The collision.

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Mid-semester was a chaotic time on campus. The air pulsed with a frenetic energy, a whirlpool of deadlines, assignments and social events that left students either completely immersed or totally overwhelmed. Though today was different. It was the day of the annual rally; a tradition where students from every major came together to represent themselves, each department donning a different color in a show of unity, competition and in April's opinion, madness.
The campus grounds were alive with activity. Music thumped from speakers set up near the quad, where a sea of students in bright shirts marched and cheered, waving banners and signs. Each major had their own chant, their own colors, and their own pride to display, from the law students in crisp navy blue to the engineering students in vibrant orange. Somewhere among the crowd was a mascot, dressed as Donald Duck, waddling awkwardly through the throng, much to the delight of the onlookers.
But April wasn't down there. She was where she always was; sitting in the dilapidated library, away from the noise, away from the chaos. The library itself was a quiet space, with peeling wallpaper, flickering lights and shelves packed with books whose spines were cracked from age. She'd found her usual spot in the corner by the large window, her chair creaking slightly as she shifted, engrossed in a comic book.
The distant sounds of the rally; drums, chants, electrifying music, occasionally pierced the otherwise quiet space, like the hum of some faraway festival. April peered over the top of her comic and out the window, watching the spectacle from above. Her eyes settled on the poor soul in the Donald Duck costume, who was struggling to keep his oversized mascot head in place as he danced awkwardly in the heat.
"He must be hot in that." she thought, smiling to herself.
She watched the scene for a while longer, trying to focus on her comic but finding herself distracted by the infectious energy below. April had never been one to get swept up in these kinds of events. She preferred the quiet, the calm and the sanctuary the library offered. Yet, as the music thumped louder and the laughter of her fellow students drifted up through the cracked windows, she felt a small twinge of curiosity, maybe even regret.
She sighed and closed her comic book, setting it aside on the worn wooden table. Rising from her chair, April wandered over to the window, pushing the dusty curtain aside for a better view. Below her, the rally was in full swing. Students danced, laughed and posed for photos, their faces glowing with excitement. The air seemed charged with a kind of reckless joy and as much as she tried to ignore it, April couldn't help but feel like she was missing out.
For a brief moment, she imagined herself down there, swept up in the madness; chanting with the English majors in their burgundy shirts, laughing at some inside joke that only made sense in the heat of the moment. She shook her head, laughing softly at herself. This was exactly what she had tried to avoid all these years getting caught up in what she always called their "madness."
April sighed, feeling the tug of temptation as she watched the rally from her perch in the library. The excitement below seemed to seep through the walls, urging her to be part of it, to experience the rush of the moment but no, that wasn't her. Shaking her head, she decided to shake off the thought of ever wanting to join in on their "madness."
Not today, she told herself as she turned away from the window, packing her comic into her bag along with her scattered notes and pens. She was good at resisting these impulses; this wasn't her scene and it never would be. Still, she couldn't help feeling a little lighter as she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the stairs, convincing herself that she'd just go for a quick walk and clear her head.
She moved quickly, almost as if racing to outrun her second thoughts, her footsteps echoing down the narrow stairwell. The sound of the rally grew louder as she descended, the drums vibrating in her chest. She was so focused on pushing aside her doubts that she barely noticed someone coming up the stairs.
In her rush, she rounded the corner sharply, colliding head-on with someone coming the other way. April stumbled and her bag slipped from her shoulder, sending her books and papers tumbling to the ground. At the same moment, she heard another thud; whoever she'd bumped into had dropped his stuff too.
"I'm sorry!" they both said, their voices overlapping in perfect unison.
April blinked, crouching down quickly to gather her things. As she reached for a notebook, her hand brushed against the other person's. She looked up, ready to apologize again and froze.
"June?" she asked, surprised.
"April?" he replied, equally shocked.
They stared at each other for a second before chuckling, the tension of the collision melting into something softer.
"What are you doing here?" April asked, still grinning as she handed him a  pen.
June laughed, standing up as he tucked his things back into his backpack.
"I could ask you the same thing! Thought I'd take a break from the madness outside. Guess we had the same idea."
April shook her head, her smile widening. "I was trying to avoid it, actually. But I was starting to regret it for a minute."
"Yeah?" June raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
"So, are you finally giving in to the madness?"
April laughed, brushing a loose braid behind her ear. "No way. I was just... curious."
The laughter between them faded, leaving a slight awkwardness in the air. June and April stood side by side, looking out at the "madness" in the distance. The rally's energy was palpable even from the stairwell, students cheering, banners flying, drums echoing through the campus. They both watched in silence, as if unsure whether to speak or simply enjoy the moment.
After what felt like an eternity, June broke the quiet. "Where were you headed?"
April glanced at him, her smile faint.
"Home. Or somewhere quiet to clear my head."
"I know a spot," June said, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
Before April could respond, her phone rang, interrupting the suggestion. She let out a soft sigh, clearly not thrilled about the call, and fished her phone from her bag.
"Sorry, give me a sec."
She pressed the phone to her ear.
"Hello? Yes, yes... right away, sir." Her voice dropped slightly, more formal now. With a quick nod, she hung up, the weight of responsibility suddenly returning to her face.
"Sorry about that," she said, tucking the phone away. "It's work."
June waved it off, trying to be understanding. "No, no, it's fine."
April smiled, but there was a sense of urgency now. She seemed distracted, like she had somewhere to be, somewhere important.
"Uhhh, sounds like you have something to do," June said, noticing the change.
"So, I'll let you go, but uhhh..." He hesitated for a moment, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Let me give you my contact. My phone's dead."
Without waiting for a response, he reached into his bag, pulling out a random book. Flipping to the back, he tore a small piece of paper from the corner. Then, he fished out a highlighter from his pocket, placing the cap in his mouth as he scribbled down his number in bright neon ink.
"00 966 3..." he mumbled through the cap, concentrating on writing the digits.
"Done!"He handed her the torn piece of paper with a grin.
"Call me, or text me," he added, realizing how tense an actual call might feel.
"Whichever."
April took the paper, slipping it into her bag.
"Sure," she said, nodding, her tone light but non-committal.
"Bye," she added quickly, giving him a small wave before hurrying off through the bustling crowd. In no time, she had merged into the throng of students and disappeared into a nearby shuttle.
June stood there, watching her fade into the crowd, feeling the air between them cool again. With a sigh, he turned back and slowly headed up the stairs, the energy of the rally still echoing in the distance behind him.

