Falling For The Playboy

EVA

Omar would be so proud of me. 

I could literally hear his voice in my head saying; peek out of you shell once in a while, Eva. It's fun I swear. 

Today I had. And to be honest, I didn't know if the outcome was either a blessing or a curse.

Mrs Lawson's happy eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, the edges of her lips tilted up. 

I matched her smile. 

"Abi and Zoe are the same age as you. I can't wait for you to meet them. "

Well, that made the two of us. 

"I can't wait to meet them either. " I replied honestly. 

Abi and Zoe were twin girls and the only children of the Lawsons. I hadn't met them in person yet, of course, but I was pretty sure I knew more about them than any stranger had the right to. Because that's what I was, a stranger, contrary to what many people might believe. Yes, on paper, I wasn't really a stranger anymore. But to them, I very well might be, seeing as they knew next to nothing about me, other than my name —which there was a huge possibility might actually be fake but let's not talk about that. 

First meetings were notorious for being painful and awkward as hell. Each person didn't know what to expect of the other and whatever aspects of oneself a person showed on that day, was how the other viewed that person until proven otherwise. 

For the first time in a very long time, I found myself actually worried as to how people would see me. I wanted to meet up to their expectations of me —if they had any. To be honest, wondering how they would react to a stranger living in their home, admist all their private things, was beating me up more than the thought of my adjusting was. 

Thinking of having to start my life all over was killing me. Ergo...

Her eyes returned to her tab and I sighed out in relief. My smile dropped, my head lolling to the side as I resumed my task of idly watching the scenery as we passed. People going about their day, some looking happy, some quite forlorn, and others particularly hopeful as to what the day might offer. 

Learning about people's lifestyles was a hobby of mine, something Omar found odd. Well, Omar found a lot of things about me odd. He simply chalked up my interest in people's lives to mine being too boring. I wouldn't say he was right. But he wasn't wrong either. 

Writing was second nature to me and studying the the people around me was how I got my inspiration to write. So I guess he was right if he had been implying that if I had been interesting, I wouldn't have to study anyone but myself. But he was also wrong because everyone had their own story. My story might fill the pages of a book, but it wouldn't fill all the books in the world. 

Although, in spite of all the faults Omar found with me, he accepted me. Wholly. 

Omar.

Merely thinking his name brought a fresh pang of sadness to my heart. I missed him so much. From the moment I met him five years ago, it had been the both of us against everything in our own distorted little world. Until he'd gotten adopted a week ago, and I'd gone back to riding solo.

A smile crept up my face as I replayed the moment I first met him in my head. 

A twelve year old me had been heading to the store room in search of water at the exact same time he'd been sneaking back in. I'd wanted to scream bloody murder, but my body had been too occupied with saving itself from what could have been an unfortunate fall, to focus on transmitting that information to my brain. We'd bumped into each other, landed on our asses on the floor, then burst out laughing at ourselves. We hadn't even bothered getting up. There, on the store room floor, in the middle of the night, we bonded. He'd seemed honest, had a great sense of humor and my eyes hadn't seemed to freak him out like I'd expected them to. I'd felt at ease with him. 

Eventually, when we'd fallen silent and awkwardness had started to creep in, he'd said, "Will you be my best friend? "

I'd been so confused. Who asked someone they just met to be their best friend? It hadn't been my first time seeing him at the orphanage, but that had been the first ever conversation we had. 

I'd said yes anyway and that had been the beginning of Eva and Omar. 

Words couldn't express how sad I'd been when he delivered the news to me that he was getting adopted. I'd acted selfishly, mourning the loss of a friend that was still present, when I could have been celebrating with him. I cursed myself now that I thought about it because I knew if it had been the reverse, he would've been happy for me. 

Before he left, he'd made me promise that I would let myself get adopted. I made the promise despite how bizarre it sounded. As if I had a say in whether I was going to get adopted or not. 

It all seemed to me like a big prank when Mr. Ayo, the head of the orphanage, ordered me to pack my meagre belongings that I was getting adopted. I hadn't really had to work my magic or do anything of the like. I'd simply gone into the office, smiled at the occupants and poof, the next day, I was in an expensive car, heading to a new house where I would be living for the foreseeable future. 

Mr. Ayo hadn't been able to get rid of me fastly enough. The pretentious, money-grubbing old man had been all smiles with the couple, agreeing with whatever they said and had damn near pushed me into their car and out of the orphanage. That man made my stay there a living hell and it filled me with huge relief that I could confidently say I was never seeing him again. 

