We couldn't be more alike. How many girls like rap, and what are the chances that those few that do aren't crazy for bounce music.
By the lunch bell we are arguing fiercely. Subject matter:Who's doper between J.Cole and Eminem. Marshall Mathers can actually be rhymed with subject matter. Just look at that!
She disagrees though, says J.cole's is better. Talk about heart break.
"Oh my God, are you serious right now? Have you heard for your eyes only? Let nas down? Nothing lasts forever? Stay? Tears for ODB? "
She ticks her fingers off with each name—i shake my head at each.
Truth is i have never heard the name J.cole, and when i finally admit it, the way she looks at me you would think i just confessed to child molestation.
"Wait." She says "you are being serious right now? You haven't heard cole, like ever?.
She says it like i'm supposed to be ashamed.I am so not ashamed.&nb
The bell rang almost on cue, after Miss Bernice had embarrassed us all to her satisfaction, with the worst topic choice to revise: Oestrus Cycle.I have never seen a person's face turn as many shades of red as Chideziri's did, from terracotta to brownish red to copper and russet.Considering the number of "she's on heat" and "abi you are on heat period " i have heard within the last two seconds i think it's safe to say the class was very-very conversational. I don't have time to think more on it because Chidi slips his hand into mine underneath the desk where no one can see.When did he go from boy-girl to chidi? Effing beautiful boy. It's not right for someone to be so pretty, it breaks the laws of humanity. Like mixing Chadwick Boseman to Jacob Latimore.In his hand, mine looks like a little girl's; where mine are lean and long, his are broad with long immaculate fingernails lik
CHIDEZIRI"Can i hug you?"It's so out of the blue, but i am not even suprised. I think i am getting used to never getting used to her, not knowing what she'll say or do next. And i am liking the anticipation.AMANDAHis confident smirk is back on, baby face locked safely away,and i know he's about to be a smart ass."In this part of the world we don't ask that. We just spread our arms out and smile."CHIDEZIRIShe spread her arms out wide like a barney mascot at a kindergarten party and.... Boy! did she smile!AMANDAThat night, i stay up all through reading A.H Mohammeed's Forcados high school for what will be the five-hundredth time, and for the first time i vouch for Ansa.CHIDEZIRII stay up the whole night chasing J.cole songs around the internet. They a
Saturdays teach you how real life works.When you are a child, saturdays are like gorgeous puppies–beautiful, adorable, unforgettable. Then gradually, they morph along with you as you grow–into very un-adorable, un-hug-able, bleeding, black, over-sized rottweilers. Saturdays are the days you can't escape home, the days you work from eight to ten o'clock before you get a bite of food. The days you want to stop and ask if you really are a legit child or you were adopted. Pascal alway says i take life too gently. He says "You dey like to do your things soft-soft". When it comes to saturdays, he's right; I take them soft-soft, a step before another.I wake up to the sun glowering into my face. It actually seems pissed that i get to sleep in so late. I am tempted to stick my tongue out at it, Jealousy. It glowers even more. Tobi barges into the room at that instant and frowns at the grin on my face and my sprawled form. He always
The light has gone. It was replaced by huge clouds resembling iodine-soaked balls of cotton wool. Balls of cotton that eventually became rain, rain that's falling in drops the size of over-ripe mango fruits.We are at the dining room, sitting on the floor in the shadow of the massive opepe toned table. It's burnished surface gleams even in the dull light. Each of us has a bowl of G4 in hand. At least that is what Ahmed called it when he asked if i wanted to "partake". G4 turned out to be garri, full of more granulated sugar than i think is healthy with groundnuts floating in it." Watered cereal" Chantelle called it, either to make me feel better or to sound more American. I don't know which. Now, i can barely keep the watered cereal from going the wrong way in my body. Ahmed is in what i have come to know as his full blown crack-your-ribs-mode, and those of us who aren't in the process of laughing are half dead with laughter.
For the first time since the Abyss, since never, since thine kingdom come, Ahmed is clowning and i am not in on it. Being so close to Amanda is distracting. Intoxicating. She's shed her denim, and the homey scent of the outdoors after rain is directly in my face. Her body is warm in the sudden chill that accompanied the cloudburst, and pressed against mine it produces an electrifying feeling. It's like rapture came early and i made it to heaven. I managed to snake an arm around her back, slid it to her waist, almost to her hip before my courage burnt itself out. She pulls at the tail of a long cornrow and her scent wharfs over. Heady. Strong. Maddening.Lord have mercy.Now i am fairly positive any guy could turn stalker given the right woman. Like yesterday i was on that girls-are-for-little-boys kind of vibe. Now i am almost losing it, breathing in a body fragnance. I am so focused on her that i don't even notice when the semblance of
I scoot away a little bit and pull at the black band on my wrist. My ears are as hot as sizzling oil."So i listened to J.Cole." he says out of no-where."And?""He's not bad at all." he admits, albeit reluctantly."Not bad at all." I exclaim"He's so dope." We say at the same time and grin at each other."But i know you still won't admit he's better than Eminem, right?""Uh no. Capital letter N O. They are two entirey different people."I pretend to perceive a bad smell in the air and sniff at it. "What's that smell?""What smell, " he asks befuddled " i can't perceive anything.""Aha," i exclaim "i know that smell, it's the stench of defeat."He laughs, full teeth on display. There's a valley between the end of his nose and the top of his upper lip that i could lay my lie down for. I didn't realize that philtrums could be so attractive before now. Maybe they aren't. M
She kissed me then. No—she kisses me then, with her face sandwiched between my hands. The present is a better way to describe it.I am here in the now, in the present, not unsure of tomorrow, or trying to imagine i am Eragon or Frodo or Okonkwo. Her face is pressed against mine, so hard that it's a surprise her forehead doesn't melt into mine. Her fingers are soft against my nape. For once Deziri is speechless and i can't feel that ever-present, ever-terrified eight year old part of me lurking, trying to find an escape route from the present.For once the world i'm in is perfect enough.She made that world. She is that world.
He tastes just as pretty as he looks, like an undiscovered spice; untouched and exotic. My nose seems to like being so close to him too, it brushes against the end of his small button nose as if it's trying to say 'hi'. The love stories and the mills and boons tell you that people melt into a kiss, that your skin sizzles of your bones inflamed by passion.I don't know about that. I didn't melt. I didn't 'catch fire' as they always describe it.Nah. I just disintegrated. Disintegrated into tiny vulnerable bits that only exist in this world, tiny bits that only exist in these moments.I am nothingness. I am like the swooning wind, or like a hiking rivulet running its course through a green jungle. I am free. Floating in nothingness.I could exist only in this moment and be contented forever.Dripping love, bleeding love.If a second were