The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chatter of students, the clinking of cutlery, and the faint hum of a ceiling fan that barely cooled the warm afternoon air.

Laylah sat in the midst of her small group of friends, nervously twisting the hem of her abaya. Her eyes darted around as if searching for something—or rather, someone. As if she'd just suddenly see him in the school premises.

"Nifa gaskiya ban damuba, I just want us to start talking," Laylah repeated for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Her tone was desperate, her words laced with helplessness as she looked at her friends, hoping they'd come up with some magical solution.

Safiya, who was leaning lazily against the chair, raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said he's not worthy..." she started, but the sharp glare from Laylah made her swallow her words and look away.

Laylah hissed, rubbing her temples as if the action would ease her inner uproar. "Why do you always have to be stupid, Safiya?"

She sank in her seat after Laylah yet another harsh statement thrown at her. She should be used to it by now there's nothing good in being constantly insulted and seen as the dumb and weak one.

"I don't know what to do. He traveled to Lagos and just came back this week, but I've been nothing but polite and nice to him. Still, he doesn't even acknowledge me—not one bit!" Her voice cracked slightly, betraying how deeply this was affecting her.

"What should I do, guys? His thoughts are always surrounding my head, and I can barely sleep at night." Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. She didn't want to appear too vulnerable, even in front of her friends.

Yasmin leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "Laylah, relax. You're making this harder than it has to be. First of all, you need to find a way to talk to him. How about we get his number?" Her tone was cheerful, and her smile was reassuring as if she already had the entire situation figured out.

Laylah shot her a doubtful look. "And then what? Stare at his number on my phone without doing anything? I can't just text him out of nowhere, Yasmin. I don't want to look cheap in his eyes."

"Cheap?" Yasmin chuckled, shaking her head. "You're overthinking it, as usual. We'll figure something out once we get the number. Trust me."

Safiya, sitting slouched on her chair, rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Honestly, I don't even know why you're bothering yourself over Jawwad. He's so arrogant and reserved. Do you think he'll even care about some random messages? That guy doesn't notice anyone, Laylah."

Laylah turned sharply to face her, her eyes narrowing. "If you don't have anything useful to say, Safiya, just keep quiet. Duk maganar da zakiyi ba hankali ah ciki!" Her tone was icy, and she didn't bother hiding her irritation. She added a glare for good measure, making Safiya shrug and sink further into her chair.

Yasmin spoke up again "If you're really serious about this, then you should get his number. We can think of a way to get his attention from there. It's a small step, but at least it's something."

Laylah hesitated, her fingers tapping nervously on the table. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of actively chasing someone who barely noticed her. The thought of looking desperate made her stomach churn, but at the same time, she couldn't deny how badly she wanted Jawwad to notice her.

Yasmin's eyes sparkled mischievously as an idea popped into her head. "I've got it! You don't even have to ask him directly for his number. Just get it from Ya Umar. He has it, right?"

Laylah frowned, not convinced. "And then what? What do I even do with his number? I'm not about to call him randomly or send a boring 'hi.' That's embarrassing."

Yasmin reached over and patted Laylah on the shoulder. "Leave that part to us. Once you get his number, we'll start sending him anonymous messages—something sweet and intriguing that'll catch his attention. We'll make him fall for the mysterious person texting him. And then, when he's hooked, we'll reveal it's you! By that point, he won't have any option but to see how amazing you are."

Laylah's mouth fell open. "Are you serious? That sounds ridiculous, Yasmin. What if it backfires? What if he gets angry?"

Yasmin only smiled wider, her confidence unwavering. "Trust me, Laylah. He won't get angry. Jawwad may be reserved, but he's a man. Men like a bit of mystery, and we'll give him just enough to keep him intrigued."

Safiya snorted but said nothing. Amina gave a small nod, her expression unreadable. Laylah bit her lip, torn between her reluctance and her growing desperation.

She exhaled slowly, leaning back in her chair. "Fine. I'll get the number but not through Ya Umar. I will check Mamii's phone. And I swear, if this goes wrong, Yasmin, I'll never forgive you."

"It won't go wrong!" Yasmin grinned triumphantly. "This will work, I promise. Just wait and see."

Laylah couldn't help but wonder how she had gotten herself into this situation. Jawwad was nothing like the boys she'd known before. He was arrogant, yes, but he carried himself with a confidence that was hard to ignore.

His sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and smooth, deep voice haunted her thoughts day and night. Whenever their eyes met, her heart raced uncontrollably, and it took all her strength not to crumble under the intensity of his gaze.

