Episode 6


Never love something so much that you can’t let go of it.
—Ginni Rometty


Gio was beginning to feel rage as the lecturer talked on. He couldn't understand a da*n word the French mathematician was saying. Oh, how he hated these borrowed courses! He would have been done with the course the previous year but the school authorities had still been in search of a suitable lecturer then. Now he had to do it with Third Year Computer Science and Engineering students.


He viewed the large engineering classroom and discovered a lot of people weren't even listening. Tosin who was seated beside him was drawing 'The X-Men' at the back of his notebook. Gio groaned inwardly as frustration began to set in. It was a three-credit-load course and he couldn't jot a da*n thing because he couldn't understand anything. At the introduction of the course, he'd barely even heard the Frenchman's name but hoped by the second class, he would have adapted to his thick accent but this was their third lesson yet his ears and brain ached from trying so hard to hear and piece the words together. It was laughable. He who could understand even the most native of the Italian language couldn't understand a French lecturer.


Gio didn't usually care what his lecturers put on especially the females but he was so irritated, he didn't know when he started sizing up Professor Laroche. His angry gaze fell on the middle-aged man who'd tinted his curly hair ash blond and was dressed as if he fell out of a sixties magazine. He had on a red and brown checkered suit with the trousers flared. His shoes were so pointed, cops could present it as exhibit in a murder case as the weapon used for the killing. He was indeed a mathematician, probably eccentric too.


Imagine! The man was actually asking if anyone had a question. Like seriously? After talking to himself for about an hour?


"Yeah! Would it be too much to ask for you to have surgery done on your vocal cords to have your thick accent removed?" Gio felt like asking.


He was however shocked beyond words when he heard a sweet voice saying, 


"Excuse me, sir."


He craned his neck backwards in the direction of the voice. She asked an intelligent question no doubt because Professor Laroche smiled and made to answer it on the white marker board.


Gio couldn't help staring at the bespectacled chocolate-skinned girl. She wasn't beautiful in the classic sense of the world and obviously had a poor taste in clothes if the multi-coloured blouse she had on was anything to go by but he wasn't interested in her physical features. He marveled at what she had inside her brain. Funny, she didn't even realize he was staring at her; she was listening intently to the lecturer but the girls around her were staring and smiling at him. He could bet his life that some of them were there just because of him.


Gio forced himself to tear his eyes off her and turned to listen to the man but he found himself turning back to stare at her again when she asked another question.


He turned to look at the professor. He couldn't help the smile that lit up his handsome face. She was definitely brilliant!


**********


Nkiru was surprised when girls flooded her seat after their Algorithm lecture. She removed her glasses and put it back in its cheap case. They were only for reading and writing. 


She huffed in exasperation. Would these silly girls please leave her alone? She had a lot to catch up on before her next tutorial. This was a difficult course for her and she hated having to leave the comfort of their Computer Lab where they had their lectures to come to the engineering department to have this particular lecture with mathematics and engineering students because the class was the largest in the science and technology faculty.


She didn't have the time to know if and why Gio had stared at her not once but twice and ended up smiling. It was his business. She didn't give a rat's a**about it. Had he even been in the class? She hastily told them she had another lecture and left them murmuring.

Emmykul4love:
Everybody come and see ooooooooooo,mummy and daddy come and see ooooooooo,uncles and aunty come and see oooooooooooo,brothers and sisters come and see oooooooooooonoo,girlfriends and sidechick come and see ooooooooooooooo that lady that always got me busy with my phone every now and day on nairaland. She is back again with another mind blowing,breath taking story called "LETTING GO". Who am I talking about,is no other person than the one and only AUDREY TIMMS. Barman give me one 1759 and some popcorn mixed with kulikuli and one alomo.

Lol. It's origin I want. Thanks dear

BlizzydoDo:
I'm sooo happy 2day z Wednesday & its all becos of yuu.

Really? That's nice.

chii8:
Waoo....nice,thanks op
the story is jst startn but am beginning to hate Jessica,she is a leech bitcha

Lol. Yes, she is.

Bamilizy:
I no go carry last dis time around.weldone audrey.

Thanks dear

phebean008:
Yippee!!! My Bae is back...Oya na, let's go there! following u bumper to bumper...

Yes o. Let's go

jaybiz007:
AudreyTimms is finally back!!! Yagaa.

Yes o.

ADUKKY:
Audrey is back

Yes o

timpaker:
She's back!

Yippee

**********

The atmosphere was windy. Dry leaves ran after one another as if in a marathon, trees danced to soundless music, goats bleated for their kids and hens ran home as if they were being chased by the wind. But the couple underneath the fruitless mango tree which was shedding its dry leaves, were impervious to happenings around them. They were giggling like teenagers and feeding each other bits of roasted plantain from the plate on the stool before them. Intermittently, they also sipped from their fruit juice.

Felix, who'd had his gaze fixed on his parents for about a quarter of an hour from his window gave out a long hiss. Ever since his father came back home two days ago, his mother had been all over him like a rash. Granted, she had missed him terribly but he felt she should have asked why his dad had spent an extra week in Abuja. Sheer will stopped him from matching over there to punch his father's light out. He felt like putting his hands around the robust throat of his father and squeezing until the man confessed where he'd been and with whom. But he'd be hurting his mother. She could be a pain in the neck especially concerning his frivoulous ways but she was a good woman and he loved her to bits.

He pushed back the crimson red and blue silk curtain and turned from the window. His gaze roved restlessly around his neatly kept room and paused on a speck of dirt on his television set. Without thinking twice, he located his cleaning rag and wiped the offending piece off his electronic. He abhorred dirt and disordliness. His skin always felt itchy and as if worms were crawling over it whenever he entered a dirty and scattered room. If it wasn't his place to put the room in order, he left there in a hurry, otherwise he tried his best to put a semblance of order to the place. Little wonder he avoided some lecturer's offices and friends' rooms as if they were diseased.

Felix moved about restlessly in his well-equipped room. He was bone-tired of staying at home all day. The federal government and ASUU were still fighting World War III over unpaid dues and illegitimate sacking of lecturers. He couldn't care less. The fear of God drilled into him by his mother stopped him from going to slap his father. Why would his father, after spending so many years in the city decide to relocate to the driest village on earth- Ubiaja in Esan South East LGA of Edo state? He'd been trying to come to terms with it since they moved down here two years ago. The change was definitely cramping his style. He would have gotten a temporary job by now to while away his time had they still been in Lagos. It wasn't as if his dad was that old to retire to the village to do nothing but chase little girls all day. Something must have happened to chase him from Lagos. There had been no plan in the pipeline of ever coming to the village. His dad had just woken up one morning and decided they were going to the village, much to his chagrin. His mother had been all up for the idea, willing to take an early retirement from her job in the ministry of agriculture. He'd tried to garner the support of his sisters both based in Port Harcourt with their families to stop the retrogressive act but had failed. His sisters felt it was a good decision. They felt their parents ought to go to the village and rest after their years of service, seeing that their dad had retired from the ministry of finance two years before.

At first, he had felt like a fish out of water when he came home for hols after his first session in the university but with time, he realized there were quite a number of people who attended the same university as well in the village. He became friends with some of the guys and discovered the village wasn't really the backwater he'd thought it was, though there were still lacking a number of things. They had good spots where one could hang out to drink, play snooker and have fun. His favorite past time turned out to be relaxing on the back pews of the Saint Benedict Catholic church in the village to watch girls with different shapes, colors and sizes troop back to their seats during offertory. With his eyes, he looked for his next lay and frowned in disgust at the girls he'd slept with, particularly the ones who were poor in bed. His mother became surprised that he'd become such a church-loving person until she sat behind him without his knowledge during 9am mass which he favored and heard him and his friends discussing the female students of a particular boarding house. She'd almost nagged him to death when they got home. In the heat of the moment, he'd angrily told her to go and work for Jack Bauer of the 24 series since she'd turned herself into a spy to monitor his life. That had earned him a slap. From then onwards, she sat wherever he sat during mass no matter how many times he changed his seat but when he wasn't around, she attended her heart's choice which was the 6am mass with his father. Invariably, whenever he came home for hols, he looked for excuses in order not to go to church. When she decided to stop going to church because of him, he started attending the 6am mass where he discovered to his delight that beautiful girls also attended the early morning mass. He even joined the church wardens in order to pass notes to girls on their next meeting point if the girl in question didn't have a phone or it was faulty. His mother became happy with him and encouraged him the more not knowing there was a method to his madness.

He heard raised voices all of a sudden and rushed to the window to fling back the curtain. What he saw made him double over in laughter. His mother had in her hands half of the pale yellow mini dress of a fat girl, exposing her big stomach, keloids and g-string for all and sundry to see. His father was trying his best to stop his eyes from wandering to the voluptuous sight while Baba Johnson was having a field day staring intently at the girl's buttocks. The girl shouldn't have worn such a short dress which actually made her look like a baby elephant. After a foolish deed comes remorse.

His mother continued reigning abuses on her, accusing her of being among the sluts leading her son astray. The poor girl kept trying to remove her dress from the furious woman's hands while begging her to leave her alone. It took the intervention of his father to get his wife to leave the girl's dress. Even at that, she removed her slippers and drew them after the girl who ran towards the gate the second she was released.

Felix tried to dredge up pity for the girl but couldn't. She'd probably thought his mother had gone to her Sacred Heart of Jesus and Immaculate Heart of Mary Society meeting in church. She didn't know his mum had decided not to go to church because she was still basking in the euphoria of her hisband's return as if he were the biblical prodigal son. He'd told her countless times to leave him alone and to stop visiting. He just wasn't into fat girls. He loved his girls slim and sexy. It is Mr. Old-Man-Monkey who marries Mrs. Old-Woman-Monkey for Christ's sakes! He however didn't reject her gifts. Heck, there was no need cutting his nose to spite his face.

When he heard his mum yelling his name and walking angrily towards the house from the gate, he rapidly pushed back the curtain and jumped on his bed. He covered himself wth his colourful wrapper and pretended to be fast asleep. He was even ready to hold his breath for minutes and form death had come for him just to escape a row with the woman who wanted to vent her fury on poor, innocent him.

