Prince got bored, like he always did.
It wasn't personal. That's just how he was. One week it was Yvette, the next it was some girl named Mimi who he said "was thick" and sleeping on her arse would feel like sleeping on a pillow.
So one evening after class, he turned to me, scrolling through his chats like he was cleaning house.
"You want her contact or nah?" he asked, like he was offering me a spare charger.
I kinda hesitated. "Umm....Yeah."
He sent me her number, just like that. No ceremony. No warning. Just boom, Yvette.
So I texted her. For the first time, after I got home. Heart racing. Thumbs clumsy. But I did it.
And the very first thing I told her?
"That guy you've been calling Prince? That's not Prince. That's me."
There was a pause. A long one. Three dots popped up. Disappeared. Came back.
Then finally:
"Wait… what?!"
I explained it all, how Prince had her number, how he sent her my picture, how the mix-up happened. She called me dramatic, said I was unserious, and laughed for like ten minutes.
But from that day, we started talking for real.
No middleman. No fake names. Just me and Yvette.
And for a while… that was enough.
Now, let me tell you about Okata.
Okata was one of those guys who just… existed in his own world. We went to the same school, different biology class. Somehow,don't ask me how,his mom became friends with my mom too. So we sorta linked up for vacation classes.
Anyway, Okata was a gamer at heart. Not the rich kind, though. He had a Nokia that could barely handle Snake. So whenever he wanted to get serious—PES, real football stuff, he'd beg to borrow my phone or Dennis's.
But the real story? The one that still makes me wheeze?
Okata had a thing for Jessica; Yvette's friend. Like full-blown crush mode. You'd see him freeze whenever she walked past, acting like he suddenly forgot what photosynthesis was.
So this one day in class, we're seated, teacher droning on about DNA or something nobody was listening to and Jessica walks in late.
She passes by our row, and Okata turns to track her like he's FIFA radar. Bro was staring so hard, you'd think he was studying for a practical exam on her backside.
Then it happened.
As he twisted in his chair, trying to catch one last glimpse, his entire bag tipped over. Like, everything fell out. Pens, notes, biscuits, even a crumpled biology diagram he swore was "important."
Then we erupted.
"Okata!"
"Is that what you were looking at?!"
"Guy you spilled your bag for bum-bum??"
He started shoving things back in his bag like nothing happened.
Too late.
That moment lived forever. We teased him every day after classes.
But hey, at least now Jessica knew he existed.
Kind of.