The Sweetest Fruit ( Tomboy 🏳️‍🌈Love Story )

29 . Worried girlfriend

MJ

"Fuuuuck!" I screamed, slamming my fists against the leather steering wheel. Inside my car, the sweltering heat and my rage against my father consumed me. The stuffy interior felt like a cage, trapping me with my boiling thoughts. I leaned back, my hands gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Who does he think he is? I hate him. I hate all the men in my life. They all abandoned me. They promised mum, that they will always be there but at the first chance they got they all left.

I rested my head on the wheel, the cool leather a weak comfort against the inferno inside me. Through the windshield, the cracked tarmac of the roadside shimmered under the harsh midday sun. Dry grass swayed lazily in the faint breeze, mocking my inner turmoil.

Will I ever stop feeling like this?

The sharp trill of a ringtone pierced through my spiraling thoughts. I turned toward the backseat, where a black duffel bag lay sprawled. Sonia’s phone. Its screen glowed insistently. Pushing aside the guilt of brushing her off earlier, I snatched the phone, the leather seats creaking beneath me.

The call disconnected before I could answer, leaving me staring at her wallpaper. It was a photo of us—her face pressed against mine, grinning ear to ear. My heart clenched, the anger dissolving like sugar in water. But before I could lose myself in that sweet memory, a string of messages lit up the cracked screen.

Sonia, it’s me, Lynn. Answer the phone.
Please pick up.
The girl you were with at our school… you can’t trust her.
I know you hate me right now, but please don’t trust her.
Sonny, let me explain. She paid me to do everything, to get you away from Kian.

My grip tightened around the cheap device, the plastic creaking under the pressure until—crack. I stared at the web of fractures now spidering across the screen. Perfect. A broken phone to match my shattered patience.

I tossed it onto the passenger seat, its glossy surface reflecting the light like broken glass. I couldn’t ignore Lynn anymore. She needed to understand: Sonia was mine. I’d make sure of it.

The KCA campus buzzed with life as I pulled up, parking a few blocks away to avoid attention. The sun blazed overhead, baking the asphalt beneath my feet as I walked. My all-black outfit—a fitted jacket, combat boots, and ripped jeans—absorbed the heat like a magnet, and sweat trickled down my back.

By the time I reached the gate, the humidity clung to my skin like a second layer. A burly guard stood at his post, his crisp blue uniform barely wrinkled despite the weather.

“Who are you here to see?” he asked, his sharp eyes narrowing.

“Lynn. She’s a sophomore,” I replied smoothly, wiping my brow.

He didn’t budge, his skepticism clear. “And who are you to her?”

“I’m her cousin,” I lied, not even flinching.

He didn’t look convinced, but my persistence—or perhaps his boredom—won him over. “Fine. Go in.”

Inside, the campus buzzed with students milling about, their voices blending into a symphony of chatter. The pavements were lined with neatly trimmed hedges, their vibrant green a stark contrast to the drab beige of the classroom buildings.

I approached a guy leaning against a lamppost, his lanky frame clad in a green St. John’s uniform.

“Hey, do you know Lynn? She’s in St. John’s too,” I asked curtly.

“Lynn Mwende? Yeah, she’s pretty popular,” he said, looking me up and down.

“Where can I find her?”

He pointed toward a building. “Third floor, sociology class.”

I didn’t bother with a thank you, striding off toward the beige structure.

The classroom door was propped open, and a soft hum of voices spilled into the corridor. I leaned against the cool metal frame, scanning the room. Lynn sat in the middle, her slim figure hunched over a notebook. Her tiny skirt barely reached her thighs, and her dark braids swayed as she scribbled something.

“Lynn,” I called, my voice slicing through the air like a whip.

Her head snapped up, her wide eyes locking onto mine. She froze, her lips parting slightly. The color drained from her face as her friends turned to gawk at me.

I gestured with two fingers, motioning her to come out.

Reluctantly, she stood, smoothing her skirt with trembling hands. “Uhm… what… are…” she stammered as she approached me.

Gripping her arm tightly, I pulled her into the hallway.

“You’re hurting me,” she whined, struggling against my hold.

Ignoring her protests, I dragged her into the nearest bathroom. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over the grimy tiled walls.

“What do you want?” she asked, her back pressed against the cold surface. Her voice quivered as tears welled in her eyes, smudging her makeup into dark streaks.

“I told you to stay away from Sonia,” I growled, my voice reverberating in the cramped space.

She shook her head, her small frame trembling. “I-I couldn’t. I felt guilty for what I did…”

Her words only fueled the fire raging inside me. My fists clenched, the veins in my arms bulging. But I held back. For Sonia.

“You coaxed me,” she cried out suddenly.

I slammed my fist against the wall beside her head, the impact echoing through the bathroom. " I didn't force you to do anything you didn't want to." She flinched, tears streaming down her face as she choked back sobs.

“Listen carefully,” I hissed, leaning in until our noses nearly touched. “Stay. Away. From. Sonia. This isn’t a request. It’s an order.”

She nodded frantically, her voice breaking as she stammered, “Y-Yes. I heard you.”

“Good.” I stepped back, smoothing my jacket as if nothing had happened. “Get yourself together. You look like shit.”

Her shoulders slumped, her mascara-streaked face lowering as I walked out.

By the time I returned to school, I was beyond exhausted. The court buzzed with activity, my teammates huddled together in the gym.

“You’re late,” Kora snapped, her piercing eyes narrowing at me.

“So?” I shot back, smirking.

“You’re dragging the team down.”

“Oh, please. I’m the only reason this team stays together,” I retorted, brushing past her.

Before she could fire back, Sonia’s voice rang out, soft and sweet like a balm to my frayed nerves.

“MJ.”

I turned, my entire demeanor softening as she approached. She was the calm to my storm, her delicate frame radiating warmth.

“Come here,” I called, opening my arms.

She stepped into my embrace, her head fitting perfectly beneath my chin.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered, nuzzling into her neck.

"Get a room," Diana screened, all the eyes turning towards us.