Chapter 09

Chapter 09

The Ex-Factor

By the time first semester began to crawl toward its end, campus had slowed into a familiar rhythm—tired students, overdue assignments, and quiet desperation hidden behind jokes. Kofi was still standing, barely, balancing work, debt, and academics like cracked plates he refused to drop.

Things with Anita were… better.

Not perfect. But real.

Until he showed up.

It started subtly.

A tall guy began appearing around Anita’s lecture halls. Always smiling. Always watching. Too comfortable.

Kofi first heard the name in passing.

“That’s Anita’s ex.”

The words stuck.

The guy—Kwame Mensah—was everything Kofi wasn’t allowed to be. Well-connected. Smooth. From money that didn’t need to announce itself. He moved like campus belonged to him.

And he made sure Kofi noticed.

Kwame didn’t confront him directly at first. He laughed too loudly when Kofi passed. Brushed shoulders on purpose. Made comments just loud enough to be heard.

“So this is the racer?” he said one afternoon, eyeing Kofi up and down. “I thought you’d be… bigger.”

Kofi ignored him.

That only made it worse.

Rumours started. Small, poisonous ones. That Kofi was using Anita. That he was violent. That he owed dangerous people money. Some were half-true. Most were not.

Anita grew tired.

“I didn’t ask for this,” she said one evening, frustration spilling over. “Everywhere I go, he’s there. Talking. Smiling like he owns my past.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Kofi said.

She shook her head. “That’s what he wants.”

The pressure escalated.

One night, Kofi found his locker tampered with. Another day, he missed an important lab notice—someone had removed his name from the group chat. Laughter followed him again, sharper now.

Kwame finally spoke to him properly.

“You’re temporary,” he said calmly. “School boys like you come and go. I’m just helping you leave faster.”

Kofi’s fists clenched.

But he remembered the crash. The debt. The scholarship.

He walked away.

End-of-semester exams loomed.

Kofi studied when he could—late nights, early mornings. Anita tried to help, but the strain was visible. Love became tense, defensive, tired.

One night, after another argument sparked by nothing and everything, Anita said the words Kofi had feared.

“I don’t know if we’re fighting the world… or each other anymore.”

Kofi had no answer.

As the semester closed, one truth was clear:

The race wasn’t on the road anymore.

It was personal.

And Kofi had no idea how fast things were about to get.