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1

She had been cautioned about the types of guys who often visited the Dazzle Bar. She was informed of their determination and impulsiveness. In short, they were dangerous and spelled trouble.

For any decent girl, the Dazzle Bar was off-limits. Boma, who had just turned eighteen, took the warning to heart and made a personal vow never to go there. She kept her promise until an unexpected event broke her silent resolve, changing her otherwise peaceful campus life.

It was the night of Valentine’s Day, and romance was the last thing on Boma’s mind. But her roommate had other plans.

“Get up, let’s go out. Everyone is out connecting,” Hilda insisted impatiently.

She was dressed in a stylish party dress, her makeup perfectly done. With her dark brown eyes, curly auburn hair, and a confident smile, Hilda, around nineteen, exuded a lively energy. Despite her enthusiasm, she maintained a cool-headed demeanor, always ready to have fun but with a calm and composed attitude. She was ready to leave but refused to go without Boma.

Boma, a first-year student of arts majoring in literature, had spent her first month at the University, settling down. She had no clear goals in life apart from passing her exams and getting used to living on her own for the first time.

She was an average student and was content with that. Her middle-class parents expected average results because they understood her capabilities in that regard, so everything was fine.

Stretching herself on the top bunk of the hostel bed, which measured 30 by 75 inches, she covered her head with the pillow. The metal frame creaked softly under her weight as she adjusted herself.

“I just want to sleep,” she complained. “I’m exhausted.” Below her, Hilda’s bed lay unoccupied, neatly made.

Their dorm room was modestly furnished. Against one wall stood a small wooden table, cluttered with textbooks and notebooks, serving as their study area. Two separate wardrobes occupied another corner, housing their clothes and personal belongings. In the opposite corner, a small storage area held containers of water, a reminder of the routine task of fetching water from outside whenever the suppliers pumped water to the taps available only in the dormitory yards. In their dormitory, it was two to a room, and they were the only occupants, giving them ample space to themselves.

Hilda yanked off the pillow, prompting Boma to sit up with indignation. She glared at Hilda but remained silent.

Boma, with her oval-shaped face and light brown eyes, exuded an aura of attractiveness and innocence. Her brown hair, not too curly, cascaded around her face in gentle waves, framing her features with a natural elegance. Despite her beauty, there was a distinct lack of interest in her expression, as if the idea of going out held little appeal to her. All she longed for was a moment of tranquility and rest.

“Please,” Hilda begged. “Let’s go. You can’t let the university pass through you. You have to pass through the university. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

“Hilda, I don’t feel like going out.”

“You always don’t feel like going out. For heaven’s sake, it’s just to relax at one of the cafeterias around and have a drink. That’s all.”

“I don’t want a drink,” Boma asserted quietly.

“Fine. Stay here and be boring,” Hilda said resignedly. “You like being average. You want to avoid being seen or noticed. You keep to yourself. Furthermore, you don’t socialize. If there was a way, I’m sure you would go invisible. Keep being that way. I’m out. See you when I get back.” With that, Hilda walked out of the room, leaving Boma to her solitude.

After Hilda left, Boma lay back on the bed. The time was 7:00 pm, and the room fell into silence. Despite her earlier exhaustion, she found herself starting to miss Hilda’s presence. The label of being “boring” didn’t sit well with her anymore, and she felt a surge of determination to prove otherwise.

Sitting up on the bed, Boma made a spontaneous decision to go out. She quickly changed into jeans and a yellow blouse, grabbed a cross-body bag, slipped on flat sandals, applied lip gloss, and ran her fingers through her hair, checking her appearance in the mirror.

Her brown hair framed her oval face perfectly, complementing her light-brown eyes.

As Boma stepped outside, the campus was bathed in the soft glow of dusk, the fading sunlight casting a warm, golden hue over the surroundings. Shadows stretched across the pathways, creating a tranquil atmosphere as students mingled and moved about. The gentle breeze carried with it a sense of anticipation, adding to the enchanting ambiance of Valentine’s Day on campus.

Boma stood at the porch of her hostel, the soft evening breeze gently tousling her hair as she attempted to call Hilda’s number, but there was no answer. She observed several female students from the hostel, all forming small groups and heading out into the campus. Laughter and chatter filled the air as some of them were accompanied by different guys. It was Valentine’s Day, and the campus buzzed with excitement and activities, creating an atmosphere of anticipation and celebration.

Boma had no idea where to go. Standing outside the hostel, she called Hilda again and got no response. Finding a flier that announced a musical show, she entered a campus shuttle headed to the show’s venue.