Even now, as she thought about him, her chest tightened. He had a way of making her feel small, powerless, and yet she couldn't stay away. His indifference was like a knife cutting through her pride, and she hated how much control he had over her emotions.

Laylah shook her head, her stomach twisting with both fear and hope. "I don't know how you're going to pull this off, Yasmin. But I hope you're right."

Yasmin smiled, patting her shoulder again. "You'll see. Just trust me."

After lunch, they made their way back to their department for the final lectures of the day. The sun burned brightly outside, casting golden streaks across the walls, while the lecture hall buzzed with the low hum of conversations and rustling papers.

Laylah sat in the middle row, her notebook open in front of her, but her pen remained still. The lecturer's voice echoed in the room, a deep monotone that blended with the occasional whir of the ceiling fan. Yasmin and Safiya scribbled notes diligently, but Laylah's thoughts were elsewhere.

Her mind, stubborn and restless, kept wandering back to Jawwad. His calm demeanor, his quiet nature—it all puzzled her. She had tried to brush it off during lunch, but now, in the silence of the classroom, the thoughts resurfaced.

By the time the lectures ended, Laylah felt drained, not from learning, but from her own overthinking. She packed her books with slow movements, her gaze occasionally flickering to Yasmin and Safiya, who were chatting excitedly about the weekend. As they left the lecture hall, Laylah's resolve hardened.

She dropped off her friends first before she headed home. And by the time she arrived, it was getting so late.

Stepping into the living room, Laylah was greeted by the sight of her father scolding Umar. Daddy's stern voice echoed through the room, his face serious as he spoke about marriage.

"Umar, you're not getting any younger," daddy said, leaning forward slightly as he gestured with his hands. "It's time you start thinking about settling down. You're not a boy anymore."

Laylah couldn't help but smile at the scene. She dropped her bag on the couch and walked over, hugging her father from the side as she settled beside him.

"Daddy, good evening," she said, her voice warm.

Her father's expression softened as he looked at her. "Ah, mamana! How was school today?"

"I'm tired," she replied, leaning back against the couch dramatically. "These lecturers won't kill somebody. And to think I still have two years to go!"

Her father chuckled. "You'll survive, my dear. Two years will pass before you know it."

Laylah sighed, her gaze shifting to Umar, who was sitting with a frown on his face. "But Daddy, I heard you talking to Ya Umar about marriage," she said, a playful smile spreading across her face. "I'm so excited! I'll be the event planner for his wedding!"

Umar glared at her, his lips curling in annoyance. "Keh! Wa ya saka bakinki? Will you get out of here."

She laughed, enjoying the way his face scrunched up in annoyance. "Why are you angry? Am I not your little sister again?"

"Just get out of here," he snapped, pointing towards the door.

Their father laughed heartily at their banter, shaking his head as Laylah stood up. She stuck her tongue out at Umar before hurrying towards the kitchen, where she could hear her mother's voice.

In the kitchen, the delicious aroma of spices filled the air. Maami stood by the counter, supervising the maids as they prepared dinner. When Laylah entered, she immediately went over to hug her mother.

"Maami, sannu da gida, ina yini," she said, her voice soft and tired.

"Asma'ul Husna, you're just coming back now? Why so late?" Maami asked, turning to look at her.

"I had to drop Yasmin and Safiya at home," Laylah explained, leaning against the counter. "I'm so tired and hungry, Maami."

Maami smiled warmly. "Dinner will be ready soon. Go upstairs and freshen up."

With a small nod, Laylah left the kitchen. But instead of heading to her room, she made her way to her Maami's room. Her heart pounded as she entered, her gaze darting around the neatly arranged space. On the dressing table, Maami's phone sat quietly.

Laylah hesitated for a moment, her palms slightly sweaty as if what she was about to do was risky. Asking for his number was nothing, considering that Jawwad is like family now.

She picked up the phone and quickly opened the call log. Scanning through the names, she found what she was looking for—Jawwad's number.

Her fingers trembled as she quickly copied the number onto her own phone. Once she was done, she placed the phone back exactly where she had found it and hurried out of the room, her heart still racing.

Back in her room, she felt a strange mix of guilt and satisfaction. She typed out a message to Yasmin, sending the number with a short note.

In Yasmin's room, the text came through just as she was writing another love message to Jawwad. She paused, reading Laylah's message. A deep frown crossed her face, and she hissed under her breath.

"Laylah is so stupid," Yasmin muttered to herself, tossing her phone onto the bed. "She thinks she can take Jawwad from me? Never. He's mine, and I won't let her have him."

Her eyes burned with envy as she picked up her phone again, plotting her next move.