If you are in hiding, don’t light a fire.

*To be continued on Wednesday*

Thanking You.

Episode 5

"So we'll stop here tonight. We'll continue next tomorrow," Nkiru told her course mates.

"Thank God! I was already tired." Brenda stood up and stretched like a cat while the others gathered their books and left. Brenda gave Nkiru her tutorial fee for the month and left.

Nkiru counted the money and smiled. She raised it up to heaven and thanked God. 

She had just had private lectures with her fellow course mates whom she taught three times a week after dinner. Since God had blessed her with a brain which assimilated things quickly and easily, she used it to her advantage. Some of these rich kids were pretty dumb and needed extra help with their courses despite their proficient lecturers. When Brenda had first approached her, it had been free of charge but Brenda had told her friends about how good she was at teaching and eventually encouraged her to collect fees. The money she made from her tutorials enabled her to manage without calling home for money.

She put away her glasses and books, and arranged her clothes and things for lectures the next day. The young lady loved getting her ducks in a row. She wondered where Hassana was when she was through. Hassana didn't value education one bit. She was in school just because her father wanted his daughters to be graduates before giving them out in marriage.

Nkechi wondered for the umpteenth time how she would feel in Hassana's shoes already knowing to whom she'd be married to at the young age of fifteen. She didn't have a boyfriend, though it wasn't from lack of proposals; it was just that she wanted to concentrate on her studies knowing she was on scholarship which could be withdrawn anytime if her grades dropped. She didn't want that sort of distraction despite the fact that she liked a guy in her department who had been trying to get her to date him. Nkiru had been surprised at his proposal at first, believing he was only trying to prank her because some rich kids could be pretty mean and mischeivous at times, but with time she realized he was serious. Nimyel wasn't adverse to her way of dressing. He liked brilliant girls. She'd firmly told him she wasn't interested so they'd remained friends.

She unplugged her mobile phone from it's charger and checked to see if she had enough airtime to call her mother. It was sufficient so she made the call.

"Hello Mummy, ndewo (good evening)," she greeted, smiling.

"Oga diri gi nwa mu. Onyekusi (student), kedu ka odi? (How are you?)"

"Odi mma (I'm fine), Mummy. How's everything?"

"Fine, my dear. We thank God."

"What of Daddy?"

"He's fine. He's sleeping."

"Sleeping? At this time of the day?" She was surprised because her dad wasn't an early bird.

"He's tired. He harvested yams from his farm today with his workers and they had to take them to the market."

"OK. I hope it was a bountiful harvest?"

"It was. We thank God. We have enough yams to last us for a whole month."

"What of your shop? I hope sales are good."

Her mother sighed. "Hmm...my dear, everything is in the hands of God. Some days are good while others poor."

"It is well, Mummy. How are the others?"

"They are all fine. Nkechi is doing well with her saloon. Nwadiuto and Nwaibiakpo are still at home because of the strike but they help your dad in the farm. Njideka has gone into tailoring pending when her results will come out. She's learning under Mama Emeka."

"OK. It's better than staying at home. What of Nnamdi? Have you heard from him lately?"

"Yes. He sent us some money last week. His shop in Aba is doing pretty well."

"We thank God. I'll try to call him tomorrow." She smiled happily because her elder brother had gone through hell before things stabilized for him.

"Please do that. How is everything there? Hope they're treating you well there and I hope you're coping with your studies."

"Everything is fine, Mummy."

"I don't have to remind you why you're there, my child. How I wish your twin brothers had your kind of brain, they would have been there with you on scholarship now, not at home with us but we thank God for everything. Focus on your studies and make us proud."

"I will, Mummy. Thanks Ma."

"Remember, he who thinks he is leading and has no one following him is only taking a walk. Your younger ones are looking up to you. I'll call you next week to check on you. Greet your friend, Hassana for me."

"I'll do that. Good night, Mummy."

"Ka chi fo, my dear. Sleep well. God bless you."

Nkiru ended the call and sat down. She missed home. She missed her family. As she began to reminisce, tears came to her eyes.

Her father had been rich at a point in time. Things had been going well for them. Her mother had owned a big supermarket and her dad had owned three shops in Alaba international market in Lagos where he sold electronics. She and her five siblings had never lacked anything. They had attended the best schools and had the best things in life until their world came crashing down. Her mum's supermarket stopped making much money due to a newly-opened, bigger and better supermarket two blocks away. Later on, half of her mum's goods got stolen. One of her dad's shop caught fire mysteriously, the second was vandalized and the goods carted away. They tried surviving on that one remaining shop but things became difficult for them. She and her elder brother, Nnamdi had to stop schooling then because her dad couldn't pay their expensive school fees anymore. Nnamdi opted to go and learn a trade under a kind relative while she was determined to finish secondary school education. She would collect notes from their neighbor's children to copy and read. Paying for her JAMB, WAEC and NECO registration had been a tug of war. She had resulted to hawking with her immediate younger sister, Nkechi while her twin brothers and youngest sister helped their mother in her supermarket since she had to let go her sales girls because she couldn't pay them their salaries anymore. 

After her exams, they had relocated to their village, Ugbeke in Amiri of Oru East LGA in Imo state after their landlord had thrown their belongings out of their house and her parents had sold off the remaining things in their shops. Her dad had gone into farming on the land his father had left him while her mum had opened a small provision shop in front of their house. 

She remembered the ridicule they had experienced in the hands of the villagers and shook her head. People they had helped whenever they visited the village had turn their backs on them and only a few had sympathized with them and helped them. Her getting the scholarship had been like a mountain lifted off her dad's shoulders because he'd been trying to decide whether to use the last of his savings to further her education since he shared her passion with education or adding it to the money Nnamdi's master wanted to give him to set up his own shop in Aba. Unfortunately, her twin brothers hadn't passed the scholarship exams but had both gained admission into Oko Polytechnic in Anambra State. Nkechi, her immediate younger sister had opted to help a neighbor with her saloon before opening her own. She wasn't formal education-minded like her elder brother.

"Nk, what's wrong? Mene?" Her roommate with a stunned expression on her face asked by the door.

Nkiru was jolted out of her reverie as Hassana came to sit beside her on the bed.

"Why are you crying?" Hassana was clearly worried.

Nkiru wiped her tears with her hands.

"Nothing jare. I was just reminiscing." She sniffed.

"Reminiscing what?" Her friend's interest was piqued.

Nkiru smiled a little. "The good old days."

"Haba! I've told you things will get better. Inshallah!" Hassana put her arm around her friend.

"I know." Nkiru sniffed again. "Where have you been?"

Hassana got up and smiled. She removed her black hijab to reveal her dark and silky cornrows and threw it on her bed. Her blue denim trousers and sky blue blouse screamed of exotic taste.

"I got to find out where Gio reads at night. I sat close to him and drew him." She smiled with pleasure, and walked to the door where she had dropped her hand bag and removed a sketch pad from inside it. She flipped the pages and showed her roommate her latest addition.

Nkiru smiled in admiration. Indeed, he who does not know one thing knows another. Hassana was a gifted artist. She felt Hassana was wasting her talent studying only Linguistics when she could have minored in Fine Art. 

Nkiru marveled at the sketch of the handsome guy who had his head hung, his eyes in deep concentration on whatever he was solving with a pen in his strong hand. "Wow! You've even made him more handsome." Her friend had drawn her crush with a fine-tooth comb.

"Aha! You've finally admitted that he's handsome!" Hassana said with glee. She was chuffed to bits.

Nkiru shrugged. "I've never denied his handsomeness, just that I've never seen it as a criteria to chase him. I'm all up for what a guy has upstairs than his physique."

"He's also very brilliant. FYI, he's heading his class in terms of grades," her roommate put in as a matter of fact.

"I'm happy for him," Nkiru sarcastically told her friend and yawned. "I don tire. Make I sleep. I have an 8am lecture tomorrow."

"You're such a bookworm!" Her roommate hissed and took the sketch pad from her. She put on the television. "Let me see what's up with Keeping Up With The Kardashians."

"I'm going to take my bath," Nkiru informed her friend who was already seated in front of the television viewing the E! channel on DSTV.

Nkiru never failed to marvel at the luxuries she enjoyed in school which were lacking in her home. She had a bed to herself, a wardrobe, a book shelf and a reading table and chair, not to talk of a spacious room and a standard bathroom she shared with only her roommate. They even had a plasma television in the room connected to DSTV, though it was controlled. It was put off from the central point from 8am to 2pm in order for students to attend lectures and not laze about in the comfort of their rooms watching TV all day. It was no wonder their fees were very expensive and the scholarship given biannually. She had had to save to get a cheap laptop unlike the others who had been given one upon paying their school fees. That and the fact that she bought the least expensive food in the school's restaurants--since they weren't allowed to cook--and her cheap clothes made it obvious she was a scholarship student not to talk of her tutorials. 

She didn't mind one bit that some of the rich girls mocked her. She was grateful to God for the ones who didn't and made her their friends especially her roommate, Hassana. Hassana was generous to a fault. She would always insist on paying for her food but after a while, Nkiru began dodging her whenever she wanted to go and eat. She didn't want to be a charity case forever. Hassana however bought her goodies from the school's departmental store.

She finished her bath and entered the room. She went to the wardrobe to bring out a night gown. She had no idea Hassana was staring at her with pity.

The Hausa girl longed to buy stuff for Nkiru but her roommate always refused. The towel tied around her chest was yellow with age. She'd rejected the bright pink one she'd gotten her on resumption that term. The night gown was something else. Hassana wondered how she'd get such a dear friend to accept gifts from her.

She rose after flicking off the television. "I feel like a nightcap. I'm going to get myself a cup of hot cocoa in the cafe. Want one?"

"No, thanks," Nkiru said as she brought out her prayer book to say her night prayers.

Hassana moved towards the door after picking her hijab from her bed. "Okey dokey,"

"Good night, Hassana."

"Sai de safe, Nk."

CHAPTER TWO

Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go.
—Hermann Hesse

Episode 4 of Letting Go

GIOVANNI Ekwe mused as he walked to his room from the lecture hall. 