Upon reaching there, tickets had sold out. Frustrated, she decided to call her friend again, but there was no response.

Anger set in, and she decided to go off-campus to a bar. Hilda called her boring, right? She would show her boredom.

Wearing a determined look, she took another shuttle to the campus gate, from where she hailed a taxi and headed for the popular bar that students and the locals frequented. The very bar she was warned about.

Arriving at the bar, Boma felt relieved to secure a table at one end of the bustling room. Though the place was packed, it was spacious enough to accommodate the crowd. The colorful, dim lights added to the festive atmosphere, enveloping the room in a vibrant glow. Boma felt a sense of contentment with her decision to go out.

Surrounded by mostly couples and groups of friends, all seemingly young and familiar faces from school, Boma couldn’t help but recognize them. The university’s location on an island in the thriving Village of Norwood made it easy to spot acquaintances.

As she settled in, she ordered a vodka and allowed herself to be swept away by the live band’s rendition of love songs. Just as her drink arrived, Hilda’s call interrupted the moment. Deciding to ignore it for now, Boma focused on her drink, determined to savor the evening despite the distraction.

***

Across the room, in the VIP section of the bar, Donovan, an imposingly attractive and athletic figure on the brink of twenty-two, observed the solitary girl at her table. Intrigued by her presence, he wondered if she was one of the freshmen. In his third year already, he typically didn’t pay much attention to freshmen; they tended to be too bewildered and inexperienced for his liking.

If Donovan had any interest in a girl, she had to be at least in her second year. Moreover, he wasn’t one for romance; flings suited him just fine. Once he set his sights on a girl, she became his.

Surrounded by a couple of his friends and their respective companions, Donovan found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the girl across the room. Though he sat beside a beautiful girl in an elegant dress, his arm draped around her, his attention remained fixed on the intriguing figure at the distant table. He couldn’t deny his growing interest in her.

For a brief moment, Donovan observed one of his close associates, Harry, staring at the girl. Was he also checking her out?

Their eyes met, prompting Donovan to send Harry a quick SMS.

Do you like what you’re staring at, Harry?

Harry’s expression turned puzzled and cautious as he read the message before responding,

I do, but you know that I already have a girl.

Donovan replied with a smiley emoji and added,

Great, because I’m already deeply drawn.

They exchanged a knowing glance and raised their glasses in silent understanding, acknowledging their mutual appreciation for the captivating girl across the room.

The girl in Donovan’s arms smiled at him, and he reciprocated with a charming grin. Without breaking his gaze on the girl alone at the table, he leaned in and fed his companion a sip of beer from his glass, his attention fixed on the captivating beauty on the other side.

Boma reluctantly answered her friend’s call.

“Hello,” she sighed.

“Where are you? I’ve been calling. You had me worried,” Hilda’s voice sounded frantic.

“I called you too, but you didn’t pick up,” Boma complained.

“I was at the music show since you wouldn’t join me for a drink. A fight broke out, and the show got canceled. So, I decided to go back to the room, and you’re not here.”

“I’m at Dazzle Bar.”

“What?”

“Dazzle Bar.”

“I heard you. Why would you go there? That’s where all the bad guys hang out. Have you forgotten?”

“You’re the one who called me boring.”

“That doesn’t mean you should go crazy.”

“Chill, Hilda. I’m fine here.”

“Please, pray that no school fraternity guy notices you because that’s their hangout. Those guys are dangerous. And if they want a girl, they don’t need her permission. Please leave that place now, I beg you.”

Donovan watched intently as the girl across the room engaged in conversation on her phone. His curiosity piqued, he wondered who she was talking to. His interest heightened, and he fervently hoped it wasn’t a guy. As the thought solidified in his mind, his determination crystallized—he wanted to know her, but more than that, he wanted her.

Removing his arm from the girl beside him, Donovan gestured to Phillip, his steadfast right-hand man, who stood nearby.

Phillip leaned in, offering Donovan his ear.

“The girl in the yellow blouse across the room. Ever seen her?”

“No, P.O. Maybe she’s one of the new students in our school.”

“Find out.”

Meanwhile, Boma listened to her friend’s advice but chose not to heed it.

“I’ll be back when I’m done,” she assured. “Thanks for your concern. I’ll be careful.”

“Hmm. I’m not comfortable with that, so I’m coming over,” Hilda insisted.

“Suit yourself,” Boma responded with a shrug as Hilda ended the call. She then ordered a fresh bottle of vodka.

As the waiter brought her drink along with a note, Boma’s curiosity was piqued.

“Who’s it from?” she inquired, surprised.

“Someone in the bar,” the waiter replied before departing.