TËSSÃ ãñd DARÆY: A Love Written with fire

That week had already drained me.

I was going through a lot.

I had to let go of Daræy—something I wasn't even sure I was ready for—and now, I was facing issues with Irene. My head was pounding, my emotions were all over the place, and I knew if I stayed any longer, I'd only end up doing what I always do—ruining things.

So I left.

It was a Friday. The girls were supposed to meet Daræy, and they had planned to go to Justin's house. I knew that if I tagged along, I'd see him there. And honestly? I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

But damn, I missed him.

Still, there was nothing I could do about it. That's just me. Running when things get too much. Distancing myself before I make things worse.

So I went to stay with my aunt and her kids for a while.

And honestly? It was fun. Whenever I was with them, there was always laughter, always something to do, always something to keep my mind off everything else. So why not?

But when I finally came back to the house… something felt off.

No, scratch that—something felt very wrong.

The air in the room was different. Unfamiliar. Almost like I had walked into a completely different house.

At first, I couldn't quite place what it was, but then I noticed something strange.

Whenever Irene was inside the house, the others would go outside.

And the moment Irene decided to step outside and sit with them?

They would all get up and move inside.

Like—what the actual hell was happening?!

And more importantly—why was I the only one being left out?

I thought we were a team. A family.

I sat there, confused and frustrated, trying to piece together what had happened while I was gone.

Had I missed something?

Had something—or someone—completely shifted the balance of the house while I was in yentown?

This—this right here—is why leaving town is never a good idea.

After noticing the weird tension in the house, I decided to go straight to the source.

Irene.

I had to ask.

"Yo, what happened?" I asked, hoping to get some kind of clarity.

She sighed and gave me a look, like she was just as confused as I was. "Honestly, I don't even understand. This has been going on since you left."

I frowned. "Wait, so you noticed?"

"Of course, I did. But I didn't say anything because, well… it's not my house. It's not my place to complain." She shrugged. "But don't worry, I'll be moving very soon."

I blinked. "Wait—your house is ready?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it's actually really nice."

"Oh, wow." I had known she'd been taking Biancus to see the place for a while now, setting things up, buying furniture, arranging stuff. "So you're done with all that?"

She shook her head. "Not really. But I just can't handle what's going on in this house anymore." She sighed again, looking a little bitter. "One of them is the same age as me, yet they treat me so little."

For a moment, I felt her frustration. I mean, yeah, she was way older than all of us. But at the same time, she had done a lot of things wrong. I couldn't blame them for behaving the way they were.

But now, I was the one caught in the middle.

Before, it was easy. I didn't have to talk to Irene much, didn't have to get involved in whatever drama was going on. I could just exist in my own little world, and things were fine.

But now?

Now, they had thrown me straight into the crossfire.

Now, I was forced to talk to Irene.

This week just kept getting worse.

And as if the universe wasn't done messing with me… it just had to send him.

I was walking, lost in my thoughts, thinking about how frustrating things had been, when I bumped into someone.

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled, bending down to pick up the book that had fallen.

And then, I looked up.

And oh my God.

There he was.

Standing there, as breathtakingly handsome as he always was.

Daræy.

Ugh.

Why does the universe hate me so much?!

I forced a small smile, keeping things simple. "Good afternoon. Your practical is over?"

He just nodded. No words. Nothing.

Not that I waited to hear his part—I didn't want to prolong the conversation.

So I just walked away.

Yeah… there was still a little conflict between us.

But anyway… this? This was how things escalated.

It was a tough morning. I was the only one who had early classes that day. While the physiology students enjoyed a free morning, I had to rush off to my anatomy lecture. And anatomy wasn't something you played around with—one mistake, and there was no turning back.

So, in my usual morning haste, I grabbed the available bucket of water in the bathroom, took a quick bath, and dashed off to class. I didn't know whose water it was—I didn't even think about it. If there was water there, someone had probably left it for general use. Besides, whenever I fetched water, I always saved some in the kitchen bucket for others to use. It was just an unspoken rule.

I was already seated in class, trying to focus, when my phone buzzed.

It was Irene.

At first, I ignored it. Then it rang again. And again.

I picked up and whispered, "Irene, I'm in class. Call me later."

She didn't listen. The phone kept ringing.

At that point, I was getting irritated. Like, dude, hold up! This wasn't just any lecture; it was anatomy. A single missed detail could cost me. But then, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was a WhatsApp message.

I clicked on it.

And immediately, my blood boiled.

> Hey Tess, I have no idea why you used my water this morning. Better rush back home and fetch that water for me. Don't let me get angry with you.

I reread the message, my jaw tightening.

She was threatening me.

Threatening me… over water?

She went on, saying she didn't understand why she would go through the stress of fetching water, only for me to "beat it." As if I had intentionally stolen something from her. As if I had deliberately sought out her bucket, poured it out, and laughed while doing it.

First of all, I didn't even know it was her water. Secondly, I genuinely thought she had already poured the rest into the kitchen bucket—because that's what I always did.

Water was scarce. We all knew it. Our bodies were reacting to it—dry skin, constant thirst, and that endless struggle of calculating every drop. And yet, here she was, making me feel like I had committed a crime.

I was pissed.

Beyond pissed.

What did she take me for? A servant? Some little kid she could just boss around?

I clenched my jaw, staring at my notes, but the words blurred. I couldn't concentrate anymore.

And then came the worst part.

That day, I was broke.

I had only 700 naira on me. That was supposed to last me—enough to at least get something to eat and keep my energy up. But now? Now I had to use 200 to rush back home, fetch her water, and then another 200 to return to class.

And just like that, my entire day was ruined.

I sat there, fists clenched under my desk, the insult settling deep in my

chest.

I didn't want to do it.

But I knew I would.

That day, I sat beside Confidence, a close friend of mine who never sugarcoated things. She glanced at me, noticing my tense posture, and asked what was wrong. I sighed and showed her Irene's message.

She read it, scoffed, and turned to me with a look of disbelief.

"Wait, hold up. You're telling me you have to go back home just to fetch water for her?" She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Why don't you just send her the money from here? Because, girl, that's a whole lot of unnecessary transport fare. To me, that girl is not a true friend."

I felt my chest tighten.

I wanted to defend Irene. I tried to. But the words wouldn't come out.

What was I supposed to say? That Confidence was wrong? That Irene was actually justified in demanding I abandon class just to replace some water I didn't even know was hers?

I swallowed hard. Because deep down, I knew the truth.

Confidence was right.

Even if I didn't want to admit it, even if I wanted to convince myself otherwise, reality was reality.

Still, I went back home.

I fetched Irene's water.

I carried it to her.

She took her bath like nothing had happened and then left for class.

By that point, my whole mood had soured. I couldn't even pretend to be okay. I told Irene I wouldn't be attending the next class. No practicals, nothing. I was drained, both physically and emotionally.

So when she left, it was just me and Biancus left in the room. She wasn't feeling too great that day, so she also stayed behind.

And then, just as I was settling into my frustration, something happened.

Something that really shocked me.

Ruth—yes, Ruth—actually went to class.

What?!

I nearly laughed out loud in disbelief.

Ruth? The same Ruth who practically had "School don tire me" tattooed across her forehead? The same Ruth who treated class like an optional event?

If she was going to class, then maybe pigs really could fly.

But just as I was still processing that shock, Biancus turned to me and

said something that would shake me even more.