Signatory

At this point, I wouldn't lie, things weren't smooth anymore, and quite frankly I had quit over playing the simp so to speak. But matters of the heart remained matters of the heart.

Behind walking past each other like strangers and avoiding each other like plagues, being enemies with no just cause which he created, I would say deep inside, at the very least I was still conscious of his existence. Left for me, I wouldn't be, because I didn't want to, but something happened.

I walked into the lab that day, peaceful and positive. The world felt better sometimes when you didn't talk to anyone on cool mornings, just you and your thoughts and a hopeful mind, a happy heart amidst whatever chaos that might have been going on. I walked through the aisle at the edge and took a chair at the table in the middle. It was our first class of the semester on that day and surprisingly, the class was fun. The lecturer was jovial, exciting and knew how to pass the message and carry everybody along.

In the middle of the lecture, attendance sheets were passed around to take note of everyone present. You would write your name, your registration number and sign. It was a big deal because it attracted marks, but there wasn't even up to half of the class present, not excluding him. Well, Alpha was around so I figured he was covered. They usually had each other's reg numbers and took attendance for themselves, seven of them.

Alpha sat right in front of me, so when the sheet got to him, I could see him copying out all their names and numbers from his phone and dubbing on the sheet, except Dee's. I waited for a while to see if he would write it afterwards but he didn't, and passed the sheet unto the next. I had to ask, but he only shrugged and who was I to let it bother me? I couldn't call the stone head because he didn't take my calls. I'm sure he would be fine, I knew he was in school so he definitely must have had his plan. His other clique, Emmanuel probably got him covered.

Don't blame me for paying too much attention, I didn't want to either but I just couldn't help it. It was surprising to see that when the sheet got to Emmanuel, he also didn't cover for him. At this point, I couldn't hold myself back.

'Aren't you writing for Dee?' I asked, in my most casual tone.

He smiled without answering my question, as though he knew what my heart already wanted to do. I wouldn't blame myself though, and you can't either because like I said earlier, matters of the heart remained matters of the heart. That's the most logical excuse I can provide.

'You want to write for him?' he never waited for me to answer the question when he pushed the paper to me. 'You have his reg number, right?'

Of course, I did. And a small part of me hated that I did, although for the most part, I didn't feel bad. I nodded as I took the paper from him and began writing.

His surname, both of his first names, his native name, all slid out of the pen tip against the paper ever so effortlessly. I hated that even if I was being treated like dirt, like I was wrong for having emotions and being caring and vulnerable, I could never really ignore him. I could only pretend.

With every line I drew trying to carve a signature for him, it felt like I was deepening the inscription of him in my heart. Reminding me of how much of myself was drawn to this person, so sharp and deep that I could feel it hurt. It was bittersweet, a pleasing kind of pain that left a strong mark within me, and for how long it would remain, I did not know.