The car jerked as we passed over a pothole, the movement jolting me back to the present, making me aware of my surroundings. I tended to get lost in my head a lot, it was a little trick I did to escape my trash reality. Reality that was changing for the better, I hoped, thanks to the couple in front of me.

I found myself studying them. Again. 

If I were to describe my new foster parents in one word, it would be understated. Merely seeing them, one would think they were common people who had nothing to their name. I'd thought so too at first, too, even though I knew better than to judge people based on their appearances, and I'd been proven wrong when I actually got to know who they were. 

Mr Lawson wore a plain purple polo shirt paired with grey khakis, with a wristwatch adorning his left hand while his wife doned a straight, floor-length gown in burgundy red. Simple. Understated.

Would the twins like the same style?

Somehow I doubted that. I didn't know why. I just did. 

And I was assuming again. 

Sun caught the ring on Mrs Lawson's finger, drawing my attention to it and when I looked, I saw that they were actually two. Simple, beautiful, gold bands. Just like her. 

I remembered a girl from my class had said she believed that every relationship between a man and a woman, was done in the order; love, marriage then sex. I hadn't called her naive like I'd wanted to, I'd simply said to each his own. 

I mean, if the hiking number of pregnant teens hawking in the streets didn't tell her otherwise, then maybe I didn't live in the same world as her after all.

Mr and Mrs Lawson were definitely in love, I could tell. I knew how to get a good read on people, it was a gift. Like for instance, I could tell Mrs was a chatterbox, while her husband was more reserved. He hadn't uttered a single word since we entered the car, but I could tell he was at alert. 

The car slowed to a stop as we reached traffic and I sat up, looking out the window. Nothing about where we were was familiar. At all. If the three hours drive hadn't been enough to tell me we were very, very far from the orphanage, this did. 

I took in the sleek cars waiting in front and behind ours in line. The scenery alone was mind-blowing and enough for me to forget about my nagging hunger. The structures were so beautiful, the fresh green of the trees, refreshing and filling me with an odd feeling of happiness. 

My wandering eyes came to a halt as I realized what I was looking at. 

A. Bookstore.

And it looked like it was straight out of my dreams. 

The store had glass doors and windows that allowed me see little inside. I could tell people were milling around, no doubt surfing for books they wanted to buy. Two trees were positioned on either sides of the store, with benches resting on them. The place looked so peaceful, like a little book heaven, and I found myself wanting to be in there. 

"Can I visit this place sometime? " I found myself asking before I even realized my mouth had opened. 

I froze, shocked at my own audacity. I had just met these people. Why on earth had I thought asking them for something just today was a good idea? Well, I hadn't been thinking at all, that was for sure. 

Mrs Lawson looked surprised at my question. She glanced up and through her window —in the wrong direction, searching for the store I was talking about. 

"Where? " she asked, when she couldn't find it. 

I wondered if it was too late to back out now. How rude would it be if I zipped my mouth shut and acted like I hadn't said anything in the first place? Very, I supposed. 

Don't be a coward now, Eva. 

But when have I not been? A coward, I mean. I was too scared to go parties, wear clothes that actually suited me, make new friends and speak out in public, because I didn't want to bring attention of any kind to myself.

How much more cowardly could I get? 

But this wasn't the moment for me to point out my flaws. My foster mom was patiently staring at me, waiting for an answer and seeing as no one but me got myself into this uncomfortable situation, I was going to have to get myself out of it. 

"The store that sells books to your left. " I pointed at it, watching as she followed my finger. 

The earlier excitement I'd felt on seeing the store, had dissipated and was now replaced with a feeling of fear. Fear that one of them might say no and then the atmosphere would be awkward between us for the remainder of the journey. 

I blew out a breath when she faced me with a smile, "Of course. Abi could go with you if you want. "

"Thanks. " I smiled back at her, thankful that she was such a likeable person. 

"You like books? " her husband asked, speaking for the first time since the journey began.

So he had been paying attention to the conversation after all. 

"Yes. " I stated, but it sounded more like a question. I couldn't help but feel defensive whenever the topic of books came on. A lot of people found my obsession with books weird and I guess I expected the same annoying reaction from everybody. 

Mr Lawson smiled at me in the mirror but didn't say anything. 

It was his wife who said, "Oh, he loves books. " she explained, "He even has a library full of them at home. You should see it. It's every reader's dream. " she smiled fondly at her husband, the love in her eyes, unmistakable. 

I looked away, suddenly feeling like I was intruding on a private moment. Love was a confusing concept to me. It made me feel weird and I did my absolute best to stay as far away from that topic as I could. 