"Gosh! I miss my car. While walking is good for the body, driving my car would have stopped me from seeing these shameless girls hanging around me," he muttered underneath his breath. "Had it not been for those drunken b*stards trying to enact a live scenario of 'Fast and Furious' in the campus, cars wouldn't have been banned and I would be cruising to my room right now." He fumed.

"Gio, what's up?" Two girls greeted him but he ignored them and walked on. They hissed and walked past him. Gio continued ignoring the girls who greeted him but responded to the guys.

It was quite a distance from the lecture halls to the boys' hostels but Gio wasn't deterred. He made the journey everyday since the time cars were banned and he'd had to return his twenty-first year birthday gift from his dad back home-- a Toyota Camry Hybrid. A student had seriously gotten hurt when a group of boys decided to race down the smooth road to their hostels. Coupled with other near misses, the school authority had put their feet down in a meeting and an unanimous vote of stopping the students from driving cars in the school had been taken. Alternatively, shuttles had been provided to transport the students around the school. Gio had grudgingly started using the shuttles until he noticed that silly girls always found a way to sit beside him and try to chat him up. He'd made the decision of walking the long distance to his hostel when two sickos who called themselves ladies had quarreled bitterly over who would sit beside him in the shuttle. Guys had been amused and some had even sang his praises but he'd been clearly disgusted. He had been glad to notice that some of the girls had been irritated at the show of shame by their sex. There was still hope for the female race.

He finally got to the block of buildings which housed the male students and walked to his own room on the second floor. There were about four more of such four-storeyed buildings for the male students. His roommate, Tosin Oladimeji, the son of a billionaire shipping magnate, smiled as he entered the room. Tosin, with ample flesh on his body but couldn't be called fat was all of six feet with a dark skin and striking features. Girls actually drooled when he smiled, revealing a beautiful set of teeth with a gap tooth. He walked with a limp due to an accident he had as a child but he had perfected the act of walking with it, that only very observant and meticulous people would notice it. Most people thought he was just one of those guys who walked with abnormal gaits all in the name of feeling funky. He was as noisy as Gio was quiet. Gio tolerated his loquacious ways while Tosin tolerated the former's mood swings. They didn't have the best relationship in the world but they were pretty good friends.

Gio dropped his backpack containing his laptop and books on his reading table beside the book shelf and went into the bathroom to pee without saying a word to his roommate. He walked back into the room after taking a leak and zipped up his Gucci trousers. He sauntered to the mini-refrigerator which was in every room in the hostels to get himself a drink. He walked back to his bed to sit after taking a gulp from the canned coke and cast dark eyes filled with fury on his closest friend.

Tosin smiled, aware of the cause of his friend's ire. The wrapped parcel he was holding in his hands, which he had just received on his roommate's behalf.

"This just came in for you," Tosin informed his friend, smiling. He lifted the parcel to his ear and shook it. "I wonder what it is this time around." 

Gio strode to his friend, grabbed the parcel and made a nice shot with it at their waste bin. The weight of the parcel was however too much for the waste bin so it toppled over.

"What did you do that for? It could be a mobile phone," Tosin joked.

Gio finished his drink and tossed the can at the toppled waste bin also but the can bounced off towards his wardrobe. He grimaced and went to right the bin. He removed the parcel and dropped the empty can in it.

With a stern look on his face, he said, "Tosin, I've told you countless times to stop collecting parcels from dumb girls on my behalf. You know I don't like such things. Now, what am I going to do with this?"

Tosin laughed heartily. "It wasn't my fault this time around. Chuks in Room 20 brought it. A gift from his cousin."

Gio groaned.

"Do you know his cousin?" Tosin asked.

"Nope. Don't care to know. Why can't they all leave me alone?" He was at his thether's end.

His roommate chuckled. "Ah...lemme see." Tosin pretended to think and rubbed his hand across his clean-shaven jaw. "You're the son of a senator, you're rich...not to mention drop dead gorgeous...an Italian citizen...yes, hot cake and hard to get also. Put all that together and what girl wouldn't lose her head over you?"

Gio threw up his hands in exasperation. "You're incorrigible."

He walked to the door and opened it. He thrust the parcel into the unsuspecting hands of the first guy who came along and told him to keep it. It was already a known fact in the male hostels that Gio received numerous gifts from girls and gave them out also. 

He breathed a sigh of relief and went to lie on his bed with his hands folded behind his head. He stared at the ceiling.

Tosin studied his friend intently and wondered for the umpteenth time what made him tick. Gio was naturally cold to people, with an exception of his family and friends; the few ones he had. They had been friends since their first year in the university owing to the fact that they had been placed in the same room and were coursemates. They were in their third year yet he still didn't understand his friend. He didn't even understand the pull he had with girls because left for him, had he been a girl, he would have avoided Gio like a plague yet girls still chased him. It was amazing! He couldn't complain about that though because he had a number of girls who had drawn close to him in an effort to get him to talk to Gio on their behalf and they were willing to do anything, anything just to get him. 

It was unfortunate the school authorities didn't allow males to visit the girls in their hostels and vice versa, else he would have been a regular visitor there. Even leaving the school wasn't allowed without informing the school authorities. And permission to leave the school was only granted on emergencies. It however had not been like that at the inception of the school. Students usually did what made the school authorites ban things or cage them. At first, one was free to come and go as he or she pleased but students took advantage of that by going to Owerri to hold wild parties and get into trouble with the law. The school authorities had to be called a number of times to bail their students from police stations. As if that wasn't bad enough, students started getting missing. After a parent sued the school for millions of naira for his missing daughter, the school put its foot down and locked the students in. Now leaving the school was at the consent of both the school authorities and the parents. Even visiting of opposite-sex hostels had been banned because of rape incidents and orgies. The raging hormones of the youths were usually hard to contain. The school however provided every luxury or attraction that was outside the school for the students in the wide expanse of land. They had cinemas, restaurants, gyms, sports centres, picnic fields, to name a few, just to stop the students from longing for pleasures of the outside world. They were allowed birthday parties and the likes and at the end of every session, they held concerts where famous artists were invited to entertain them. But students being students; they still complained bitterly about their lack of freedom of movement. However, they found a way to let off steam when they wanted to. There were a lot of hidden places in the school. 

Tosin smiled as he remembered the rendezvous he had planned that night with a first year student. They were the most desperate and he capitalized on it.

His musings came to a stop when he heard Gio murmuring. He gazed at his friend intently. Gio was fond of talking to himself. When he had first noticed it, it had been pretty scary and had thought Gio had gone off his rocker but he eventually got used to it. Whenever he asked him why he always talked to himself, his roommate always denied it. He never had the nerve to press on because Gio could shut down on anyone in a matter of seconds or cut someone dead with a single word. Tosin felt he had to take the risk though and if Gio turned cold, he would go to their neighbour's room until the latter cooled down or better put, warmed up.

"Gio," he began after clearing his throat.

Only Gio's eyes moved to look at him.

"I've asked you this question a number of times but always receive unsatisfactory answers. This time around, I want the truth. Why...why do you talk to yourself?"

Gio looked at him as if he was going bananas, then he smiled.

"I don't talk to myself," came the noiseless reply.

"You do! I noticed it since our first year here." Tosin insisted.

Gio smiled charmingly. "Tosin, I don't talk to myself."

"Really? But you were doing exactly that a minute ago," Tosin pressed.

Gio sighed conceedingly and sat up on the bed to study his friend coolly.

Wasn't it high time he told his friend the truth? Gio asked himself. Would Tosin understand? Wouldn't he brand him insane? Was he mature enough to handle the truth? In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I don't talk to myself. I talk to Giordano."

Tosin froze.

"But...but...Dano is dead."

Gio nodded slowly. He knew Tosin wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand the fact that he saw, spoke to and listened to his twin's ghost. How would he explain to his friend that Dano wasn't dead to him because he'd been communicating with him even before he was laid to rest? And while the doctors thought he had a case of Schizophrenia, he was really talking to his dead brother and had done so for the past four years.

His countenance changed. He was saddened by the fact that after three years of friendship with his roommate, he couldn't share his darkest secret with him. The last time he had shared his secret with anyone, he'd found himself locked up in a pychiatric hospital for a year.

Gio lifted a shoulder. "At the risk of sounding like a nut case, I talk to him as if he were alive. It's the only thing that keeps me sane in this crazy world."

Tosin breathed out in relief. He didn't want to be the one to call Gio's father to inform him his son had serious psychological issues.

Gio stared at his friend. He was glad he had chosen his words carefully. Tosin would really have freaked out had he told him the truth.

"You scared me for a minute there." Tosin laughed with unease. "I thought you meant you actually communicate with Dano. Thank God you only conjure him in your mind and talk to him...but is that healthy? Isn't that like living in an imaginary world? How do you differentiate between imagination and reality?"

Gio laid on the bed again. 

"I only talk to him when I'm alone. Sometimes I want to talk to him in public but the fear of being tagged crazy stops us...I mean me. Though I'm beginning to think it might be a good idea, to get those girls off my back. Loony boy equals runaway girls." He chuckled.

Tosin laughed. "Please don't do that. I wouldn't want to have to request to be moved to another room. We have been living amicably since we came to this school."

"Yep, and you've enjoyed a fair share of girls trying to get me," Gio said, tongue in cheek.

Tosin grinned and shrugged nonchalantly. "You can't blame me for that though."

Gio stared at the ceiling.

Tosin cleared his throat. "I've been thinking. Why don't you just accept one of those bimbos as your girlfriend? The rest will definitely back off."

His roommate dealt him an incredulous glance. "Are you for serious?" Tosin shrugged with a silly look on his face. Gio frowned. "I'm not interested in a relationship right now. Besides, they'd only look for ways to split us. I don't have the time nor patience for that kinda drama, cat fights and all that shi*t."

"Suit yourself but I think--" Tosin was cut off as they heard a commotion outside. 

Tosin sprang up, rushed to the door and went out while Gio took his IPhone 3GS to play a game. Tosin came back awhile later shaking his head and laughing like a guy who'd just been entertained by Basketmouth.

