chapter 2:The gravity between us

Chapter 2: The Gravity Between Us

Brantyre woke to the weight of exhaustion pressing against his chest. Two hours of sleep had done little to refresh him, but the morning had begun its quiet hum. Nelly lay awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, her thoughts distant, while Sarah lay curled on the bed, pretending to be asleep. Too still. Too measured.

A smirk crept onto Brantyre’s lips as he stretched his arms. “Nataka also, Brantyre usiendee.”

Sarah let out a muffled giggle, abandoning the charade as she rolled onto her side. Nelly burst into laughter, shaking her head at Brantyre’s teasing. The air lightened, carrying the easy comfort of close friends recovering from a turbulent night.

But beneath the laughter, Brantyre felt it—that quiet, persistent pull between him and Sarah. It had lingered in the way she had leaned into him the night before, in the way she let him carry her, unspoken trust settling between them like something fragile and unacknowledged.

Later that morning, a knock disrupted their bubble. Alsovine and Agneta—Sarah’s friends who had conveniently disappeared at Jombaz—stood at the door. The flicker of disappointment in Sarah’s eyes was almost imperceptible, but Brantyre noticed. He always noticed.

Sarah greeted them with practiced warmth, masking whatever hurt lay beneath. When they left soon after, it was just the three of them again—Sarah, Brantyre, and Nelly. The girls, fueled by morning energy, set up their phones to record TikToks, laughter spilling through the room. Brantyre, disinterested in social media antics, leaned against the bed in quiet conversation with Alsovine.

Then came the cake mission. Sarah and Nelly left for Jombaz, tasked with retrieving the much-debated cake that had become a campus spectacle. When they returned empty-handed, Brantyre raised an eyebrow.

“I see no cake, kwani iko? '

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. As if we’d get the chance. The comrades practically devoured it before we even stepped foot there.”

But their errand hadn’t been entirely wasted. The conversation had shifted—to Nelly’s tangled feelings about Faraj. She had left him drunk the night before, choosing to stay with Sarah instead. Now, the weight of that choice sat between them, pressing for resolution.

Back at Sarah’s house, she and Nelly made a firm declaration: they needed privacy. Brantyre and Alsovine were politely dismissed.

Brantyre wasn’t pleased. And he was even less amused by what Sarah had said earlier—her teasing mention of a threesome. At the time, it had been a throwaway joke, casual and fleeting, but now it sat in his mind like an itch he couldn’t ignore.

Outside, standing beside Alsovine, Brantyre exhaled sharply, staring at the door Sarah had just closed behind her. There was something about her—about the way she moved through life with this chaotic grace—that unsettled him.

And in the quiet press of the morning, Brantyre realized something else.

He wasn’t just irritated.

He wanted her.

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