He Wasn’t Mine
I didn’t mean to fall.
But you’d be surprised how easy it is to trip when someone’s already staring at you like they’d catch you.
They were perfect — Johnson Imade and Akanbi Mattitas, Soren Arts University’s golden couple. Sickeningly sweet in a way that even hardened hearts softened to.
Mattias was SAU’s Prince Henry. A low cut, a smile that could set off butterflies, and a wink that could outrun Usain Bolt. We all loved him especially me.
But I knew one thing: he wasn’t mine and he was never going to be.
And I knew better than to want what wasn’t mine or at least I thought I did.
It was a sunny afternoon when it started. I had run five kilometres to submit my assignment but Prof. Akinmade had refused it because I was ten minutes late.
Mattias had stepped out of his office, asked me what the problem was, walked back in, and within minutes, Prof Akinmade called me back into his office and successfully submitted my assignment.
I stood there stunned, thankful for his help and my adoration for him deepening.
This was one of the reasons why Imade and everyone else were so smitten.
I kept telling myself it was harmless. Sitting at the back of the class so I could watch him. Daydreaming that his arms were around my waist, his smile was meant for me, and that I was the one he fondly called Princess.
Just harmless fantasies.
Harmless really.
Mattias would never look at me the way he looked at Imade. We were different.
She with her perfect hairdos, perfect nails that were always done, and teeth white as chalk — who has such white teeth?
Well, Imade does.
And me? I wasn’t plain either. I was beautiful too. Thick, rich natural hair I preferred to pack in an afro or twists and caramel skin that glowed under the sun. I
I wasn’t less than Imade — except I didn’t have Mattias.
Until I tripped. Literally.
I was staring at him, lost in my fantasy, and then I tripped and instead of the floor, I fell into the arms I had fantasised about for weeks. I froze but I quickly stepped back, embarrassed.
He chuckled at me and then asked, “Jola, are you okay?”
I nodded quickly, pretending it meant nothing. I clutched my bag and ran, begging my heart to calm down.
It didn’t listen.
That should have been the end but I kept catching him staring. Our eyes met dozens of times a day — yes, of course I counted. And every time, he’d grin. The kind that makes you feel special. Then I’d tear my gaze away, lower my head and laugh.
It was exactly two weeks after I tripped into Mattias’s arms that my departmental rep told me about the test I had missed and what was worse was that the lecturer had refused to have a makeup test; there were no second chances.
I had lost 20 marks and needed help fast. Without a tutor, I was going to fail. I was still deep in thought when he called for Mattias.
“Ninioluwa needs help with CRW 405; could you help out?” Jide asked.
I swallowed. I had forgotten that Mattias, aside from being the golden boy, also had a 4.86 GPA.
He grinned. “Oh, that’s no problem. Just let me know when you’ll be free,” he said, and I nodded, stunned that he had agreed so easily.
“Babyyy”, Imade called, and Mattias turned with a grin. “Coming”,
“Jola, text me,” he said before walking away. I watched him walk away, a smile on my lips.
Then the tutorials started, and instead of them turning into rigid hours of repeated teaching, they turned into long conversations where Mattias made me laugh, and I found myself craving the quiet moments we shared.
The way he leaned in when explaining, cocked his brow like he was intrigued whenever I said something or laughed at things that weren’t even that funny. Our fingers would brush like it was normal — but it never was.
Yet I knew.
He wasn’t mine.
He’d never be.
Then came the party. A classmate’s party. I wasn’t the party type — my duvet, popcorn, and Phineas and Ferb were my vibe. But Mattias said he wanted to see me there.
So I came.
The dress was my best but the makeup was worse — I wiped it off twice — but I still showed up.
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By the time I arrived, Mattias and Imade were already the centre of attention. They were glued together, laughing and whispering like they were the only ones who mattered. The butterflies in my belly died on sight.
I downed a drink. Then another. And another.
I didn’t notice him until he was crouched beside me.
“Nini, when did you get here? I’ve been looking for you.”
I snickered.
He was lying. I’d been staring at him all night, and he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Imade.
He tilted his head, worried. “Are you okay?”
Maybe it was his eyes, the way they softened or his mouth, moving with concern. All I knew was my palms cupping his cheeks and in a heartbeat, my lips on his.
He tasted like everything I imagined and hadn’t — like peppermint and cotton candy. He stilled for a heartbeat and then he kissed me back, pulling me closer, like he’d been waiting forever.
I loved it. That kiss. That moment.
And for a second, I believed he had been waiting for me too.
The world collapsed a second later. Someone screamed and we jumped apart.
“Nini, were you kissing Mattias just now?” She asked. Her scream had called everyone’s attention so her question heard loud and clear.
Silence and then loud whispers flooded the room.
Imade’s face was something I’ll never forget. She didn’t cry or yell; she just stared, like I’d ripped her lungs out and it made my heart sink.
Her lips parted but no words came and the next second, she burst into a race and ran. Mattias didn’t wait to comfort me, he burst into a race after her while I was left standing alone.
I had no idea how I got home but by the time I did, I had over a thousand notifications.
A video of Mattias and me kissing had gone viral and the internet was furious. I didn’t even know someone had been watching us to take a video.
Matt & Made’s 500k followers were livid. Hate comments and posts flooded my feed. I was tagged nonstop; my pictures were everywhere — X, Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat.
Every day brought a new wave of spam, new hate messages — some even wished I’d die.
I wanted to die too.
School was worse with people looking at me with venom and with hatred.
I cried.
I begged.
I pleaded.
But my side of the story didn’t matter. No one cared that Mattias had kissed me back — only that I’d ruined the school’s golden couple and they weren’t going to forgive me for it.
I didn’t bathe for weeks and instead I hid under my duvet, reading hate comments and sobbing but the hate only grew.
Someone made fake obituary posters with my face and pasted them around school. There was no I could go back.
A thief, a slut; that’s what they called me.
But I was innocent.
My only crime? Loving him — and one stupid, drunken mistake.
I missed an entire session of my fourth year so I had to retake the year.
On the first day back, the stares sliced through me. People looked like they had seen a ghost; they couldn’t believe I had the guts to return.
Pictures resurfaced, memes, videos. Even the obituary posters.
My heart clenched so tight I couldn’t breathe. I darted into the nearest restroom — only realising too late it was the men’s. The only occupant looked at me, then blinked.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brown eyes flickering with concern.
I couldn’t speak.
He stepped closer. “Are you okay?” He asked again, softer.
I shook my head.
Back then and now, I was the same.
I just wanted to be wanted — no matter the cost.