****

April sat by the window of the shuttle, her fingers tapping lightly against her thigh as she thought about the work that awaited her. The weight of her responsibilities pressed down on her and she couldn't help but let out a small, frustrated hiss. Tch She leaned back in her seat, taking one earphone and placing it in her ear. Scrolling through Spotify, she found her favorite song, Ganiru's Kwechiri, and hit play. The soothing melody filled her mind, drowning out the noise of the city outside. She closed her eyes and hummed along, letting the music ease the tension in her shoulders.
The shuttle slowed to a stop and she snapped out of her brief escape. April quickly paid the driver and stepped out, her eyes catching the familiar sign just ahead: "The Fashion Vault." The building itself was sleek and modern, with glossy black windows that reflected the surrounding plaza. The jewelry shop's name was plastered in elegant gold letters above the entrance, a promise of luxury within. Inside, the atmosphere was bright and polished, glass cases displaying glittering items that caught the light just right.
April walked in, greeted by the familiar coolness of the air-conditioned room. She barely had time to settle before her manager approached, his expression tight with disapproval.
"Late again?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a note of irritation.
April forced a smile, already dreading the conversation.
"There was an event in school, and—"
"Don't want to hear it," he cut in sharply, waving her off before she could finish.
Her manager, a tall, plump man with dark skin and a stern face, towered over her. He was dressed in a sharp tuxedo, as if every day was an important occasion and his presence always seemed to command attention. Without another word, he motioned toward the corner of the room, where several stacks of jewelry items were laid out on a table. Sticky notes were attached to each piece, describing the customers' orders.
"Here are the items you need to pack," he said, his tone leaving no room for discussion.
"Now get to work."
April watched as he turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the shop. With a sigh, she collapsed into the chair behind the table, staring at the piles of earrings, necklaces, and bracelets waiting to be wrapped and shipped. Grabbing the first set of earrings, she carefully packed them into their wrappers, then into the polymailers, her hands moving automatically through the motions. The hours dragged on, her afternoon slipping away as she repeated the same task over and over again.
By the time her shift was over, the sun had dipped low in the sky. April clocked out, her body heavy with exhaustion as she headed back to her small apartment. The moment she stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the room greeted her, though the space itself was humble. The cracked walls were covered in stickers of her favorite artists—Ganiru, Obongjayar, and Asa—giving the place a bit of color and personality. Her bed, surprisingly neat and organized, seemed to call to her, promising rest.
Without a second thought, she kicked off her shoes and crashed onto the bed, the day's weight melting away as she lay there. Finally, she could relax.

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