You Can’t Sit with Them – 6

6  It was nearly midnight when they finally stumbled out of the pub, laughter slurred, steps uneven. The air was cool, the street quiet, and the boys were drunk, except Paul.  Paul, who hadn’t finished his first glass. Paul, who had watched the night unfold with the same distant gaze he’d always worn, like he was observing a play he refused to audition...

You Can’t Sit with Them – 5

5  They squeezed into Bayo’s Jaguar for a long drive to what may have been the only pub they were certain would take their madness. The pub was loud, dimly lit, and already humming with weekend energy. Edafe didn’t waste a second, he swaggered to the bar and ordered bottles like he was hosting a wedding. Champagne. Whiskey. Something imported with a name no one...

You Can’t Sit with Them – 4

4  The next day which is three days to her prom. It was late afternoon, the dress still hanging in her wardrobe like a promise. Osas sat on the edge of her bed, phone pressed to her ear, her heart already racing from the way Bayo had said “Hey”, flat, distant, not like him.  “I can’t go to prom,” he said....

You Can’t Sit with Them – 3

3  Osas staggered to her reading table, hoping burying her head in her books will help clear her head of her thoughts. Not long after, Yelen burst into the room, cheeks flushed from the cold, her coat trailing behind her like a cape. She dropped her bag with theatrical flair and flopped onto Osas’s bed.  “You’re nervous,” she said,...

You Can’t Sit with Them – 2

2  They sat cross-legged on the floor of their apartment, foil wrappers spread between them like ritual offerings. The kebab was messier than expected, garlic sauce dripping onto napkins, lamb charred just enough to taste like something real. Yelen had queued up a playlist: soft jazz, then a Polish indie band Osas couldn’t pronounce but liked all the same.  Osas chewed slowly, her phone balanced on her knee....

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