the middle of the laughter, Amara caught Ngozi's watchful gaze flicking to her more than once—sharp, curious, and filled with unspoken questions.
Amara forced herself to look away, burying her face in a pillow with a laugh. For now, she wouldn't think about it. She wouldn't think about Kael. She wouldn't think about the bond.
For now, she would just live in this moment.