"These snooty rich kids are pretty hilarious." He sat down heavily on the bed and his six-foot frame shook with mirth. He knew not to waste his time waiting for Gio to ask him what the commotion was all about because the latter wasn't a tad interested in gossip. So he volunteered the info willingly.

"It was that same Chuks who brought that gift and his roommate fighting. You can't begin to fathom what caused the fight. They were discussing the latest Forbes list of richest men in the world when they started arguing. The argument later changed to their fathers; who is richer? That was what caused the fight. They have both been taken to the clinic 'cause blood flowed. Fortunately, no one called security. They would have been in deep sh*t by now."

Gio scoffed. "Fools! Arguing about their dad's wealth. Pitiful! That's the height of stupidity. If their dads were to go bankrupt now, what next? That's one of the reasons I hate this school. It's a total waste of time for some people here. They are just here to get a degree; then they'd go back home to sit on their a**es all day to wait for their fathers' death to inherit millions. They do not teach us to be self-made millionaires!"

Tosin was astounded at his friend's outburst. Gio usually took the silent way out, often shrugging annoyingly. He had expected such a usual reply not an outburst.

"Wow!" Tosin said. "I hope you haven't categorized me among those people."

Gio moved his eyes from the game and surveyed his friend steadily. You must judge a man by the work of his hands.

"Aren't you planning on joining your dad's shipping company after your youth service?"

Tosin became defensive. 

"Yes! What's wrong with that?" He intoned coldly.

Gio shrugged. "Nothing. As far as you don't change your mind and sit all day at home waiting for his death and will. But tell me something though," Gio sat up. "Why are you here studying mathematics?"

"Beacuse I love mathematics. It's my passion," Tosin slammed back at him with angry emphasis.

Gio's shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. "OK. So what has mathematics got to do with your father's company?"

Tosin was disconcerted for a minute. "I plan on being his Company Accountant."

"You should have gone into applied mathematics like me or accountancy."

"You're just saying this because your dad is a senator not a buisnessman," Tosin countered impatiently.

Gio's gorgeous mouth quirked. "Had my dad been Bill Gates, I would still strive to make a name for myself; be greater than my father. I intend letting my freak flag fly instead of sailing through life."

Tosin nodded in understanding. "I can take my dad's company to heights it has never been with new innovations and stuff."

"Now, that's the spirit! Good for you! We really should stop waiting for what our parents or country can do for us and start using the brain God gave us," Gio commented with growling satisfaction.

"Yeah, rightly said from someone born rich," Tosin sarcastically replied.

"I mean business. My heart's cry is I wish I'd been born poor."

Tosin's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"Yes," Gio stabbed a finger at his close-cropped hair, "then my brain usage wouldn't be limited and my focus wouldn't be on my father's wealth. I would be striving for ways to make money, be very creative--which I'm doing--and girls wouldn't be chasing me left, right, and centre."

"I'm really beginning to think you're crazy. Not to have the luxuries and pleasures of life? To have to think of where your next meal would come from and all that. I did a charity project with a group in church and the poverty I saw made me thank God he gave me a wealthy father." He cringed at the memory.

Tosin's comment aroused laughter in his roommate.

"And you like the fact that your life is no longer private? That every slight mistake you make is made known to the public by desperate reporters? And that you are ensconced in this private university instead of a federal or state university where you experience real life?"

Tosin moved a shoulder nonchalantly. "I know my life isn't perfect but I'm grateful I don't have to go without."

"It sucks being rich," Gio murmured quietly.

There was silence between them until a rapid set of knocks sounded on their door. The guy to whom Gio had given the parcel burst into the room.

His face was flushed with excitement. "This is HTC Hero!" 

Gio looked at him with disinterest. Tosin smiled.

"Are you sure you don't want it?" The guy asked.

Gio shook his head slowly.

He grinned. "Men! Thanks a lot. I've been planning on how to get the phone. My dad cut my allowance because I had some academic issues so it was almost next to impossible getting it. Do you know this phone's camera is five megapixels?" he excitedly told them.

"Yes," Tosin answered.

"You're the man.....emmm, incase more gifts come that you don't want, I'm in Room 44." He made to leave but came back. "I almost forgot. Here's the romantic card that came with it. Her phone number and pictures are inside it."

"Please keep them but please let her know you got the gift and appreciate it. Thanks."

"Will do. See you guys later."

Tosin and Gio burst into laughter when the door closed quietly behind the guy filled with euphoria.

*To be continued*

kingphilip:
Booked space

Not here, bro. Okadabooks. Thanks

Paradise163:
AudreyTimms immediately I saw this story on Okadabooks with you as the Author I bought the book because I know you never disappoint. It was indeed worth the pay. You are a Genius Dear.

Aww thanks dear. I'm glad you enjoyed it and it was worth your money.

stonecoldcafe:


Did u reli reli reli have to do that?

Good question

@aprilwise, it feels good to be back.


@repogirl, yes o. It's good to be back. I'm still up for what we discussed. Just waiting for something.


@SexySapphire, thanks dear. I missed you too. Hope to have you very active here like you were in Unfulfilled promises.


@kingphilip, you're welcome. It will be worth your while.


@BlizzydoDo, it's good to be back. Thanks dear

**********

The tall, dark and handsome muscular guy opened his door slowly. He held his breath as the wooden door made a slight creak, disturbing the silence around the house. He paused in his movements and waited. When he was sure he didn't hear a sound, he glanced in the direction of the living room. It was empty. God was definitely on his side. 

Felix Eromosele, a third year student of Mass Communication from Delta State University beckoned to the nervous girl behind him to follow him. The scantily clad girl practically plastered herself on the hunk's back as they made their way across the large and tastefully furnished living room to the main door. 

Felix paused all of a sudden and made a sharp turn around. He nearly upset his companion's balance at his sudden movement. He placed his forefinger on the girl's lips and his ears turned up like that of a dog. He could have sworn he heard a door open. After few tense minutes, he didn't hear anything, he turned and they continued their noiseless journey to the front door. The young man had just placed a hand on the brass handle of the door when he heard his name. He froze. The young girl froze also. 

Felix counted to ten before he slowly made an arc movement, praying to God that he hadn't really heard anything, but standing in the hallway with arms akimbo was his stout mother, gazing sternly at his entertainment for last night. He swallowed thickly. 

The young girl started shivering like a leaf in the wind and made a mad dash behind Felix. She groped for the door handle but to her consternation, the door was locked when her hand located it. She threw an uneasy glance at the irate woman and saw that she was holding up a key with a wicked smile on her face. The woman left them there and went back into her room.

Felix sighed and bowed his head. Battle Number One Thousand and Thirty Four between mother and son was about to take place. His companion started crying and muttering that she wanted to go home immediately but he kept her quiet as he pondered his next move. He was beginning to get sick and tired of these battles with his mum. He cursed ASUU and the Federal Government for the strike action that had caused him to stay at home for two months now. 

He couldn't sample the girls in the village without the knowledge of his mother and nosy neighbours. What did they want from him? Couldn't they see his hormones were raging, coupled with the fact that girls threw themselves at him at every turn? Sheesh!

School was a different ball game however. He had girls going and coming from his room as if it was designated for Project Fame auditions. It wasn't his fault that God had blessed him with exceptionally good looks. It also wasn't his fault that girls chased him wherever he went. He knew it was pretty low of him bringing a girl into his father's house to ravish overnight but his plan of sampling the girl in his friend's house had been foiled at the return of the guy's parents and his high libido wouldn't take no for an answer. He had snuck the girl in when his mother had gone to church for evening mass.

The twenty-two-year-old guy made the girl sit on one of the sofas after telling her to shut up and pull herself together and made his way to his parent's room with slow steps. He knocked on the heavy wooden door and pushed down the door handle, sighing with relief as the door opened. He quickly entered and scanned the spacious room. His mother laid on her side on the king-sized bed, flipping through a magazine. His gaze held one of the portraits of the family of five on the wall. An identical replica graced the living room also. His two elder sisters were happily married with kids while he was the baby of the family, much to his chagrin since it meant all eyes were constantly on him.

He shrugged and moved further into the room. He sat at the foot of the bed and stared at his mother. The silence still dragged on like a hangman's rope threatening to snap tight at any moment.

"Mumcy, how far na? Good morning, Ma," he quietly said but silence greeted him. "Maale, I hail o! How was your night?"

Silence.

He cleared his throat. "The gown in that mag is fine sha. Maybe I should tell your tailor to sew the style for you. E go fit you die!"

Silence.

Undeterred, he continued, "Dad is a very lucky man o! This kain fine woman wey e marry so."

His mother pushed aside the magazine and faced him, trying her best not to smile. "Ehigianewo! Ehigianewo! Ehigianewo! How many times did I call you?"

"Err...I lost count," he replied her, feigning innocence. He didn't particularly like it when his mother called him by his native name. Who really said one couldn't quarrel with God? Contrary to the meaning of his native name, he'd been quarelling with God all his life for making him come as the last child in his family.

"You lost count. What am I going to do with you? What is wrong with you?" His mother was clearly exasperated.

Felix frowned. "Boredom. I'm tired of staying at home. I'm tired of the strike."

"You have no one to blame but yourself. Your dad and I put you in two different private universities but you made sure you were expelled from them."

Her son scoffed. "Mumcy, abeg. All those glorified secondary schools. I didn't do anything. It wasn't my fault that I was caught in a rape situation and it was turned into something else. Cut me some slack. Don't tar me with the same brush as those spoilt rich kids."

"Rape!" Mrs. Eromosele fumed and sat up. "You keep saying that. How could three girls have tried to rape you in both schools? There's no virgin in a maternity ward."

Felix laughed. "Mumcy, forget that thing. There are desperado girls out there. Like I told you, I was walking to my hostel one night after studying when some guys kidnapped me and took me to one of our lecture halls where the girls were already waiting for me in various states of UnCloth that would shock even an experienced prostitute. They wanted us to have an orgy but I refused, being a good Christian boy. I was...."

