On Dares, Views, and Her?
Top bunk, she had a view that several would fight for. It was not one that showed a beautiful expanse of land, nor was it one that showed nature in its glory. In fact, it was not so high up. Really, it was just the third floor of the apartment building she lived which also happened to be the highest of the floors. It wasn’t a view she believed anyone would fight for, as the view was after all just the road that led to the very popular former boarding school.
Built by the missionaries some 20something year ago, it had recently enjoyed some renovations, so it had become a tourist center. Sort of. The people that pooled around at all time in and out of the gates confirmed her suspicions. She wasn’t yet sure what the Government intended to do with all that space. It was trees, and skies. It was people, littered around as early as six in the morning. It was the endless horns from all sorts of vehicles during the day, and it was the quiet as night reached.
The streets looked blue (not surprising at all since it was in fact, blue, but maybe even more so because of the dark blue skies), and the people looked small. Solemn, relaxed, they did not look to possess that force that everyone seemed to have in their steps during the day.
It was late, and everyone looked tired. Almost like they were simply relieved that nature had given the permit to breathe. There was a lazy lilt to their steps, and there was freedom in the air. She saw a lady who had braids that reached past her butt move her head slowly, in tune, Fola guessed, to the music that played in the device she had plugged to her ear. Something she doubted the lady would have the bravery to do had it been day time. Or maybe she would. Fola did not know her afterall.
There was freedom in the air, and that was exactly what Fola felt as she stared down from her bed, trying not to dissect what it was she was feeling, but unable to help it. Was it excitement? Nervousness? Giddiness? Fear? She took a deep breath, and decided it was a mix of the four, even as she knew they probably qualified as simply synonyms.
It was dark, but she would recognize him anywhere. His dressing, the way he walked, and…him, and there he was.
He stood just at a spot that would be perfect she saw him. She knew he could not see her, but with the way he stood, his head tilted just so, it felt like he could see her. She imagined how his eyes would look. Hooded. Full of intent.
He was wearing a face cap, his hands in his pocket, and one feet tapped lazily every three seconds. She wondered if he knew he tapped like that. She wondered if he counted it. She would not be surprised if he did.
Everything about him seemed so intentional. That was the way it would appear to anyone who cared to watch him, and that had been her conclusion about him at first. And it was, till they had started talking, which had happened in the course of her fulfilling a dare. She had moved to the man who waited just outside the gate to the mall, a model of one so composed even as he tapped away on his phone.
She had been risking glances at him, and had the plan to leave it at that, till Oyinda, her friend whom she had accompanied to the mall, caught her gaze on him one too many a time and dared her to go talk to him. Composed remained her guess about him, till he turned and rested his eyes on her as she walked towards him. It made her self-conscious, and the journey that she knew took only a few steps to him now felt like hundred.
She wished he simply had not noticed, or ignored her till she got to him. How was he so sure that she was headed his way anyway? Probably because her eyes remained fixed on him even as she reached him.
She reached, and felt breathless for no reason she could figure out. Her heart rammed in her chest, and she did not know when she raised her hands to rub at her chest, an unconscious movement to try to stay it.
That was the first time his eyes left hers. It was planted just where her hand was, right above her breast. She looked down, and realized that her hands there had somehow dragged her shirt down to expose more of her cleavage. Dumbly, she released her hands to let it fall back to her sides.
It was five heartbeats before he finally looked up to her. She counted. Five normal heart beats, thirteen of hers.
“Hi.” He said as his eyes settled on hers again, and she nodded, then looked back for her friend who was magically not there anymore. She wished could disappear, if only to regain her composure. This was taking so long already.
She wasn’t sure what about him had gotten her so rattled. And now, as she looked down from her bed at him and cast glances to her phone to see if he would place a call, she still did not know what it was about him. Actually, now, there was a number, but it was surprising that she had been so drawn to one whose face was the only she knew about him at the time.
“I came here to talk to you. I’m not quite sure what it was I intended to say, but I haven’t been able to stop watching you since I saw you standing here, so I chose to come to you.” She said, her hands now deep into her jean pockets as she waited for his response.
He did not say anything, but it looked like he was holding back a smile. That was normally a good line, and it usually allowed a good conversation start, but that was probably because she had always said it in a tone of contained goofiness, not with the seriousness this one sounded like.
