Chapter 11 – The Questions

Thursday passed in this strange, deceptive quiet.

The whispers had gotten louder overnight, spreading like harmattan dust through every corridor. By morning assembly, pieces of the story were being said out loud in the junior classes:

“Miss A and those SS3 boys… you know they always stay back.”

“I heard one of them spent the night at her place.”

“Which one? Khalid? He’s always acting like he’s better than everyone.”

By second break the rumour had crossed into the staff room.

Mrs. Okeke the same Vice Principal who’d knocked on the door Tuesday sipped her Milo and watched Adeyemi over the rim of her cup.

Adeyemi sat in her usual corner, marking scripts with steady red strokes, face calm.

Mrs. Okeke walked over casually, pulled out the chair opposite without asking.

“Adeyemi, good morning again.”

“Morning, ma.”

A beat of silence.

“I’ve been hearing talk. About your extra revision sessions with those four boys. Khalid, Chidi, Tobi, Yusuf.”

Adeyemi didn’t look up right away. She finished underlining a sentence, then met the older woman’s eyes.

“They’re my best Literature students. They’re preparing for WAEC mocks. I give them extra time when they ask.”

Mrs. Okeke nodded slowly. “Of course. Dedication is good. But every day after school, door locked, blinds down. And yesterday after the bell you were still there with them for quite a while.”

Adeyemi set her pen down. “We were discussing character motivation in Things Fall Apart. It ran over. I apologise if it disturbed anyone.”

Another nod. But the eyes didn’t soften.

“I also heard from one of the cleaning staff that the classroom smelled… different on Tuesday. Sweaty. Heavy. Like more than just discussion happened.”

Adeyemi’s pulse kicked, but her face stayed even.

“Teenage boys after a long day, ma. They sweat. We were moving desks around to form a better circle for debate.”

Mrs. Okeke leaned forward a little. “I’m not accusing you of anything improper, Adeyemi. Not yet. But rumours like this if they reach the principal, or worse, a parent can damage a teacher’s reputation very quickly. Even if nothing happened.”

She paused.

“And if something did happen… it would be worse.”

Adeyemi held her gaze. “Nothing improper has happened, ma. I’m simply helping my students excel.”

Mrs. Okeke studied her for a long moment, then stood.

“I hope that’s true. But I’ll be keeping an eye. And I’ve asked the security man to note when your classroom lights are still on after 4:30. Just for the record.”

She walked away without another word.

Adeyemi exhaled slowly through her nose, fingers tightening around her pen until the plastic creaked.

The net was closing.

After lunch the four boys found a single message waiting on their phones during free period from her private number:

No session today. No flat. No classroom. Rumour has reached VP Okeke. She’s watching. Stay apart. No contact until Monday. Behave in public or we lose everything.

Khalid read it in the corridor near the science block. His jaw clenched. He deleted the message immediately, but the words stayed burned in.

Chidi read it in a toilet stall, leaning against the wall. His fist hit the partition once hard then he breathed through it. He wanted to find Khalid. Wanted to shove him against a locker and demand why he always got the special treatment. Why Adeyemi kept choosing him even when the rules were supposed to be equal.

Instead he punched a message into their private group chat just the four of them:

This is bullshit. She’s protecting him. Always him. I’m done playing second.

Tobi replied fast:

Bro calm down. If we fight now we really lose her.

Yusuf:

She said Monday. Just wait.

Khalid didn’t reply at all.

But after final bell, when the compound was emptying, Chidi spotted Khalid heading toward the gate alone. Something snapped.

He followed keeping distance at first then closed the gap near the side exit by the football pitch.

“Khalid.”

Khalid turned slowly. “What?”

Chidi stepped closer. Voice low, furious.

“You think you own her? Because she let you stay that one night? Because she let you come inside her again and again while the rest of us beg?”

Khalid’s eyes narrowed. “She chooses who she wants. Not my fault you keep breaking rules and getting punished.”

Chidi laughed bitter, sharp. “Rules? You’re the one who started this whole thing. You brought us in. And now you act like the king because she whispers your name first.”

Khalid stepped forward until they were almost chest to chest. “Maybe she whispers my name because I don’t whine when I don’t get my turn. Maybe she likes someone who can control himself.”

Chidi shoved him hard shoulder slamming into Khalid’s chest.

Khalid shoved back. They grappled for a second grunting, pushing until a distant shout from the groundskeeper made them freeze.

They broke apart, breathing hard, glaring.

“This isn’t over,” Chidi hissed.

Khalid wiped a smear of dirt from his sleeve. “It is if you keep acting like a child. You’ll get us all expelled.”

Chidi turned and walked away fast fists clenched so tight his nails cut into his palms.

Khalid watched him go, then pulled out his phone.

He typed one message to Adeyemi’s private number, not the group:

Chidi just tried to fight me outside the gate. He’s cracking. What do we do?

The reply came thirty seconds later:

Nothing. You do nothing. Tell no one. Monday we fix this. If he shows up alone before then send him away. No exceptions.

Khalid stared at the screen.

Then deleted the thread.

Friday loomed like a storm cloud.

The VP was watching.

The rumours were spreading.

And inside their little circle, the jealousy had finally boiled over into something violent.

Monday’s “extra discussion” would either save them or end them.