His mother just continued to stare at him in awe with an elevated brow as he continued his outrageous story. She had known he'd grow up to be a very handsome guy but not this handsome. She'd tried her best to train him to grow up in the way of the Lord like she had done with his sisters but Felix allowed his good looks get into his head. He couldn't say no to advances from girls and felt God had blessed him with his beauty in order to patronize girls. She had learned to take his words with a pinch of salt but she had to give him the benefit of the doubt sometimes, seeing how girls made utter fool of themselves around him, not withstanding her presence.

"That was how two security men came and accused us of having an orgy. They failed to see me struggling as the three girls tried to strip me," Felix concluded his hilarious tale with the air of a man expecting a round of applause for his thoughtfulness.

"What are you trying to prove to me with these lies? Felix, this your life style will get you into trouble one day. A restless feet may walk into a snake pit. I'm sick and tired of fighting with you. I'm getting tired of advising you. Do you want to contact STDs and AIDS or be a father in your youthful age? Condoms and contraceptives are not full proof against such things. Beware my son, beware. There are agents of Satan out there who are out for guys like you to ruin them. Destiny killers! Please, Felix, listen to your mother. Stop your womanizing. Stop it before it's too late. Please. He who has ears let him hear. What an adult sees sitting down, a child cannot see even if he climbs a mountain. A word is enough for the wise. I've said my piece." She put her hand underneath the pillow beside her and brought out the key.

Felix smiled and stretched forth his hand. Before she placed the key on it, she looked deeply into his eyes. "I don't want a repeat performance of last night. Don't ever in your life bring a slutty girl into this house again. Except you want your father to hear about it when he comes back from Abuja. When it becomes too much, Edo people no longer buy."

Felix had a brief moment of shame for his father. There was no way he was ever going to tell his sweet and gentle mother that his dad was like him too-- a player. He suspected she knew but the words would never come out from his lips. He nodded and she placed the key gently on his outstretched arm. 

"Mumcy, you're the best mother on earth. God specially made your womb for me. Blessed are you amongst women and blessed..."

"Get out of my room!" She shouted with a short laugh. "It's now you want to quote Hail Mary for me. Silly boy!" She'd have to dig in her heels to stop him from wrapping her around his little finger like he'd always done as a child.

Felix grinned, got up and moved to the door. He blew her a kiss when he opened the door which made her laugh. He shut the door and placed his body against it. That was close. It hadn't even been the battle he had expected. He sighed. In the past, they would have continued having a go at each other for hours. He was surprised that she hadn't come to bang on his room door repeatedly in anger when she discovered he had a girl with him like she did in the past. She hadn't even beaten the bejesus out of the girl like she'd done to the last girl she'd caught in his room. He knew why he'd gotten an easy victory. His poor mum was lonely. His dad had been in Abuja for a month now, supposedly seeing to the affairs of his business there but Felix knew better. He'd overheard his dad on a phone call to one of his girlfriends telling her where he'd pick her the following morning for their trip to Abuja.

He'd lost respect for his dad the day he'd gone to check out a sixteen-year-old girl in her house and met his father there, waiting for the girl as well. He'd left the place in anger after supressing the urge to pound his father's stomach with blows. His father on returning home had gone to plead with him in his room not to tell his mother. They talked man to man and his father promised to stop his womanizing ways. He'd thought his father actually stopped until driving by with friends, he'd seen him coming out of the same girl's house one evening. That was when the little percentage of respect he had for him totally evolved. He had made sure the man sighted him and since then, they'd become cat and dog. Felix spoke to him anyhow he liked and his father always fumed at his disrespectful attitude towards him. His mother had wondered and asked countless times what happened between them because though they hadn't had the best father-son relationship in the world, they used to be close pals. His father had had the guts to tell his wife that he was tired of their son's philandering, hence their incessant squabbles. It was the thought of how hurt his mother would be that had stopped Felix from spilling the beans that day. But seeing how lonely she was, while his dad was having the time of his life with a girl old enough to be his daughter, he just might let the cat out of the bag soon.

Felix got to the living room where the silly girl was still looking frightened. She folded her arms protectively around herself, still white as a sheet, still in shock. He would be glad to see the back of her, exprencienced in bedmatics though she was. He opened the door and she rushed out telling him she would never try such with him again and he'd never see her again. He laughed scornfully. It was a lie. She'd been after him for weeks now and had told him just that morning in his room that she was always available whenever he wanted her.

He put his hands on the railings on the balcony and watched as she swayed her hips to the gate. The gateman opened it after casting a disdainful look at her. Felix smiled. Old Baba Johnson was used to seeing such things. For his mother's sake, Felix knew he had to tone down on his exploits till the return of his father. He didn't want to upset her. He just hoped his healthy libido would listen to his reasoning. But after a luscious romp in bed with that girl, he knew he just had to quit for awhile. He continued saying that to himself until Baba Johnson opened the gate after a small knock and the beautiful girl he'd been chasing for months entered the compound. He smiled. Maybe just one more before he'd stick to his resolution. 

*To be continued*

**********

The girl on the bed tried her best to hide the envy in her eyes as she stared at the girl standing before the rose tinted mirror. Jessica's jealous gaze roved all over her friend's body. She wished for the umpteenth time that she had her friend's hour-glass figure. Fiorella was out and out stunning. From the crown of her glorious head to the soles of her delicate feet, she was a picture of exquisite beauty. Her ebony skin shone at all times and she carried herself with the grace of a queen. Jessica eyed her friend's pale yellow Valentino lace crepe couture dress with black leggings and longed for it. She wouldn't look better than Fiorella in the dress but at least she'd be able to own another designer dress courtesy of her generous friend. Even the black silk jacket, white flared short skirt she had on had been given to her by Fiorella. It was a good thing they were about the same height even though she always had to give the clothes to a tailor to help her adjust them since she had nothing going for her in the hips and buttocks department, but she could boast of ample bosoms; the only thing she surpassed Fiorella with.

Fiorella, unaware of the musings of the girl seated on her roommate's bed, applied a dash of her gold Loreal lipstick on her lips as she gazed at her reflection on the mirror in her hostel room. She was the epitome of stylish elegance in her designer 'ensemble.

"Ella, please hurry up...I don't want us to be late for Professor Charles's class," Jessica grumbled from the bed.

Fiorella moved her gaze from the mirror to her friend. "Jessica, I've told you a number of times that I don't like that name. If you must shorten my name, please call me Fi or else I'll start calling you by your native name, Uzodinma." She smiled. Her dimples appeared.

"God forbid!" Disgust was written all over Jessica's face. "That local name! I wonder what my parents were thinking when they gave me such a name. A beautiful chick like me bearing such a name." She clicked her tongue in disgust.

Jessica was indeed beautiful but she couldn't hold a torch to Fiorella.

Fiorella only laughed and turned to gaze at her reflection on the mirror again.

"You can afford to laugh, after all, your parents gave you and your siblings beautiful Italian names. Giovanni, Fiorella and Gaetano." Jessica couldn't hide the envy in her voice.

Fiorella shrugged before walking to her wardrobe to stare at the numerous clothes, shoes, handbags and accessories there.

"My dad loves Italy with a passion. He was born and brought up there," she informed her friend.

Her black eyes still laced with envy, Jessica replied, "Little wonder he was once the youngest Nigerian ambassador to Italy."

Fiorella shrugged again as she kept skimming through clothes in her wardrobe. "I really am not feeling this dress."

Jessica had to hold herself from cussing her friend out, after all, it isn't right for one to call the forest that shelters you a jungle. That dress must have cost an arm and a leg. Jealousy and envy poured out from every pore in Jessica's body. An immense bitterness gripped her. The emotion was so intense, it literally shook her. How dare Fiorella say she wasn't feeling the dress which lovingly hugged her body and made her look like a model? Did she have any idea how she'd love to have such a dress? Gosh! These spoilt rich kids! Born with platinum spoons in their fragile mouths, they didn't know what struggling meant.

She had befriended Fiorella when she heard how generous was. She had initially ignored her all through their first year in the school out of jealousy and envy because Fiorella was so beautiful and likable but when she heard the darling girl was a cheerful giver, Jessica put aside her jealousy and made sure she drew close to her with different antics. She made people tell lies against Fiorella's best friend and caused a rift as wide as an earthquake between the two friends, which inevitably led to the demise of their friendship. With the coast clear, she devised a means of drawing close to the nice girl, put wool over her eyes and now, Fiorella couldn't do anything without her.

No one should ever know she was fronting. They all thought she was from a wealthy home, but no one knew they were living at the mercy of her dad's elder brother, the Chief Justice of the Federation. Her dad had been a successful businessman once, but had made bad investments which had brought down his business. Now, his elder brother paid all his bills, pending when his business would spring up again. Since they shared the same surname, Jessica was able to claim the Chief Justice was actually her father without fear of being discovered. She was under partial scholarship due to her uncle's influence but she did her best not to be discovered. Scholarship students were treated like outcasts; well, except the handsome and beautiful ones.

"Do you want it? It's my first time trying it on, so no one knows it's mine." Fiorella turned to look at her friend who was watching her steadily.

Jessica pasted a phony smile on her face. What a shi**y world! Now she was living on hand-me-downs. "Sure. Even if you've worn it for all and sundry to see a couple of times, I'd still accept it. We're best friends, so it's only natural and understandble for us to share things. Besides, it's a very lovely dress."

Fiorella smiled brightly. "We are about the same size though you're a bit taller, so it should fit nicely on you. My dad's assistant who shops for our clothes got it for me. Next time, I'll tell her to pick something more to your size and taste."

Jessica laughed heartily. "You're the best, Fi."

Fiorella beamed with delight. As she made to unzip the dress, she heard a knock on the door and a tall, dark-skinned girl came into the room with a small gift bag.

"Hi, Fiorella." She walked slowly into the room. She stood with uncertainty and stared at Fiorella where she was still standing by her wardrobe. 

The spacious room was designed in such a way that the two people sharing the room had their own space. To the left and right side of the room contained a student's bed, reading table and chair, book shelf and wardrobe with a door in between leading to the bathroom they shared and a plasma television on the wall at the far opposite of the bathroom door.

The girl ignored Jessica who was now lying on Fiorella's roommate's bed. Nobody really liked Jessica because she was more or less a b*tch.

