Page 1 of Blake University HBCU Chronicles: Nuri & Silas

I t was the rain for her. The way it came soft.

Not loud. Not angry. Just... gentle. It played low from her phone, like the sky was whispering warnings she didn’t know how to listen to yet.

Like it understood the version of her that didn’t always speak, but always felt.

Thunder whispered somewhere in the distance—nothing strong enough to scare, just enough to remind her that even quiet had its weight.

Nuri Sinclair sat still in the windowpane, legs curled, hoodie wrapped tight around her thick thighs like a second skin.

She didn’t have much on… just her soul and silence.

The sunset was bold.

Orange bleeding into gray.

It was pretty as hell, but a glimpse of pain sat behind it. The kind that didn’t show up until later. That’s what Cove City, Georgia did—it dressed its storms in beauty. Blake University had become her world.

It was home.

It was history.

Her family had deep roots in that school. Fifteen generations deep, to be exact. Blake University stood tall, just a few miles from her house; but its grip reached far. Legacy lived in its bricks, and secrets too.

The Sinclair name had been stitched into Blake’s soil for fifteen straight generations. Yet she walked the halls with confidence and grace. Not because they permitted her, but because she earned that shit.

She was twenty-two, and her aura screamed Black Girl Magic everywhere she went.

She was the kind of girl who remembered everything you forgot you told her.

She was born with this innate ability to tap into the mind and spirit of the people around her.

It was a gift and the reason she delved into Psychology as her major.

Nuri was at the Top of her class, and had pledged to a sorority called Veta XI-VX. Their motto was Bold and Classy. Fearless and Sassy. When she wasn’t studying, she stayed in the streets—not on some party vibes, but watching. Learning Cove City like the back of her hand.

Clubs.

Café’s

Corners.

Cracks in the system.

She knew how to move in a loud-ass city where she trusted herself only.

She didn’t chase the spotlight, but somehow it followed her everywhere she went.

Nuri was that girl, and everyone knew it.

She was 5’5, slim thick, weighing no less than one hundred and forty-five pounds soaking wet.

Her hair was naturally curly, but stretched down her back when straightened.

Her eyes were hazel and her heart-shaped lips stayed glossy.

Her home was tucked in a cul-de-sac in The Legends.

She’d bought it last year, quietly. No long captions.

No key-in-hand Instagram post. Just her, a closing date, and a silent promise to upgrade her life every chance she got.

She’d gone from a 2020 Honda Accord to a 2025 Lexus ES Sedan .

Everything was falling in line as she got closer to the finish line.

Nuri was in her soft-life era. She was living the kind of life that afforded her the tenacity and endurance needed to build the life she desired brick by brick.

All those strong prayers she prayed… Early mornings and late nights were working in her favor.

But even in all the good happening in her life, there was a stirring.

A pull. Something she couldn’t name that lingered.

It wasn’t fear.

It was… awareness. Like her spirit knew something her mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

Nuri’s phone lit up beside her—group chat jumping, sorors talking wild about the upcoming block party, outfits, who wasn’t invited, and which steps they were going to perform.

Suddenly, Nuri’s phone rang just as she was about to get up and use the bathroom.

She was mid-thought, staring past the sunset, caught up in nothing and everything when her phone vibrated in her lap.

Her best friend’s name lit up on the screen of Nuri’s phone.

“You ate?” Bre asked as soon as Nuri answered. She never said hello first. That was her style…straight to the point.

“Hey, bestie,” Nuri laughed.

“What’chu doin’?”

“Girl, not one damn thing. Been sittin’ here lookin’ out this window tryna get my life together.” Nuri answered, the smile on her face was evident through her tone.

“Girl, worry about it tomorrow. Right now, I’m hungry than a mug. Let’s go get some food, then we can talk about this block party.” Bre replied, rubbing her belly, trying her best to stop it from growling.

“I could definitely eat. I was gone fix something here.”

“Nah, save the leftovers. We hittin’ Copeland’s. I’m ten minutes out.”, Brielle, returned the same energy with her response.

“Okay. Do you wanna ride with me, or you driving?” Nuri asked, slowly turning away from the window.

“You can drive. I’ll text you when I’m out front.”

“Sounds good,” Nuri said, before disconnecting from the call.

She sent a few quick responses to the group chat, then stood and stretched her limbs.

