Marilyn: A decision between love and hate

chapter 17

Marilyn's pov

Morgan was being a pest this morning, refusing to leave my side and teasing Jolaade mercilessly.
"Do you know Pedro's father is Johnson Barlowe, the sponsor of the competition?" he blurted out, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Jolaade and I exchanged a stunned glance, our eyes wide with disbelief.
"I knew that Barlowe name sounded familiar," Jolaade whispered, her voice full of awe.

I hushed her, still trying to process this bombshell. "Wow," I breathed, my mind reeling with the implications.

Morgan chuckled, never serious even in the most intense moments.
"When I saw him in the office, I was tempted to ask for an autograph," he joked, his grin unrepentant.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head in exasperation. Only Morgan could turn a serious situation into a joke. But despite his antics, my mind was still reeling with the news. Pedro's father was Johnson Barlowe? One of the most paid Nigerian coaches and sponsor of our school's competition? This changed everything.

"The man wasn't even having it," Morgan continued, his voice filled with amusement. "If I was Pedro's dad, I wouldn't even come to face an ordinary principal," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

But his words struck a chord within me. I remembered the sorrow I saw in Pedro's eyes, the tears he tried to hide. Maybe his father had lashed out at him, said something hurtful that had left him reeling. My heart began to ache with empathy, and I regretted not confronting Pedro, not offering him a listening ear.

"Marilyn, what's on your mind?" Jolaade asked, her voice snapping me back to reality.

I hesitated, unsure of how to share my thoughts. "Nothing...I'm just hungry," I lied, trying to brush it off.

But Morgan was not having it. He looked at me playfully, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Oya come and suck breast," he teased, making a silly gesture with his hands.

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. "Ewwww, that's disgusting!" I exclaimed, playfully pushing him away.
"Plus, you're a guy, you're just so stupid," I added, shaking my head in mock exasperation.

We were chatting,till the mathematics teacher entered the class, I couldn't wait for the day to be over, it was Friday and definitely sport day,for the first time in weeks I was going to sit and watch the rest practice, it made me feel sad but I decided to be over it.
  
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I was lounging in the dormitory room, trying to unwind, when Bisola and Joyce burst in, their voices raised in a heated argument.
"If you knew I was going to take the book from Cassie, then why did you take it?" Bisola's anger was palpable, her eyes flashing with irritation.

Joyce's response only seemed to fuel the fire. "Why are you so angry?" she asked, her tone maddeningly calm.

I watched in disbelief as the argument escalated, oh lord, is this week all about fights now.
"What's wrong?" I ventured to ask, trying to intervene.

But Bisola's response was curt and dismissive. "Stay out of it," she snapped, her eyes flashing with anger.

I felt a surge of annoyance at her tone, but before I could respond, Omoshola, who was getting ready to bathe, muffled a laughter. That only made me angrier - why was Bisola speaking to me like that? I wasn't the cause of her problem.

"Bisola, please leave me alone, I don't have your time," Joyce retorted, her voice laced with frustration. "In fact, take the book," she added, hurling a novel at Bisola.

I watched in disbelief because the argument was over a simple book. Bisola's anger reached a boiling point, and she lunged at Joyce, grabbing her neck. I knew I had to intervene before things got out of hand.