The Sweetest Fruit ( Tomboy 🏳️‍🌈Love Story )

44. Fear

Sonia

Exams were over, but for teams like basketball and football, the season wasn’t. Competing meant staying behind—and in two days, we’d be flying to Ethiopia. The thought alone sent a wave of anxiety crashing over me.

On the court, my grip on the ball faltered, and it slipped from my hands.

"Ngugi, what's up?" Coach’s voice broke through the haze.

What wasn’t up? I was about to leave the only place I’d ever known, board a plane for the first time, and face athletes who’d probably leave me eating their dust. My stomach churned.

"Cramps," I lied, glancing at MJ, who raised a skeptical eyebrow. She knew me too well—and after last night, she definitely knew I wasn’t fine.

"You need a break?" Concern was written all over Coach’s face.

"No, I'm good." My voice came out steadier than I expected.

I forced myself to focus, trying not to embarrass myself further. Somehow, I made it through practice without another slip-up.

Afterward, in the locker room, MJ brushed her hand against my arm. "Hey," she said softly, her tone cutting through the din of laughter and chatter around us. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, yanking at one of my braids. Pain shot through my scalp, but it was a distraction I needed.

"Sonia." Her voice carried a weight that made me meet her gaze.

I sighed. "I’m just having a panic attack, that’s all."

MJ stepped closer, her eyes softening. "It’s going to be okay."

"What if I let the team down?" I whispered, twisting the cap off my water bottle and taking a long sip.

"What if you don’t?" She reached out, tucking a loose braid behind my ear. "You’ve worked harder than anyone here. Stop worrying so much. You’re about to see a new country—enjoy that."

I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

"Babe, get out of your head for once." She leaned in, kissed my forehead, and disappeared into a bathroom stall.

Steam filled the air as girls moved around the locker room in towels and underwear. My gaze flickered to Kora, whose reflection stared back at me from the mirror. Her eyes locked onto mine briefly before I looked away. The tattoos of flowers that wound across her back caught my attention, and despite myself, I glanced back.

My phone buzzed in my duffel bag.

Aliza: Are you available?

I hesitated before typing a quick yes.

Aliza: Can we meet at Hamtan?

The message made my stomach twist. Why was Aliza still around campus?

Me: Yes. Is something wrong?

No reply. My pulse quickened as I shoved my phone back and showered as fast as I could. Pulling on a sweatshirt and blue jean shorts, I said goodbye to MJ and made my way to the café.

At the back, I spotted Aliza nursing a coffee cup. Her leg bounced nervously under the table, her usually calm demeanor replaced by something raw and unsteady.

"Hey," I greeted, sliding into the seat beside her.

Her eyes were red, and her hands trembled as she wiped at them.

"Sonia," she whispered, her lips quivering.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, placing a hand over hers.

She didn’t answer right away, instead reaching into her black purse and pulling out a pregnancy test. My heart skipped, fear clawing at my chest.

"Aliza..."

Tears spilled over as she shook her head, burying her face in her hands. "I’m so scared."

I moved closer, wrapping my arms around her. "How far along?"

"Three weeks," she choked out.

I rubbed her back, my mind racing with questions I didn’t dare voice. The barista and a few customers were staring now, so I led her to the bathroom.

Inside, she collapsed onto the floor, vomiting into the toilet.

"Do you need me to do anything?" I asked, holding her hair back.

"Just stay," she murmured.

So I stayed. We sat on the cold tiles, watching the world move around us as if we weren’t frozen in this moment. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much her life was about to change. Aliza was just a freshman—we both were.

Eventually, I helped her to her feet.

"We need to go," I said gently.

"Call my brother," she whispered. "He’ll pick me up."

"Does he know?"

She shook her head, fear swimming in her dark eyes.

I dialed Chris’s number, and we waited outside the café. When his black BMW pulled up, I felt a surge of anger. Memories of what he’d done to MJ threatened to overwhelm me, but I shoved them down.

"Sonia," he greeted, his tone unreadable.

"Chris," I replied, my voice colder than I intended.

I helped Aliza into the car, squeezing her hand before stepping back.

As they drove away, I inhaled deeply, the humid air heavy in my lungs. The city bustled around me—parents hurrying home to cook dinner, children laughing in the streets, strangers with faces that held stories I’d never know.

I slipped my phone from my pocket, scrolling to my mother’s contact. She hadn’t called in weeks, and while I acted indifferent, the distance was killing me.

You don’t even have a relationship, my subconscious whispered.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and quickened my pace toward school.

Back in the lounge, MJ was laughing with a group of friends. When she saw me, her face lit up, and she patted the seat beside her.

I sank down, letting her world swallow mine. For now, it was enough.