Back to books though, I wouldn't have guessed Mr Lawson was a fan. The fact that he had a library intrigued me. I'd always imagined having a mini library consisting of books of different genres that I loved. There would be more of romance, of course. I was a sucker for good romantic suspense. 

The car resumed it's descent, turning onto another road, with equally beautiful places. 

"Remind me to give you a key to the library when we get home. " he said. 

I nodded absently, because at the back of my mind, I knew I would do no such thing. If he wanted to give it to me, he would. I had never learnt to ask for things and I didn't see myself starting now. 

At the moment though, what captured  my attention, was the environment. It was amazing how this world was completely different than the one I was used to. It was all so wonderful.

I'd heard about people and how they seemed to connect with a certain state once they found it. I knew Abuja was that place for me. Back in Lagos, I'd always been out of breath trying to keep up with the fast life. Everyday had been more exhausting that the previous.

Now, however, this was a place I could live in. Beautiful trees, zero people, peaceful atmosphere. And sure it was more than a little odd that I hadn't seen a single person since we turned down this..... street? But I wasn't one to complain about odd. The odd life was mine. I lived it. Breathed it. 

We slowed to a stop in front of a huge black gate that looked like it had come out of a movie. Mr Lawson hurriedly got down from the car and walked towards the gate.

Shouldn't a house like this have a gateman or something? 

He swiveled right all of a sudden, moving away from the gate and going to stand in front of a brick wall. He pushed at the wall and slowly, the gates rolled open. 

What the–

"Is the control for the gate there? " I asked the one person sitting in the car with me. 

"Yes. "

But............. How? 

She must have seen the look of confusion on my face because she explained. "The gate has a code programmed in and everyone who lives here know it. Once you punch the right code in the keypad, the gates will open. If it's wrong, the gates will remain firmly shut. "

Amazing. Security here was tight as hell. I'd never seen anything like that other than on TV. This was new. Everything was new. 

Mr Lawson was back in the car like a flash and the minute he drove through, the gates slid closed. Just as I'd expected. How cool would it be living in a place like this? Burglars and kidnappers would be the least of your worries. Well, as long as you were inside. The thought of a person being stuck outside, having forgotten the code, with robbers on his tail, had me cracking up silently. 

Beyond the gates were rows of houses and I knew one of them had to be theirs. We stopped in front of another gate, which Mr repeated the same process for and in we rode. 

Mrs Lawson, having kept her tab, turned fully in her seat to face me, "Eva, this is your new home. "

And what a home it was. 

We drove between hedges of neatly trimmed flowers to the house she spoke of up ahead. From the view the car allowed me, I could see it was a magnificent two story building, far bigger than the whole orphanage put together. The house was painted in plain white and grey, the colours in pristine condition, which told me it had to be maintained regularly. 

We parked off to the side and alighted the car, with the couple, checking to see if they had everything with them, and me gripping my bag and desperately trying not to gawk at the house. 

In my circle, back at school, we'd all been from similar backgrounds. I didn't mean we were all orphans, no. We'd just had the average life. Same style houses and lifestyles, nothing out of the ordinary, but then again, my circle comprised few friends from my school. A public school. 

There, standing just outside the house, were the first signs of life I'd seen since I entered this place. Two people stood beside each other and from their poses, I could tell they were girls. The twins. 

I straightened, gripping my poor bag tighter as we walked. Mrs Lawson threw an arm around my shoulder easily. It was as if she'd sensed my unease. The difference in our height wasn't much, I noticed, she was maybe two or three inches taller than I was. 

It wasn't until we were just about six feet from the girls that I processed something Mrs Lawson said in the car a while back. When I told her about wanting to visit the shop, she'd said Abi could go with me. She hadn't said the twins or one of the girls. She'd simply said Abi. That was...... strange. 

Before I could ponder on that, we were already standing in front of said twins. 

"Abi, Zoe, this is Eva. " Mrs Lawson started cheerily by my side, oblivious to my inner turmoil, but then again, it was called inner for a reason, "I've told you all about her already, I'm sure getting along wouldn't be an issue. "

Oh, but it will be. 

"I'll see you in a bit, Eva, I just need to go change. " she said before her hand slid from my shoulders, leaving me feeling surprisingly cold under the hot afternoon sun.

I stifled a shiver. 

"They'll get you settled in. " Mr Lawson squeezed my shoulder lightly, before walking off with his wife, leaving me alone with people I wasn't so sure I wanted to be alone with. 

As I met the cold gazes of the twins, I kicked myself internally for being so stupid. 

Omar was wrong.

Peeking out of your shell wasn't fun.

It was dangerous. As hell.