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TEEJAY (EP 6)


We started sharing looks during class.

I was taking strict pains to ensure no one suspected a thing. At this point, the least we needed was anyone trying to cause trouble.

I observed her when she looked away.

Her face was radiant; there was a smile there I hadn’t noticed, in all the time I had been crushing on her.

These days I was noticing the efforts she was making to look nicer. Her short curls were brushed into waves, and I thought I noticed a hint of gloss on those lips.

She turned back to give a wink, Mr Darko was shouting – the man was ballistic, someone had forgotten to write their index number on a test sheet again.


When the bell went for breakfast she made a show of arranging her books. From the corner of my eye I could see as she packed and unpacked her books thrice.

When Harry tapped my back, I cocked my head in her direction. 
He understood immediately, then pointed to his shoelaces.

“This will give you a better excuse.”

I went ahead to unclasp, and re-clasp the buckles on my sandals. Harry was a genius.


After forever, we were finally alone. I checked the door again to make sure.


We were sitting opposite each other, my gaze trained on her while she tried to avoid looking directly at me.

I lifted her chin, forcing her to look me in the eye.

She looked so vulnerable, and I was trying hard not to touch her any further.

She cleared her throat, and that brought me back to the present.

I started asking questions – careful to stay within her comfort zone – I didn’t want to scare her away before anything went down.

By the time the bell went for the end of breakfast, I was more in love with her than I believed possible, and I had parted with my favourite monogrammed handkerchief.

I was whipped. 

Note:
Since Teejay is a fictional character, I would like to dedicate this chapter to the amazing Harry Acquah Nunoo, aka Jay 12, alias the inspiration for this series.

This is for your birthday, dude. Enjoy your big shirts and your funny dress sense.
Happy belated birthday, Harry.

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