My Toxin

Chapter 1: Flashback

Flashback 2016

The rain was relentless that day, soaking through my clothes and leaving them clinging to my body like a second skin. My hair, damp and lifeless, hung limply around my face. I cursed under my breath at the dreary British summer as I fumbled for my house keys. That's when I saw her—Marjorie Amara Okeke, my next-door neighbour.

Marjorie's uniform stuck to her just like mine, but unlike me, she managed to retain her effortless grace. Her rebellious curls defied the rain, framing her face like a halo. Even soaked and frustrated, she was stunning.

Her family had moved in a decade ago when we were both six. Despite our close proximity, Marjorie and I had never been more than acquaintances. She was always busy—piano lessons, ballet, tutors. Our interactions were limited, and my childhood crush had long since faded. Or so I thought.

As I stood there at sixteen, staring at her, I couldn't deny the lingering admiration I felt. She was locked out of her house, tapping angrily on her phone. It was unusual for her to be home so early on a weekday.

"Hey, Marj... Marjorie," I stuttered, my voice betraying my nerves. She glanced up, her stoic expression unchanged, and nodded once in acknowledgment.

I opened the door to my house, gesturing for her to come in. We had been neighbours for years, and her family often joined us for Sunday lunches after mass. But being alone with her was a different story.

Marjorie silently followed me inside, removing her wet shoes as I locked the door behind her. I could feel my palms growing clammy—this was uncharted territory.

She settled at the kitchen table, still engrossed in her phone. I hurried to my room, grabbing a shirt and jogging bottoms for her to change into. As I returned, I handed her the clothes, and she murmured a soft "thank you."

Her voice was like silk, weaving its way through the air. A stupid grin spread across my face as I whispered, "You're welcome." Thankfully, she headed to the bathroom before she could see my foolish expression and my blushing cheeks.

I busied myself in the kitchen, making Marjorie and me an after-school snack, preparing the only meal I knew how to make—Korean ramyeon with a side of store-bought kimchi.

As the water boiled, I picked up my phone to check on the group chat. Tyreece, Tyrel, and I had a very good relationship; we were practically brothers. Me being the oldest, they copied everything I did. I messaged them, knowing it was pointless. They were at football practice. I was meant to be there too, but I had to excuse myself to prepare for my debate competition the next day. Come to think of it, Marjorie was also on the debate team. Could that be why she was home early?

After making the noodles, I placed two bowls on the table, serving the noodles with kimchi as a side dish. Two glasses and a cold bottle of cranberry juice, Marjorie's favourite, completed the setup. It might seem strange that I knew her favourite, but our families were close, and Mum always made sure to stock up on it for their Sunday visits.

Marjorie took her time coming downstairs. I scrolled through messages in the Year Eleven group chat, praying the noodles wouldn't get soggy by the time she descended. The Year Eleven group chat was filled with drama, the current topic being Elanor's sixteenth birthday party. Elanor was my first girlfriend, and although we hadn't spoken in months, I agreed to attend her party. Despite the passion we shared, there was always a disconnect. Dating Elanor helped me to understand that I preferred girls with intellect.

After eating in silence, Marjorie started cleaning up, and I began to help when I got a call from my Mum. "Hi bubs, you getting ready for tomorrow, yeah? I'll be home late from work, and your Dad will be too, but I should be back before him, alright? I've got your dinner in the oven. Love you, bye." I nodded my head during the whole conversation, only muttering "love you too" at the end. I realised I forgot to tell her about Marjorie. I'm sure it's alright, though.

I looked over to Marjorie, realising that she'd done the dishes and was now pulling out her laptop and a bunch of different books, pens, and notebooks from her bag. "I hope you don't mind, I've got a lot to get done." I shook my head. I had some work to do too, though not as much as Marjorie, clearly.

Whereas my only focus was the upcoming debate competition tomorrow, Marjorie had her maths and physics notebook open. Her pen and notebook met vigorously as she focused intently on her work. Beside her was a stack of other revision books ranging from English Lit to Biology. I looked back at my laptop, focusing on my research for tomorrow. The work wasn't tasking at all, so I found myself looking at Marjorie once again. Her face was scrunched up in concentration, her teeth biting her fingernails as she thought of an answer. Once she was convinced of an answer, she quickly wrote it down and repeated the process.

Soon, the stack of books by Marjorie went from seven to two. I was done with my work three books ago and was aimlessly scrolling through my phone. She got up to stretch, her shirt and blazer rising up enough to expose her stomach. I looked away, blushing. What's wrong with me? She looked back at me once she was done stretching, her voice monotone as usual. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" I nodded, still shaken up from earlier. "Let me see your notes." She went through my notes with a frown on her face, biting her nails in frustration. My heartbeat drummed in my ears. After reading through my notes thoroughly, her melodic voice cut through the tension with a sharp, "no."

I looked at her, taken aback. "No?" I asked, my voice wavering.

She shook her head, her curls bouncing with the movement. "Your closing argument is weak," she stated bluntly, tapping her finger on a particular paragraph. "You need to drive the point home more effectively. Here, let me show you."

Marjorie pulled up a chair beside me, our shoulders almost touching. I could smell the faint scent of her lavender shampoo mixed with the rain. She began to outline a more compelling argument, her fingers flying over my laptop keyboard as she typed out her thoughts. I watched in awe, trying to keep up with her rapid pace.

Her focus was intense, and I realised that this was the side of Marjorie I had never seen before. She was a natural leader, someone who could dissect a problem and find a solution with ease. It was no wonder she was the debate team president.

"See?" she said, leaning back and giving me a small, rare smile. "You need to appeal to the emotions of the judges, make them see how social media has personally affected you or someone you know. Facts are important, but personal stories make your argument relatable and memorable."

I nodded, absorbing her advice. "Thanks, Marjorie. I really appreciate this."

She shrugged, a modest gesture that made her even more endearing. "It's what I do. Besides, I want our team to win."

As we continued to refine my speech, I found myself relaxing. The initial awkwardness of having Marjorie in my house faded away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie. We worked well together, our ideas bouncing off each other in perfect harmony.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, the sun had set. Marjorie glanced at the clock and sighed. "I should probably head home. Thanks for letting me stay and for the noodles."

"Anytime," I replied, standing up and stretching. "You sure you don't want me to walk you back?"

She shook her head, packing up her things. "I'll be fine. It's just next door."

As she headed to the door, she paused and turned back to me. "Good luck tomorrow. You're going to do great."

"Thanks, Marjorie," I said, feeling a warm glow of gratitude. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied, and with that, she was gone.