"Hi. How may I help you?" Fiorella politely asked.

The girl hesitated. She spared Jessica--who had sat up by now--an uneasy glance before talking. "My name is Omoye. I'm a year one student of banking and finance. I...I..." she stammered to a halt.

Jessica and Fiorella shared a glance. Jessica's facial expression revealed that she was about to whoop with laughter but Fiorella felt pity for the girl. She already knew where she was heading.

"Okay." The troubled girl finally lifted her head. "I'm not going to beat around the bush anymore. Could you please help me give this to your brother, Giovanni?" She stretched forth the gift bag.

Jessica released a scornful laugh. Omoye saw red. The raw anger in her hard gaze did nothing for the girl who had fallen with mirth on the neatly made bed. 

"You're not ashamed of yourself. Did you come to school to buy gifts for guys? Instead of you to concernrate on your studies, you're chasing after a guy who doesn't even give a dam.n about you. I.diot!" Jessica slung at her with biting derision after containing her humour.

Aghast by the charge, Omoye turned and shot her an embittered look, a seething appraisal. "Hold it right there, a** wipe! Please mind your effin business...I wasn't talking to you."

Jessica jerked in anger. "What did you just call me, you shameless hussy?"

"News flash, b*tch, your mother is the shameless hussy. By what right do you dare to pass an opinion on my character?" Omoye replied her.

Jessica made to slap her but Fiorella moved quickly to hold her hand.

"Jessica, please leave her alone," she pleaded with her friend who glared at her, flung her hand from hers and sat down on the bed, fuming.

Fiorella turned to Omoye. "Please, I can't do what you want. Gio has threatened never speak to me if I dare do such again. Please take your gift back and give it to him yourself," she softly but firlmy told the girl.

The girl became downcast. She had actually heard that Fiorella wouldn't oblige her but she had come to try her luck where others had failed. Her respect for Fiorella grew.

"Thank you so much for your softly spoken words. I understand," she quietly said and made for the door. At the door, she turned back to look at her. 

"Please quit your friendship with this rabies-infested dog you call a friend. Rabid dogs bite and I don't want you bitten."

Jessica lunged to her feet but Omoye had already gone. Nevertheless, she opened the door and shouted after the rapidly walking girl.

"You are the rabid dog. Useless daughter of a road side slut!"

She banged the door shut and looked at her friend whose eyes reflected disappointment.

"Please don't start your lecture on etiquette. You know I have class but I won't take any form of insult lying down. I don't like people having not a spark of decency." She sat on the bed again, still fuming.

Fiorella shook her head. "You could see she was both embarrassed and hurt, and was looking for who to lash out on."

"That's her business. Nonsense!" Jessica hissed. "The most annoying thing is the guy these useless girls are always running after. Someone who behaves as if he's from the north pole. That cold, arrogant b.astard," she raged before she realised she had just insulted Fiorella's brother. She quickly looked at her friend, belatedly noticing the tears in her eyes. Slow tears brimmed up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Fiorella could cry at the drop of a hat.

Jessica speedily moved to hold her hand. 

"Fi, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I was angry. I'm sorry." She didn't want her to know she was among those who had a crush on her brother and had also been rebuffed by him, hence her anger.

More tears rolled down her friend's eyes.

Jessica felt bad. Was this the end of her acquiring that beautiful Valentino dress? She and her big mouth! She should learn to put a sock in it. "Oh, my God, Fi. I'm sorry, so sorry!"

Her friend shook her head. "You don't understand. That's not why I'm crying. A lot of people have called him worse."

Jessica made her sit on her own bed across the room before offering her a handkerchief from her handbag to clean the tears pouring down her lovely face, ruining her perfect makeup.

Fi, in the midst of her tears wondered if she should share her family's secret with Jessica. They'd only become fast friends this semester but Jessica had proven herself to be a true friend. She always had a listening ear and would defend her if anyone tried to pick a fight with her. She'd come into her life at a time when she lost her best friend right from her secondary school days in Loyola Jesuit College due to petty jealousy. Darasimi had gone about spreading lies about her and when she'd confronted her, the medical student had denied it vehemently even in the face of witnesses. Too pissed for words, Fiorella had severed their relationship shortly before she met Jessica.

Jessica's antennae became alert as she scrutinized her friend's lovely features. Her face suddenly wreathed with rampant curiosity. Fiorella looked as if she wanted to say something but was unsure. Jessica knew she had to make Fiorella tell her what always made her hesitate whenever they talked about Gio. She knew Fiorella was hiding something. Was Gio really gay as rumored? What a waste of that fine human specimen if it was true. She decided to play on the younger girl's emotions. She could use the info to her greatest advantage.

"Fi, I know we haven't been friends for long which is entirely my fault. Throughout our first year here, I thought you were a snob because of your dad being a Senator and all that, but when people started telling me how nice you were, I decided to be your friend, which was the reason why I approached you. I know you have no reason whatsoever to trust me, but please I'd like you to. I've noticed how sad you get sometimes, especially about Gio. You can confide in me. You've become so dear to me. I'm not even as close to my younger sister as I am to you," she lied through her teeth. She was an only child but since her uncle had four kids, she had to claim they were her siblings.

Fiorella sniffed. "Thank you so much for saying that. You've become dear to me too. You're the sister I never had."

Jessica smiled. Good girl, she said inwardly, for falling into her trap.

"Talk to me then," she told her calmly and held her hand.

Fiorella took a deep breadth and began her sad story.

Gio didn't use to be the cold fish he was now. He used to be a very jovial person. He made everyone laugh and feel happy. He started changing when their mother died five years ago. Before her death, Gio and their mother had been very close. The other kids-- her, Giordano, Gaetano used to be jealous of their closeness then, but they were the ones who brought life, joy and laughter into the family. The house was usually dull when they weren't around. Whenever their dad came home, they would all converge in the living room, talking, laughing, watching movies and playing games. Dinner used to be a lively affair. One longed to go home whenever one was in school. But all that changed at the death of their mother. Gio withdrew into his shell. Only his twin, Dano, could get through to him. He...

"Wait a minute," Jessica interjected. Her lower lip had briefly parted company with the upper. "Gio is a twin?"

"Yes. Giordano, but we fondly called him Dano."

"Where is he?"

Tears shadowed Fiorella's lovely eyes again. "He's dead."

"What?" Jessica was shocked.

Fiorella continued her story with tears in her eyes.

Dano died in a car crash a year after their mum. Almost a year after their mum's demise, their dad pulled Dano and Gio out of their university in Italy. They had been in their first year then. Their dad wanted them close to home so he could monitor Gio who seemed to be having psychological problems then. Dano crashed his car into an electric pole when he was driving home one rainy night. Gio got worse. Their dad, not knowing what to do, got him admitted into a pyschiatric hospital in America. For a whole year, Gio wasn't himself. Different psychologists came to see him but Gio wouldn't even say a word to them. He became a ghost. Eventually he got better but he never remained the same again.

"I'm so sorry." Jessica hugged her friend who was weeping like a baby.

"I miss my brother so much." Her eyes swimmed with tears at that painful recollection "My house is like a graveyard. Gaetano doesn't come home for hols anymore. He's always visiting friends and relatives and we rarely see my dad these days. Home is so depressing."

"Have you tried talking to Gio?" Jessica suggested.

"A million times but he just smiles and say he'd snap out of it someday. I've tried my best but it isn't working. I just pray he meets a girl who'd change him."

"I'm sorry but that's so unlikely since he hates girls with a passion. Why is that?"

Fiorella shrugged. "I really don't know. He wasn't like that until Dano died. Girls used to flood our house in the good old days." She sniffed heavily. "People see me and envy me but they don't know how depressed I am."

"I understand, dear. People are really fooled by appearances," Jessica said sadly, referring to herself but sobered up quickly. "Have you tried talking to your dad? Maybe he could have a man-to-man talk with Gio."

Fiorella sighed sadly. "They don't see eye to eye at all. Even though they look alike, they are like oil and water. Something happened between them when Dano died. So many things happened at Dano's death. I guess that just changed him so much. It's even going to get worse when Gio turns twenty-five."

"Why?"

Fiorella worried her bottom lip and wondered if she was doing the right thing. Gio would kill her if he found out she divulged their family secret. But she trusted Jessica. She was a good friend. She took a deep breath.

"Because he won't need to depend on my dad for anything again. He's going to come into the inheritance my maternal grandfather left for him and Dano. I'm talking about millions."

"Really?" Jessica couldn't help smiling. Wow! So in a few years Gio was going to be a millionaire. Now he was even more appealling to her.

Fiorella continued, unaware of her friend's thoughts. "Yes, and I might never see him again after that."

Her friend came back from her scheming just in time to hear that. "Don't be so pessimistic. Like you said, maybe the right girl might come along soon to change him. Every cloud has a silver lining." And if she played her cards right, she'd be that girl.

Fiorella sighed. "I sure hope so. Thanks so much for lending me your ears, Jess."

Jessica put an arm around her and hugged her. "You're welcome, darling. And thanks for confiding in me. Your secret is safe with me."

Fiorella smiled. 

Jessica fixed her gaze on the teddy bear-shaped clock on the wall. "Can we still make lectures?"

"Sure. Let me freshen up and change my attire." Fiorella rose fluidly. 

"Okay," Jessica said and laid on the bed smiling as her friend went into the bathroom.

She was tickled pink. Gio was quite a catch; drop dead gorgeous and would be filthy rich four years from now. Indeed, a chick that will grow into a cock can be spotted the very day it hatches, like her mother was fond of saying. She'd always known there was something special about Gio. She had to set her plans in motion.

She frowned heavily all of a sudden. She'd made advances but had been rebuffed mercilessly. Would she be able to turn things around? Anyway, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. She'd open her whole bag of tricks then.

Gio by hook or crook, you'll be mine, she affirmed inwardly with a bright smile to rival a new bride's.

ISBN 978-1518781070

LETTING GO

Copyright © 2016 by Audrey Timms.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Audrey Timms, audreytimms83@gmail.com, www.audreytimms.com

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the author in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.



Disclaimer
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.




