Chapter two

Tiana's POV

It's been days now and I saw him but traces of things he left behind. He never came to  visit me like he promised. 

I forced myself out of the bed and stretched myself. I feel like my whole joint have been stiffened together and I felt lazy and weak.                         

  

 Even if he was still going to stay in touch with me, it's not gonna be like before. My mum told me that he has another family to return to when he leaves.

The fact is that the intimacy has been lost. I screw up strength to move, I felt so light; never felt like this before  I swear.

               

I crawled up to my bed and slept back again.  I rolled to and fro on the bed and collapsed on the bare floor.  I couldn't go climb the bed anylonger so slept off on the floor. 

**************

I woke up with tear stained face and broken body. I stared at the wall clock;it was 8:05pm.       

"Fuck it"I mumbled to myself trying to get up. I feel less pain now, I mean emotional pain. I crawled to my bed and climbed up. I took my phone from the one night stand to find nine missed calls with five unread messages.

The missed calls and unread texts came from one person.                                       

Who can this be? I virtually have no friends, no boyfriend, the only person that can do this was the person that left my life few minutes ago. The greatest shock of my life welcomed me when I saw who it came from, Blake! Blake Anthony of all people.                   

Blake, Cynthia's pretence boyfriend. Blake, a certified heartbreaker, fuck boy, number one playboy in Stockfield, the almighty bully, the god of good looks, the boy I always respect because I hate problems.       

It can't be, I was not and never his type. I don't flirt with him like all other girls do, so... wait! How did he get my number.             

I wasn't angry though , but I was obviously taken away with surprise. I laughed hystericallcares flung up my phone at the thought of new independence from my protective dad. Though I'd miss him, but I'm free to make any decision on my own. My mum? Who cards?! 

I called back and after three rings he picked up.            

"Hello" my  broken voice indicated I've been crying all this while.

"Hello, are you okay? what's wrong with you? You've been crying all this while right?... Tiana, are you still there? Ohhh...I'm  sorry for asking you rivers of questions..." then I cut him.

    

"It's okay besides I am fine thanks for the missed calls." I must confess, Blake's tone of worry and concern struck me dumb.

Then he replied, "Take cute care of yourself, okay? Are you coming to school tomorrow?" Of course I would else what will I be doing at home? Think myself to death? No, never.

"Yeah I will".

"Bye"

"Bye" we both said and hang up.

                    *****

Few minutes later..

What happened an hour ago was still a fresh wound in my mind. I couldn't help crying. I burst into fresh tears again. I miss my daddy!

 I cried loudly, careless if I was disturbing someone in the house. Just then my door creaked and Patricia, our househelp creeped in.

"Hey, Tiana is everything okay? I was heard you sobbing downstairs so I came to check on you"she said with a concerned look.

"I am fine thank you. I think I need to be alone"I replied coldly and she made attempt to leave as she was opening the door to leave, my mum entered.

Please someone should stop her from entering! She has come again with her preaching. I know what she wants to  do. I thought aloud. She wore a yellow short gown with no make up, she's always beautiful. With or without makeup.

My eyes trailed her as she bolted the door and turned to me. 

She came closer to me and sat beside my bed. She then breathed heavily before starting her speech.

"Tiana" she said calmly placing her hand gently on my thigh "I can't really explain how much you hate me right now but...it was not my fault I just I mean we just have to do that....."

without thinking about other people's feelings right? I thought aloud.

Whatever she planned to say,I needed  someone to  tell her it's not going to work on me. I opened my mouth to say it out but discarded the thought after on.

"You want to say something right?, Please say something to this"

I shook my head and she continued.

"There's no way to keep the marriage working when it has broken down already beyond amendment, and luckily enough both parties have discovered their real partners..." She said the last statement with a sheepish smile and shrugged off to say;

"So, let's everyone move on, life continues... So I want to go and do my last shoot for today, and I promise I'll be back before 12am. Bye" she said last planting a kiss on my forehead and left.

Patience Williams is a thirty-six year old entrepreneur, model and make up artist. After gaining fame in 2015 face of Nigeria, she settled down completely for modelling as a career. That was exactly when the problem started.

A Nigerian and few minutes ago became the former wife of George Femi Williams. She is weird and unpredictable, she is so good at pretending like she did just now and sometimes she sucks...argh!.

But to be honest, this lady is damn beautiful. She is beautiful,she is Patience Williams she is my mother.

Though I looked every bit like her, I wasn't like her I'm anyway. She's one of the hottest ladies in Lagos but I was just a naive girl in my school. She have a good shape of a model but I just have a normal teenage girl's body.

She's sassy but I was classic. She doesn't believe in love or friendship but I put my life on it.  We were sooo ironic in nature.

I stared at the ceiling and started thinking about tomorrow. Blake is going to talk to me tomorrow. Blake Anthony is the golden boy of Stockfield high. He's brilliant, cute looking, skillful, funny... name it!.  He's an  African American. He knows how to get what he wants.

I was somehow happy and relived that we'd be friends. He is choosy when he comes to picking friends. He moves with the high class. So.. I'm going to be one of his friends!

Ninety-nine point nine percent of Stockfield girls would do anything to get in his pants.

We never talked more than academics. Because we were ironic in nature. Nothing brings us together more than academics. But now.. Something more than academics.