Nuri quickly opened her drawer and grabbed her two-piece mauve-colored sweatsuit, and socks to match.

She quickly made her way to the bathroom to freshen up, change clothes, and touched up the messy bun that was sitting comfortably in the center of her head.

Nuri was naturally beautiful, so she never had to do too much; her soft grey eyes effortlessly heightened her appeal.

As soon as Nuri stepped out of the bathroom, she doubled back to grab her go-to silver hoops.

She wore them often because it was the last thing her grandmother had given her before she passed away three years ago.

Once done, she stepped back into her bedroom, glossed her lips, and sprayed herself with one of her favorite go-to perfumes, Gucci Bloom.

It smelled so good it made her heart sing.

The chiming of her phone reminded her of the time.

She didn’t have to look at her phone because she already knew it was Brielle.

Nuri spritzed herself a few more times, grabbed her purse and keys, then met Bre outside after securing her home.

“Okay, sis! That’s how you feelin’ today?” Bre said, admiring her best friend. “You look so pretty.”

Nuri did a little twirl, popping her imaginary collar. She laughed. “Thanks, sis. You lookin’ good too, and I love that shirt babes,” she complimented, hugging her bestie.

Bre wore black, curve-hugging jeans, and a crimson red t-shirt that said ‘Veta XI-VX’ in gold lettering, and their sorority motto printed on the back:

“Bold and Classy. Fearless and Sassy.”

“Thank ya,” Bre smiled with pride. “You know I gotta represent our sisterhood every chance I get.”

“Facts,” Nuri agreed, hitting the locks so they could be on their way.

H.E.R.’s Find A Way pulsed through the speakers instantly after Nuri ignited the engine.

“Aye’... Got this shit up out the mud still grindin’ like I’m tryna get my weight up.

Went and gave too many chances to you niggas I can’t let nobody play us.

Yeah, I got in my bag when I looked up ain’t see nothin’ but a bunch of haters…

” Bre and Nuri harmonized with H.E.R. on the first verse of the song.

Twenty Minutes Later…

Copeland’s sat on the edge of Cove’s historic district, tucked between a soul food spot and a Black-owned wine shop.

The dim lighting, upscale tables with crisp white table cloths, gold-trimmed menus, the scent alone was sinful—blackened catfish, butter sauce, and fried crab claws that had no business looking that damn good.

Smooth jazz and soft R&B played just low enough to give the room rhythm.

The type of place that made you slow down, even if you were in a rush.

Jazz crawled through the speakers like honey, thick and sweet.

Nuri and Bre were very picky when it came to certain foods, and they hardly ever favored buffet-style restaurants.

However, Copeland’s had earned their loyalty years ago.

As they followed the waitress to their table, Professor Silas Sullivan reached out and grabbed Nuri’s hand, slowing her down so he could speak.

“How you doin’, Nuri?”

“Hey, Professor Sullivan?” Nuri returned with a genuine smile.

“Hey, Professor Gaines,” Bre spoke to her English professor.

“What’s going on, Brielle? It’s nice to see both of you,” Professor Gaines replied.

While they all quickly returned pleasantries, Nuri secretly crushed on Professor Sullivan.

He’s been her guilty pleasure all year long, but he was forbidden.

Professor Gaines was tall, slim athletic frame, long locs, and had a laid-back demeanor.

But, there was something distinctly different about Professor Sullivan.

His Aura, Magnetic and Peaceful.

His Demeanor, Calm, and Confident.

His Scent, Sandalwood, and BDE.

There was no doubt, Professor was an alpha male. He was 6’2, fine as hell, and had a presence that was so fucking commanding words weren’t necessary- Nuri’s panties would involuntarily fall at the first opportunity she got to give him the pussy.

“Guess y’all had a taste for some creole food tonight too, huh?” Professor Sullivan asked.

“Yess, we love this place,” Nuri answered. “I’m surprised to see you off campus. You’re always working.”

“As long as I’m breathin’, I’ma always get to the bag. I’ll rest when I’m dead.” Professor Sullivan told her.

“Damn right,” Professor Gaines agreed.

“I know that’s right,” Bre said, signaling with her eyes for Nuri to follow her. “Alright, we’ll see y’all later.”

Bre was the only one in the world who knew about her crush on Professor Sullivan.

“Alright. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Nuri,” Professor Sullivan said, then redirected his attention to his colleague.