The Sweetest Fruit ( Tomboy 🏳️‍🌈Love Story )

40.Ex boyfriend

Sonia

The last two weeks had been brutal. Early mornings at practice, long hours in class, and late-night study sessions had left me running on fumes. My body ached, and my eyelids felt like they were weighted down, but the thought of losing my scholarship or getting kicked off the basketball team kept me going.

The only bright spot in all of this was MJ. She had been making a real effort to be nicer to the team, and as much as I hated to admit it, her trying was attractive. I didn’t say it to her face, though—she’d get cocky.

Today, though, was different. Exams were starting, and my nerves were on edge. Every step toward the examination hall felt heavier, like I was dragging my fears behind me. What if I failed? What if I missed something while studying? My stomach churned.

I threw on a denim skirt and a baggy sweatshirt, grabbed my bag, and headed out. The sun was already high, casting long shadows over the tall campus buildings. Students milled around the exam hall, their anxiety palpable in the air. I spotted Aliza, her face pale as she clutched her books like a lifeline.

"Hey," I said, forcing a smile.

"Hey," she replied, her voice trembling.

"You okay?"

"Not really. You?"

I laughed nervously. "We’re going to be fine. Probably."

She gave a weak nod, squeezing my hand like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her acrylic nails dug into my skin, but I didn’t complain. She needed the comfort, and honestly, so did I.

The lecturer emerged, clipboard in hand. Her sharp voice cut through the murmurs. "Sonia Wambui Ngugi?"

My stomach dropped. I let go of Aliza’s hand and stepped forward.

"That’s me," I said, my voice barely audible.

The lecturer glanced up from her papers, her expression unreadable. "You can’t sit for the exam. Your fees haven’t been paid."

"What?" My voice came out louder than I intended. A few heads turned. "There must be a mistake."

She shook her head. "I called your mother. She said you could go home early since you won’t be participating."

Home? She told them I could go home? Anger and disbelief tangled in my chest.

"Can I… Can I call her?" I asked, gripping my phone like a lifeline.

"Go ahead," the lecturer said with a shrug, already turning her attention to the next student.

My fingers fumbled as I dialed. The phone rang twice before she answered.

"Sonia, what is it now?" my mother asked, her tone curt.

"Why didn’t you pay for my exams?" I demanded, my voice shaking.

"I used the money for my husband’s hospital bills," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Your husband?" I repeated, my anger bubbling over. "What about me? What about my future?"

"It’s just an exam," she snapped. "This is someone’s life we’re talking about!"

The line went dead before I could respond. I will fail this whole semester.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes as I turned away from the hall. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. My chest felt heavy, my breaths shallow.

                           —

The streets of Nairobi buzzed with life, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me. I caught a bus heading to Kiambu, needing to confront my mother. She couldn’t keep doing this—putting everyone else before me like I didn’t matter.

The sun blazed overhead as I stepped off the bus, its heat forcing me to buy a Coke. As I approached the junction near our neighborhood, a black BMW pulled up, the tires screeching against the pavement. I stepped back instinctively, glaring at the car.

The window rolled down, and my breath hitched.

"Kian?" His name escaped my lips before I could stop it.

He smiled, that same infuriatingly charming smile I hadn’t seen in over a year. His dreadlocks were new, but the arrogance in his posture was the same.

"Sonia," he said, his voice soft.

I turned on my heel and walked away. No, ran.

"Sonia, wait!" He was out of the car in seconds, grabbing my arm.

"Don’t touch me," I snapped, yanking my arm free.

"I just want to talk," he pleaded.

"Go talk to Lynn," I shot back, my voice rising. A few passersby paused, their curiosity piqued.

"Calm down," he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Or what?" I challenged, pulling the Coke can from my bag and dumping the rest of it over his head.

Gasps erupted around us, but I didn’t care. "Stay away from me, Kian," I hissed, pointing a finger at him before storming off.

Home was exactly as I remembered—noisy, chaotic, and suffocating. I picked up some fries and chapo from a street vendor before letting myself into the house. The moment the door closed behind me, the adrenaline drained from my body, leaving me exhausted.

My phone buzzed.

"What do you mean you’re home?" MJ’s message read, accompanied by an angry emoji.

"My mother didn’t pay for my exams," I replied.

Her response came almost instantly. "I could’ve paid for you."

I smiled despite myself. Only MJ would say something like that.

"That’s not your job," I texted back.

"You're my girlfriend. It’s my job to take care of you," she replied, and my chest tightened at the words.

Two hours later, she texted again: "I’m coming to get you. Send me the address."

Panic set in. MJ had never been to my house. What if she saw it and judged me? What if this changed how she felt about me?

I spent the next two hours cleaning every inch of the house, scrubbing like my life depended on it. By the time her car pulled up, I was a bundle of nerves.

When she stepped out, her presence lit up the dusty street. She looked so out of place here, yet she didn’t seem to care.

"You look beautiful," I blurted, earning a bashful smile from her.

"Thanks," she said softly.

When we got inside, she sat on the armrest of the couch, looking around. "This is where you live?"

Her tone wasn’t judgmental, but I still felt exposed.

"Yeah," I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

"Why are you acting weird?" she asked, pulling me toward her.

"I’m… insecure," I admitted, the words barely a whisper.

Her arms wrapped around my waist, grounding me.

"You don’t need to be," she said, her voice steady. "I love you, Sonia."

"I love you more," I whispered, just as the door creaked open behind us.

I froze.

It was my mother.