“My name is Fola.” She started again, and just then, saw a lady appear at his side, put her arm in the space between his arm and his body, and molded her fingers in his.
He regarded the lady with mild amusement. Or maybe that was what she chose to see.
He still did not say anything, and after another beat (she was seriously contemplating walking off now), bent a little to whisper to his new companion, who stared at her for about two seconds before she skipped away.
“I have to leave now, but I will give you my number.
Like a damn robot, her plan to leave forgotten, she stretched her phone out to him. This time, he smiled as he received it, and typed out his number.
“Call me when you’ve figured out what to say.”
She nodded, and he walked past her. His sides brushed hers just a little, and she could swear it was intentional, but she did not know anymore.
She looked at the phone in her hands, and realized then that he had not told her his name.
Trying to regain her composure, she saved it as Eyes and looked around for her friend who, wonder of all wonders, was now walking towards her.
“Well that took…longer than I expected. You’ve had faster work rates.
Fola did not say anything, and Oyinda paused, looked at her more carefully, then smiled.
“Took your breath away did he?”
Fola smiled at that, held her friends’ hands, and they walked to where Oyinda’s car was parked.
Fola did not call him that evening when she got home, nor did she call the next day. She thought about it. Hard, and she wondered why she was stressing so much about it. She could forget any of it had happened. Continue with her life, but no matter how she tried, she could not get him off her mind, and it wasn’t like she was really trying if she was honest with herself. His number was after all still in her phone.
Thinking about him was refreshing. It was a distraction she was all too ready to entertain.
She called him on the third day, sometime around six in the evening. He did not say any as he picked, but she heard faint pickings of his breath and what she guessed to be a television, so she knew he was on the line.
The first she whispered was “Eyes.”
They had talked, and it had continued for a week, and he always called before she did. The calls begun to start at later times, to go on for longer than it had been the first day she called. She wondered what it would be like to see him again in person, but she enjoyed the rapport they seemed to have developed, and she had been content with it, or so she thought, till he asked where she stayed once her laugh had subsided from a joke he had told her.
She had been still, and he had called her name in that way he did that sounded so full of breath yet so out of it, and repeated himself.
She had let out a shuddering breath, and asked if he really wanted see her. If he wanted to see her dissolve to crumbs and not be capable of speech? He had laughed at that, and god, she loved that sound, and then said the novelty would have worn off he was sure, then repeated his question about her address.
She told him, and he had paused, then said he was going to see her tomorrow.
Today was tomorrow, and here he was. Here she was. She had visited the salon this morning to get her hair, nails and toes done, with facials, because she…she did not know exactly what she wanted, but she also wanted him to want her.
She knew he did. He had been so fervent in their conversations, and it was clear he looked forward to talking to her, but she wanted him to want her hard. Just as she wanted him, and more.
And now, she wondered if he had not yet called because he knew she would be watching from her bed. She had told him all about this window and how she often found herself staring down at it all the time.
She had just decided to come down from her bed when her phone rang.
He was the one calling.
“Come with change of clothes for tomorrow.”
She brought the phone from her ears, then shook her head. She was not that crazy. Not yet anyway.
“Dayo…”
“You know you want to.”
His tone took a suggestive tone, or maybe she was the one that was imagining it. Either way, she was not giving in.
“I imagine there will be so much to say that we won’t exhaust tonight. That, or there might be very little to say, and so much to do. Either way, we would need tonight. Not just an hour or two.”
She laughed at that, and locked her room door behind her. She shared his sentiments. An hour or two would not do, but it would have to do for today. For now.
“I’m coming downstairs Dayo. The world isn’t ending tonight, and neither is you or I. I will see you in a minute.”
He did not say nothing, but she sensed him smiling on the phone. Her decision was more from confusion than any other. She needed to get her bearings about him first.
“Alright Ma’am. I’m waiting”.
As she skipped down the stairs, she pondered on what she had said. What if tonight was her end? Or his?
What if this was the only other moment nature would allow them together?
Thank you for reading! I mentioned in the last post that I would try to do a February challenge of sorts. The plan would be to publish at least two writes every week.
Happy New Month!
-Femi