Across the table she looked at me from time to time, making me to feel so self conscious that I did not even know what the food tasted like. I tried my best not to look at her often, but each time I risked a glance at her, I found her beautiful honey brown eyes fixed on me. I finally resolved to focus on the fufu and egusi I had before me, but I couldn’t still enjoy the food the way I wanted to.

Maybe it was because I still did not know why she had treated me—of all people—to lunch. Did she think that I was unable to feed myself? Yes, I've been sent out of exam halls a couple of times since our first year in school because I didn't pay the school fees on time, but that was not enough for her to assume that she was Jesus and I was the five thousand. I decided that that reason was too off the mark and tried to entertain another thought.

Did she need my help in her academics? I had to stem a bubble of laughter at that particular thought. If anyone needed my help with academics, it sure wasn't her. Chikwado Machie was one of the most brilliant girls I've ever come across. It was a given that if I ever missed a step in my academic race, she would be the best graduating student, a title I fought for with everything I had.

Why then did she take me out? I knew for a fact that she would never give anything for free. Rich people never did that. For people who had more money than God, nothing would always go for nothing. What could she possibly want from me?

"Don't you like your food?" she asked suddenly, "it's getting cold."

"Huh—I... uh... the food is wonderful. Thank you," I managed to say. I couldn't understand why I was so self conscious around her. Yes, we hardly talked in class, but I've always been able to talk to anyone regardless of his or her status. Anyone except her. She had the easy grace and confidence that only wealth could bring. It also didn't help that I was madly in love with her.

That last part was a source of constant pain and confusion for me. One one hand, I disliked her pompous and high-handed attitude; she was always going around in class, poking into people's businesses, asking for those who had financial problems and things like that. She was the perfect pretender—always acting as if she cared for her classmates, but I knew that she was secretly enjoying the pedestal life had placed her on.

Then on the other hand, I couldn't stop thinking about her oval face, her deep eyes that held untold secrets; I stared at her lips as she ate: they were sensual with the upper one slightly bigger than the lower one. I never thought I'd fancy a dark girl, but she was different; she seemed to glow and exude barely acknowledged sexuality. I guess part of my dislike of her was that I was way below her league, there was no way she could see me that way.

"I want you to marry me," from the heights of my reverie, I heard her say.


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https://www.thezenpens.com/2020/02/10/marriage-in-a-flash/