Holding on is believing that there’s a past; letting go is knowing that there’s a future.
—Daphne Rose Kingma


CHAPTER ONE


2009


NKIRU Chiwendu flipped the pages of her book in exasperation. She removed her glasses and squinted her eyes. She used her flowery handkerchief to wipe her eyes before placing the glasses on her beautiful eyes. Her book was shoved aside in frustration before she placed her head on the table and sighed. She was tired of reading yet she had about five more pages of her System Analysis and Design notebook to read.


They were going to have a test on it the following day and Nkiru wasn't looking forward to it. Not that she was a dullard or anything, in fact, she was among the best brains in the class; one of the class swots, but at that moment, she didn't feel like reading. Sheer will stopped her from reaching for her Judith McNaught novel inside her worn handbag. It wouldn't do her any good to lose herself in a novel when her brain was screaming for her to read for her test. 


Nkiru pouted and sighed again. That lecturer must have been given birth to on the day test was invented. The young lecturer gave tests at the drop of a hat. Nkiru wondered for what must be the one-millionth time what the numerous tests were for. They only needed thirty percent of continuous assessment but she could count six tests they'd done already. Miss Obiora definitely needed a man in her life to keep her busy instead of marking test scripts. She sighed again. She couldn't fault the lecturer though. Miss Obiora always went the extra mile for them. Undaunted by the number of students in her class, she always made sure she carried everyone along. It was one of the reasons why she was loved by students in the Computer Science Department. Some lecturers had tried emulating her but came up wanting.


Nkiru pondered. Would she like to be a lecturer in future? It was her greatest desire to further her education to the highest level possible but would her parents be able to afford it? Would she be able to get another scholarship for her masters and phd like the one she was presently enjoying? All these were probabilities. It had been a stroke of luck or favour from God, whatever, that had made her aware of the scholarship examination. Registration had just being an hour or so to closing when she had listened to two customers who came to buy some biscuits in her mother's shop in her village, Amiri in Oru East LGA in Imo state. Acting out of character, she'd asked them what they were talking about and had been informed about the bi-annual scholarship exams sponsored by the richest man in their local government and founder of 'Prestige' private university. She'd rushed like a bat out of hell to Owerri after borrowing money from her younger sister for transportation and registration. There was no way she would miss out on it, having lost her admission to study medicine at the University of Lagos due to lack of funds.


After registering, she'd burnt the proverbial midnight oil studying while her family had taken to praying for God's favour. They had no fear about Nkiru's ability to come out in flying colours because the girl was very brilliant, in fact, the most brilliant in the entire family of eight, a trait she'd inherited from her father. They were however scared that since they were poor and had no 'big man' sponsoring them, the Nigerian factor of 'long leg' would come into play. Luckily, Chief Ernest Ihenacho had the final say on who would be admitted into his prestigious school which occupied a large expanse of land in the outskirts of Owerri. Nkiru had come out first in the whole local government and being very impressed by her results after conducting a private exam with her and an interview, the chancellor had granted her full scholarship. All she paid for now were her meals in the various school canteens and restaurants and transport fares in the school's shuttles. Her family had danced themselves to stupor that day. She didn't get her first choice which was medicine because scholarships weren't given to study medical sciences in the school. So she'd taken her second choice- Computer Science and had never had cause to regret it.


The young lady came back to the present with a smile and looked around her at the other students who were reading also at the arc-shaped reading pavilion. She became envious of them when she noticed they were all reading intently. She however smiled when she noticed a guy playing invisible football with his head. His head would go backward, then forward again like a footballer trying to head a ball. The guy who was seated beside him looked as if he was playing a game on his phone due to his facial expression.


"Good. I'm not the only one tired of reading," Nkiru muttered. She moved her neck first to the right and then to the left before stretching her stiff body.


Rows and rows of wooden seats occupied the pavilion. Students loved coming to read there after lectures due to the breezy atmosphere of the place. There were about three of such pavilions stationed very close to the lecture halls. There were other reading halls but they were situated at the hostel areas. Nkiru favoured the pavillion because it enabled her study what she'd been taught that particular day before going back to the hostel, which was a den of distraction. She only visited the reading halls close to the hostels during weekends or if her lectures finished very early.


Nkiru looked around again and shook her head. "People sabi read sha," she muttered before she heard a bang beside her. The invisible-football guy had finally headed the ball. But unfortunately for him, it was actually the table in front of him he'd headed in real life. As about forty pairs of eyes stared at him, he wiped his mouth from the drool that had poured forth in his deep slumber, took his text book and rose. The poor guy practically ran out of the pavilion amidst giggles from some naughty girls. Nkiru rolled her eyes at them before staring at the rapidly departing figure of the guy. He was heading striaght for the buses designated for taking students to their hostels, probably to go and continue his sleep. He would probably make a good footballer. She chuckled.


She noticed her close friend and roommate, Hassana Ismaila walking gracefully towards the pavilion along with other students walking to and fro. Nkiru wasn't vain but she couldn't help marveling at the beauty Hassana was. Her roommate was slim, quite tall and a bit curvy for an Hausa girl. Her fair and creamy skin drew stares from some guys who passed her on the way to the pavillion. The red and blue leafy-patterned dress and red shawl with gold sprinkles wrapped around her head, covering her very long hair couldn't hide her fantastic figure. Long legs carried her with poise and her heart-shaped face lit with a smile when she sighted her friend. She was not the brightest spark on the block but a very likeable girl. 


Hassana made her way to her friend from the rows of benches at the pavillion, hitting and apologizing to students in her haste to get to her friend. Her beautiful and carefully made-up face the cynosure for all the male eyes she passed.


"He's coming!" Hassana's cheeks were flushed with excitement when she finally got to her friend and sat down beside her before placing her hand bag on the table. Her exotic Chanel No. 5 fragrance filled the air.


Nkiru stared at her askance. "Who is coming?"


"Gio!" Hassana whispered and looked in the direction of where she'd just come from; the lecture halls arena.


Nkiru rolled her eyes in disgust. She was sick and tired of the obsession Hassana had for Gio. Hassana was from a rich family in the northern part of the country but the fact that she was engaged to a member of a royal family--also from the north--didn't stop her from drooling over and chasing Gio. Her friend felt Gio was the next best thing since sliced bread.


Nkiru hissed. "Wetin una see for that Gio sef?"


Hassana stared at her as if she had committed a sacrilege. "What do we see in Gio? Kill yourself! Gio is the most handsome guy on earth ne," she said squarely in hero worship.


Nkiru hissed again. "Abegee!" She waved her hand in disgust.


Hassana's eyes narrowed. She stared at her bespectacled friend who had her gaze focused on her book. Hassana didn't want to believe Nkiru was feeling inferior, after all, she was really a Plain Jane-- for want of a better description of her friend and roommate. Nkiru really had nothing going for her except her unusual color of eyes for a Nigerian which was a mixture of green and yellow. She had a nice shape with nice legs but she wouldn't turn a guy's head. The Vaseline she rubbed on her body as body cream every morning wasn't doing anything for her chocolate-colored skin. To make matters worse, Nkiru lacked dress sense. The dress she had on presently was hideous. Hassana wouldn't be caught dead in such a horrible gown. The brown colour had definitely gone back to the factory from which it was made, leaving an indescribable colour behind. She didn't know whether to call it a frock or what. It hung loosely on her friend like a babanriga (cloth worn by Hausa men) on a skeleton. In the three years she had known her friend, she had never made her hair because she had naturally long hair. It was always tied in a bun at her nape. Nkiru would probably die if she ever wore high-heeled shoes. It was like Amadioha (Igbo deity) would strike her with leprosy if she ever used makeup. Plain Jane was even a compliment in trying to describe her friend. She really could understand why Nkiru wouldn't be moved by Gio, knowing fully that he wouldn't spare her a glance. An old lady feels uneasy when dry bones are mentioned in a proverb.


Hassana grimaced. "If only you would dress a bit more..."


Nkiru couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Please don't start. I'm not here for that. What will Ahmed, your fiancee, say if he finds out you've been running after a guy since Year Two?"


Hassana hissed. She wiggled her hands and the numerous colourful bangles she had on her wrist jiggled, thereby attracting the attention of those who were reading. "That's his business. He can't say anything. We were betrothed from childhood, so he knows I'll marry him no matter what. A little fling doesn't hurt. Besides, do I know what he's doing over there in India?"


Nkiru laughed again. She knew that was just talk. Hassana and Ahmed were head over heels in love with each other. Ever since in their teens when their parents introduced them to each other, they'd become the best of friends. They spent hours talking on the phone. Ahmed was studying medicine in India and would be through the following year. They were going to tie the knot when Hassana was through with her own university education which was roughly a year and a half away. Hassan, her twin brother was studying information technology in Japan. Hassana had maintained she didn't want to study abroad so a chaperone in the persons of her cousins, a male and female were sponsored by her family to keep an eye on her since her twin who was a no-nonsense guy couldn't keep a watch over her. They all knew Hassana could be very naughty and mischievous. When she was younger, she had to be flogged or scolded before going for Islamiyya (arabic lessons).The founder of the school and her father were very good friends, hence their decision to bring their daughter to a school so far away from home. So far Hassana had been doing well, except for her crush on Gio.


"Here he comes," Hassana cut into her friend's thoughts. "Oh, please do me a favour. Please help me check if he looks at me."


Nkiru rolled her eyes again in disgust. "I'll do no such thing."


Her friend was appalled. "Oh, please na. I'll buy you snickers later." 


Nkiru smiled. "How many bars?" She'd been caught. She was ready to be burned at the stakes just for a bar of snickers chocolate. Hassana paused. Nkiru smiled again. "The ball is in your court. How many?"


"Four...okay, as many as you want." Her beautiful friend rolled her eyes.


"Deal," Nkiru agreed, smiling.


She turned to look at the guy slowly walking towards them while Hassana grabbed the book Nkiru had been reading and pretended to read from it.


The arc-shaped pavilion was placed a little distance from their lecture halls so students who were going to their respective hostels after lectures usually passed in front of the pavilion. Nkiru was in the front row of seats so she could clearly see those who were walking by.


