Love Across Boarders

Chapter thirteen

I don't know why I couldn't let it go.
Every time I told myself to stay away from Busayo, to ignore whatever this was between us, I found myself drawn right back in. Maybe it was because she was the first person who didn't try to impress me. She didn't care about my last name, my money, or any of the things that usually defined who I was around here. No, she just saw me as some rich kid who didn't belong in her world.
And maybe that's why I couldn't stop thinking about her.
That moment in the library replayed in my head as I walked back to my dorm. The way she looked at me-like she was daring me to push back, like she wanted to tear me apart just as much as I wanted to figure her out. She was infuriating, and yet, I couldn't get her out of my head.
I kicked open my door and tossed my backpack on the floor, frustrated with myself. I didn't even know why I tried talking to her again. Every conversation we had just ended in a fight, and I was getting tired of it. But even when she snapped at me, I couldn't help but admire how strong she was-how she never let anyone, least of all me, get the better of her.
I collapsed onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I knew I should be focused on other things-my classes, my responsibilities, anything but this. But Busayo had a way of getting under my skin like no one else ever had.
And the worst part? I wasn't sure I wanted her to stop.
There was something about her. The fire in her eyes when she looked at me, the way she never backed down, no matter how hard I pushed. She challenged me in ways that no one else ever did. I didn't know if I hated her for it or if I respected her more than I wanted to admit.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn't just about respect. There was something else there. Something I didn't want to acknowledge.
Because every time we clashed, every time she stood up to me, I felt something shift. It was like a tug-of-war I didn't even know I'd signed up for, but I couldn't walk away from it either.
I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated at how she'd gotten into my head like this. I had too much going on to get distracted by some girl who barely tolerated me. But as much as I tried to push her out of my thoughts, she was always there-lingering, like an unsolved puzzle.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.
It was Lucas, one of my friends. "You good, man? You've been zoning out a lot lately."
I shrugged, not wanting to get into it. "Just a lot on my mind."
He grinned. "Yeah, like that scholarship girl you can't seem to stay away from?"
I shot him a look. "Busayo? What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on, Darren," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "It's pretty obvious. You're always looking at her, and she's always glaring at you. It's like a messed-up love story."
I groaned, running a hand over my face. "There's no love story, Lucas. We just... don't get along."
Lucas chuckled. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that."
"Seriously, man," Lucas said, crossing his arms. "You should talk to her. Figure out what's going on instead of just dancing around each other like idiots."
"Why would I do that?" I snapped, the frustration spilling over. "She hates me."
"She doesn't hate you," he shot back. "She's just not impressed by you. And that's what makes her interesting."
I ran a hand through my hair again, trying to process his words. "Interesting? Is that what we're calling it now?"
"Yeah. Most girls around here are just waiting for you to notice them. But Busayo? She doesn't care. She doesn't want anything from you. That's a refreshing change."
I scoffed. "Refreshing? She's infuriating. She calls me out every chance she gets."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "And you love it. Admit it, you can't stand how much she challenges you."
"Maybe," I muttered, my mind flashing back to our last argument in the library. How she'd stood her ground, refusing to back down. There was a fire in her that I couldn't ignore, a spark that made my pulse quicken. But it also terrified me.
"Then talk to her," Lucas urged. "You might find out she's not as bad as you think."
I hesitated. What if I did talk to her? What if I went in and tried to figure out this mess between us, only to end up feeling even more confused?
But as much as I tried to shake it off, the idea of talking to Busayo wouldn't leave my mind. I wanted to know her-really know her. I wanted to see past the facade, past the anger and the walls she put up.
"Fine," I said finally, the word leaving my mouth before I could stop myself. "I'll talk to her."
Lucas grinned. "Good. Just don't screw it up."
"Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence," I said dryly.
He clapped me on the shoulder before leaving, and I sat back on my bed, my heart racing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but the idea of confronting Busayo again sent a thrill through me.
That night, I barely slept. My mind was too busy running through scenarios of how it would go, how she might react. Would she be defensive? Would she throw some snarky remark at me? Or maybe, just maybe, we'd actually connect in some way.
The thought was both exciting and terrifying.
By morning, I was still restless. I grabbed my bag and headed to class, my thoughts fixated on her. I didn't even notice the other students around me as I walked, consumed by the idea of approaching Busayo.
When I arrived at the lecture hall, I scanned the room, hoping to spot her. She was sitting in the back, earbuds in, lost in her world. My stomach twisted with nervous energy as I took a deep breath and made my way toward her.
As I approached, I hesitated for a moment, but I was already committed. I couldn't turn back now.
"Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
She looked up, surprise flashing across her face before quickly turning into guarded annoyance. "What do you want, Darren?"
I opened my mouth, struggling to find the right words. "I wanted to talk."
"About what?" She removed her earbuds, crossing her arms defensively.
"About us," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
Her brow furrowed, skepticism etched on her face. "What's there to talk about?"
"Maybe we could start with why we always end up at each other's throats," I suggested, trying to keep my tone calm.
She scoffed, looking away. "Isn't it obvious? We're just not on the same wavelength."
"Then let's change that," I said, pushing through the discomfort. "I'm tired of fighting. There's got to be more to this than just hostility."
"Why should I care?" she shot back, the edge in her voice unmistakable. "You don't even really know me."
"Exactly," I said, my voice firm. "But I want to."
Busayo's expression shifted slightly, uncertainty flickering across her features. For a moment, I thought I might have gotten through to her.
But then she shook her head, closing off again. "I don't have time for this."
And just like that, the door slammed shut.
"Busayo, wait-" I started, but she turned away, her attention back on her phone.
I felt frustration boiling inside me, but there was something else too something I couldn't ignore.
Maybe I hadn't gotten through to her this time, but I wasn't giving up. I'd find a way to break down those walls.
After all, the stakes had never felt higher, and I was ready to play the game.