The Sweetest Fruit ( Tomboy 🏳️‍🌈Love Story )

45. Ethiopia

MJ

I know Sonia has been freaking out about everything—especially Ethiopia—and the fact that when we return, we actually have to go home. She doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Another yawn escapes my mouth as I roll our suitcases toward the inspection point. Sonia lags behind me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Babe, hurry,” I call, stretching out my hand for her. She takes a few slow steps forward, placing her hand in mine. Her hair bounces with every step, stray strands catching the airport's bright fluorescent lights.

The airport isn’t as crowded as usual, and all I can think about is finding thirty minutes of rest before takeoff. We find a bench near the entrance, and as soon as I wrap my arms around her, Sonia’s eyes flutter shut. She’s asleep within minutes, her breathing soft and steady.

We reach Addis Ababa early in the morning, and the city greets us with the hum of life starting anew. From the airport, we head directly to the school. Sonia looks more at ease now, her curiosity piqued by every sight and sound.

“The people here are so beautiful,” she says, her voice filled with awe as she points to a group strolling near the city center. She isn’t wrong—the girls especially radiate confidence and grace.

When we finally arrive at the school, I can’t help but stare. It’s massive—bigger than ours—and their library is the largest I’ve ever seen. I’ve watched a couple of their games online, and nervous energy buzzes under my skin. Their lead player, Amhra, is a beast on the court. If I wasn’t competing against her, I’d probably be fangirling from the sidelines—not that I’d ever admit that.

“ Uh something.. International University,” Sonia reads aloud, skipping the schools name as the bus glides through the school gates.

A group of girls greets us with cheers, handing out sashes as a welcome. It’s surreal, but I remind myself the competition is at three. There’s no time to lose focus.

“You must be Amhra,” I say as I approach the girl who’s been dominating my thoughts.

“And you must be the infamous MJ,” she replies, shaking my hand. Her grip is firm, her presence intimidating.

“Infamous?”

She laughs, flashing perfect white teeth—and one gold canine.

“So, are you ready to get your ass kicked?”

“I think you mean I’m about to wipe the floor with you,” I retort, my confidence laced with fake bravado.

Her laugh echoes across the court as she adjusts her white and blue jersey. She’s an inch taller than me, but that won’t matter once we’re playing.

“We’ll see about that.”

Amhra jogs to the court, and the game begins with the referee’s whistle.

The first half is intense. The crowd’s cheers echo in the gym, a constant wave of sound as sneakers squeak against the polished floor. By halftime, it’s a draw—20-20. Sweat clings to my skin, and my heart races.

“Two points, and we’re the winners,” Coach says, pulling us into a huddle. “Ladies, this is your moment. Put everything you’ve got into this. Kora, work closely with MJ. Anna, I need you defending like never before. Don’t let them breathe out there.”

We nod in unison, adrenaline coursing through our veins as the whistle signals the final half.

The game turns into a blur of fast breaks and sharp passes. Every muscle in my body burns as I focus on the ball, weaving past defenders and scanning the court for an opening. Amhra is relentless, her movements fluid, her focus unshakable.

With ten seconds left, the score is tied. Kora passes me the ball, and I make a desperate drive to the basket. Amhra’s there, her arms raised to block me, but I fake left and spin right, releasing the ball just as the buzzer sounds.

It’s a clean shot. The ball swishes through the net, and the crowd erupts into cheers. We’ve won.

Sonia is waiting for me on the sidelines, her face glowing with pride she played the first and didn't screw up despite thinking she would. I scoop her into a hug, spinning her around despite my exhaustion.

Later, as we sit on the bus back to the hotel, Sonia looks up at me, her voice quiet. “MJ, where will I stay?”

“In one of our apartments,” I say, my tone soft but certain.

Her brows knit together in confusion.

“My older brother owns an apartment complex,” I explain. “We’ll stay there until we figure things out.”

She nods, her head resting on my shoulder as she drifts to sleep again. I tighten my arms around her, determined to keep her safe—no matter what lies ahead.