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This book contains mature themes, explicit language, and scenes of a sexual nature intended for adult audiences only. It is rated R and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.
Trigger Warning:
This book also includes depictions o...
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Onika Maraj Manhattan High School
December 8
As soon as I walk through the doors of the school, I'm hit with the sound of students chattering and lockers slamming. It's like any other day, except today's different.
Today, it's my birthday.
I make my way down the hall, scanning the faces of the students. Some are already gathered in small groups, half awake, while others are wide-eyed, probably running on pure sugar from whatever they grabbed on the way in.
I'm trying to keep a low profile, but as soon as a couple of them spot me, I know it's game over.
"Ms. Onika!" one of the girls yells, her eyes lighting up as she rushes over. "Happy birthday!"
Before I can respond, more voices chime in.
"Happy birthday, Ms. Onika!"
"Is it really your birthday?"
I laugh, shaking my head. "Yes, it is."
But of course, they do. A few more students gather around me, some shy, others bold enough to give me quick hugs. I don't stop them-how could I?
Their energy is contagious, and I can't help but smile.
"You look so pretty today!" one of the girls says, holding onto my arm like I'm her best friend.
"Thank you, baby," I say, rubbing her back lightly before letting go.
A few of the boys linger on the sidelines, offering me casual nods, like they're too cool to join the group but still want to wish me well.
I wink at them, and they grin back, trying to act like they're not affected.
"Alright, alright, let me get to my office and y'all need to get to class!"
But before I can escape, one of the girls pulls me into another hug. "We love you, Ms. Onika. Have the best day."
"I love y'all too,"
I finally made it to my office, a little breathless from all the birthday excitement. Setting my bags down, I sank into my chair, letting out a small sigh of relief.
My office is my sanctuary-a quiet space where I can regroup before diving into the day's meetings and counseling sessions.
I reach for my phone, expecting the usual flood of messages. Sure enough, my notifications are lit up like a Christmas tree. Family, friends, colleagues-everyone reaching out to wish me a happy birthday.
But not her.
I scroll through, half hoping, half dreading that maybe I missed it. But no, nothing. She hasn't texted, called, or even sent a quick 'happy birthday.'
