Mind Reader

Mind Reader

God! When Aunty Paula said that, I wanted to bury my head in the sand like an ostrich. But oh well, all is well. Whatever my mom might have done behind my back, I could see it was working in my favor. Cynthia kept blushing and stealing glances at me. At least now, both our moms knew we had a thing, and they seemed okay with it. Hmm… I’d say that’s progress.

"Okay, we should get going so we can be back early," Mom said.

We were taking Mom’s car. Oh, did I mention the car had finally arrived? Yeah, but she couldn’t use it to drive me to school since my school and her workplace were in completely different directions.

We all stood up and walked to the car. Aunty Paula escorted us outside, waving us off before heading back inside.

When we arrived at the venue, I immediately noticed it wasn’t a place for young people. The atmosphere was sophisticated, with a mature crowd filling the hall. But I wasn’t surprised. Mom had already told me it was a birthday party for one of her colleagues. She arranged a table for three, and we sat down. From the moment we settled in, I could feel eyes on us. It was like every head in the room had turned in our direction.

After a while, Mom excused herself to go and greet the celebrant, leaving just me and Cynthia at the table. We sat there, staring at each other and blushing.

God! She was so cute. And I was beyond glad she had agreed to come out with me tonight.

"You look really beautiful," I finally said, my voice filled with admiration. "And I love your gown. I’ve been waiting so long to tell you that. Thank you for coming with us tonight."

She smiled shyly. "Hmm… thanks for inviting me. But hey, what exactly did you tell your mom about us?"

I frowned slightly. "How do you mean? I didn’t tell her anything. Why? What did she say?"

Cynthia leaned in a little, lowering her voice. "She came over acting like she already knew we were dating. She told my mom that her son wanted his girlfriend to come to the dinner party with them. I was shocked when she actually called me your girlfriend. Then she even said it was supposed to be a date between the two of us."

I sighed. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. My mom had a way of getting into my business like that. But she really needed to stop reading my thoughts.

You see, before I met my dad, I used to think I got my ability—or should I say power—from Mom. But everything became clearer after my visit to AquaWorld.

Now I felt a bit annoyed knowing that Mom could still access my thoughts, even after warning me against accessing hers. She had told me it was rude to read people’s minds, and ever since, I had stopped doing it. Yeah, I could read thoughts. I used to think Mom could too because she always seemed to know exactly what was on my mind. In fact, I was convinced I had inherited the ability from her. But not too long ago, I realized she didn’t have the gift at all. It was just a mother’s intuition—her deep understanding of me—that made her seem like she did.

"Girlfriend?" I repeated, acting surprised. "She really called you my girlfriend? Ha! My mom can be funny sometimes. But honestly, we never discussed anything like that. Only she knows where she got that idea from."

Cynthia giggled. "Don’t worry, honey, I know you didn’t. But I have to admit—I love her. Yeah, I really love your mom. She’s such a nice lady."

As she said that, she placed her hands over mine, holding them gently.

We were still talking when Mom returned to the table, bringing along one of her colleagues—the celebrant.

The woman had heavy makeup on. She wasn’t exactly ugly, but her sense of style? A total disaster. Her black lipstick, ridiculously long eyelashes, and bright purple eyeshadow made her look… off. Then there was her outfit—a baby pink gown paired with a gold high-heeled shoe. The combination was just wrong. Thank God she was only a colleague and not Mom’s close friend.

"Here he is—the son I’ve been talking about!" Mom said cheerfully. "The one you all insisted on meeting."

The woman looked at me, then at my mom, in a way that made me feel uneasy. Her expression was unreadable, but something about it annoyed me. Without thinking, I reached into her thoughts.

And what I found there was uglier than her choice of makeup.

Her mind was a mess—like a rotten swamp filled with filth and bitterness. The things she was thinking made me sick.

"Hmm. No wonder. I knew it—the way she acts so high and mighty at the office. She must have been one of those girls who went abroad to sell their bodies. Then she comes back acting important just because she has an 'oyinbo' child."

I clenched my jaw.

"Hahaha! Look at her ‘trophy.’ This must be the grand souvenir she brought back from Italy. Well, she’s lucky—many of her kind return with HIV instead. Poor Mr. Onyeka. That fool has been single for years, refusing to pick a girlfriend from the staff. Now that she’s back, he’ll probably start chasing her. Hmm… God help him. He might just catch HIV from her. Stupid man."

My grip on the table tightened.

This woman had just met me, and she was already making such disgusting assumptions about my mother?

I felt a wave of anger rise inside me. I wanted to say something—anything—to put her in her place. But I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

Mom didn’t deserve this. She had worked hard to build a life for us, and here was this bitter, judgmental woman, reducing her to nothing but gossip and false assumptions.

I glanced at Cynthia. She was completely unaware of what was going through my mind. She just sat there, smiling softly, her fingers still resting on mine.

I took another deep breath.

No. I wouldn’t let this woman ruin my night.

She wasn’t worth it.