Reluctantly, she forced herself to stare at him. As he came closer with his hands in his Levi's denim pockets and his Calvin Klein backpack on his back, Nkiru had to admit that Giovanni Ekwe was indeed drop dead gorgeous. He was indisputably the most gorgeous guy she had ever seen in human form. He had to be at least six feet three. His superbly tailored Giorgio Armani shirt and denim outlined broad, muscular shoulders and long, lean legs. The fabric and the cut alone screamed expense. He had the lethal, inborn grace of a wild animal and the intimidating and instinctive authority of a man born to command. He was dark and handsome. His darkness shone. Nkiru couldn't help staring at him. Had Nigerian gods like Amadioha and Sango not been made to look very scary in movies, she would have called him a Nigerian god. He could be likened to a dark greek god, what with his biceps and all. A dark angel. Her lustrous hazel eyes followed Gio's every move.


No wonder girls were crazy about him. They stalked him like crazy, like how they were doing at present. Three girls were walking directly behind him. He passed by without even a glance at those reading at the pavilion. His dark eyes were staring straight ahead and the ear plugs in his ears showed he couldn't even hear what was going on around him. He behaved as if he was impervious to chaos.


"Why?" Hassana stared after him in disappointment. "After I dropped my bag in front of him and picked it, smiling at him, he walked by without even looking. And I made sure he knew I was coming this way. I bet those three witches stalking him made him not to look this way." Hassana pouted.


Nkiru went off into gales of laughter. ‘Sorry!’ she gasped when Hassana hit her with a feeble hand, bending over and hugging her aching ribs as amusement bubbled out of her convulsed throat. She didn't want to point out to her friend that she was practically stalking him too.


"He didn't look this way because he doesn't look anywhere when he's walking. He doesn't talk to girls except his sister and cousins. He rarely talks to guys sef. He's cold hearted and arrogant. That's why I wonder what you girls see in him." Nkiru hissed and took her book from Hassana's hands.


"Didn't you just see him? That hunk of a guy?" Hassana was scandalized at her friend's words.


"Granted he's handsome, but I'd rather be with a nice, warm and loving ugly guy than with that handsome statue. Besides, I'm really beginning to believe the word on the grapevine that he's gay."


"He's not!" Hassana denied vehemently. "It was that vengeful b*tch, Louisa, who started the rumor just because he turned her down."


"Na una sabi," Nkiru said and stretched delicately like a cat. "Me I don tire to read. Lemme hit the sack so that I'd be fully alert to read at night. Wake me up when you get to the room and meet me still asleep."


"Book worm," Hassana teased but Nkiru shrugged and lifted her worn out handbag. She was used to the name.


"You know I can't afford to slack in my studies. Unlike you rich kids, I'm here on scholarship. I have to maintain a minimum of 2.1 GP or get kicked out."


Hassana shook her head sadly at that.


"Aren't you going for your last lecture?" Nkiru asked over her shoulder when Hassana didn't make any move to rise.


"No, I want to wait. Who knows? Gio might come this way again."


Nkiru laughed. "No sha keep vigil for here o! See you later."


Hassana watched her friend walk away. The awful second-hand dress she had on however didn't hide her nice legs. Hassana had pleaded with her a number of times to take her shopping or give her some of her clothes and accessories but Nkiru always refused stubbornly. She was poor but she had her pride; she didn't want to be a charity case to anyone.


Hassana shrugged and stretched on the seat to see if she could see Gio coming back from a distance. She was indifferent to the fact that she was the only student there without a notebook or a textbook.

Author's note

Owwkkaayy! Audrey Timms is back. Well, I hope it's for good this time around. I've been around the world (in my living room though ). I've read a lot of books and done short grammar courses, and I have come to a conclusion -- I'm more of a storyteller than a writer . After reading numerous books by wonderful authors and seeing their styles of writing, and the way they capture scenes with words too beautiful to even explain, I had to come to that conclusion. I know and have accepted that I'm not in the class of LarrySun (my role model), PrettySpicey (the description queen), repogirl (even my darling husband attested to this fact after reading Forever and For Always), moskeda (darling Sally -- the Fish Brain queen) e.t.c. YET but I hope to be someday and hopefully surpass them. This is neither humility nor modesty, I'm just trying to be real.



Anyway, I'm glad to be back and happy to say that I was able to write six books last year, four in my head and two on my iPad. This one- Letting Go and Waiting For The Bouquet on okadabooks- http://okadabooks.com/book/about/10290 (make una go buy am) 



I have Dyoungstar to thank for this title. After coming up with a couple of very silly titles, he came to my rescue. Thanks bro. 



I am first and foremost a Nigerian before a writer...oops! Sorry, a storyteller. A reader once wrote to me to tell me to use more of American language and slangs. While I agree the world is changing, but abegee! I no dey form wetin I no be. Give me a good story with Nigerian slangs anyday, anytime to remind me of who I am and why I love naija. *singing, 'Audrey really love naija.'* However, no speaking of pidgin English for me this time around. Someone told me that for a writer...storyteller, I speak too much of it. And no shorthand as well. Lastly, please I want straightforward and down to earth criticisms. I think 'You're the best' has lost taste. Let's be creative, biko.



Okay. I'm done with my ramblings. Let's get the show on the road. We know the rules of the game- slow and steady before we get to the suspense and tears. No fighting, no quarreling or amma through you out of the thread. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion though.



Warning-- I'm not going to be as consistent as i was in posting Unfulfilled Promises. The first reason is because I want to frustrate those thieving b.astards who engage in plagiarism (last pidgin English- Na God go punish all of una. The thunder wey go fire una dey take phd lessons from Sango). *takes a deep breath* Okay! Where were we? Yes. Secondly, I'm like crazy busy these days with family, work, church, friends, dogs, enemies, environment, gossip, climate change, market, clicking on meaningless posts, just staring at my mirror trying to remember what to do next, and so much more. Una get the gist abi? So I might have to post only on Wednesdays and weekends but let's see how it goes. Please bear with me.



Pack filled with pain, love, betrayal, secrets, scheming, paranormal activities with a dash of my second favorite foriegn language -- Italian, Letting Go will blow you away. So hold on to your seat belts and please try not to smash your device against the wall. Please remember I'm human, imperfect and liable to mistakes.



This is a story of Giovanni Ekwe and his father, Senator Ekwe. I'm already working on the sequel (in my head sha), Moving Forward. 



Enjoy! 



Audrey Timms



P.S. - Please like my Facebook page, Audreytimmslibrary at http://web.facebook.com/audreytimmss/



I dedicate this story to divepen1 for being hardworking and also a good friend to me. Thanks a billion.



Thanking you.

joanee20, please modify your post and unquote that scene. Thanks

Annabel

"So Annabel, why don't you tell Dr. Philips all about your stay in Spain," Annabel's mother implored her and earned herself an exasperated look from her daughter.

Annabel looked at their dinner guest who was seated opposite her at the beautifully set dining table. She returned her gaze to her meal of boiled potatoes, steamed spinach and gravy. 

"There's nothing to tell. I was on vacation there and I had a nice time," she said with a note of finality but she forgot her mother's nickname was 'Never say die.'

"Is that all you have to say? Why don't you tell him about the beautiful city of Madrid," came the reply.

Annabel rolled her eyes. "Mother! I hardly think this is dinner time conversation."

Her mother frowned as she lifted her wine glass to her lips. "Well, you have been quiet all evening, darling."

"That's because I'm tired. I had a hectic day. I attended a wedding and a baby shower," Annabel retorted and sipped from her white wine.

Dr. Philips focused on the frown the beautiful lady seated directly in front of him wore and knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her. Beautiful was an understatement. At first sight, she'd taken his breath away. Yes, that was the word, she was breath-taking! She was all of five feet eight and the expression 'black is beautiful' had probably been coined for her. She was dark skinned with a perfectly shaped oval face, full lips, small but pointed nose, very dark eyes that could swallow a man whole. Annabel also had a fine bone structure and long long legs that made a man think of where he'd like them to be. Despite the fact that she was svelte, she still had it going for her in the boobs, hips and buttocks department. She was thirty-three years old but looked twenty eight. Her only flaw was the fact that she was as cold as ice and a bore to be with. She was so damn quiet; one could have a better conversation with a statue. Alas, the rumour he'd heard about her was true. But his matchmaking mother and hers wouldn't let them be. 

"It's okay," he cut in before a full-fledged verbal war broke out between mother and daughter. "I have to get going anyway. I have to see some patients of mine before heading home."

His hostess looked crestfallen. "Really? Maybe some other time then." 

Dr. Philips smiled while the moody beauty picked at her food. 

"Annabel, see Dr. Philips to the door," Annabel's mother said in a no-nonsense tone.

Annabel's head shot up. She was about to protest but changed her mind and stood up gracefully. Even the small movement got to Dr. Philips. Too bad he couldn't pursue the relationship. He already had a warm and willing girlfriend. His mother didn't approve of her just because she was from a poor home but he didn't give a dam.n about that. He'd rather spend eternity in hell with his girlfriend than be in heaven with this ice maiden. 

He thanked the elderly woman for the invitation and superb meal and walked quietly out of the dining room beside Annabel. In silence, they walked through the living room--which in his opinion was too big and elaborately furnished--and got to the front door. At the heavy oak door, Annabel paused and folded her hands across her chest and her sun dress went an inch higher. He willed his eyes not to drop below to gaze at those sexy legs again.

"Well, goodnight, Annabel. And thanks for a...a...nice evening," he said, tongue-in-cheek.

She pasted a fake smile on her face and opened the door. He caught a whiff of her Chanel perfume and it almost made him grab her. He however controlled himself. She was a helluva lady.

She politely told him goodnight and he saw that it took every ounce of courtesy that had probably been drilled into her for years not to slam the door in his face.

Annabel marched furiously back to the dining room. Her mother had done it again; invited a stranger for dinner in a matchmaking spree.

"How dare you be so rude, Annabel?" her mother castigated her immediately she set foot in the dining room. She should have known the woman would beat her to the first sentence in a sparring match.

She matched to the head of the table where her mother was regally seated in a lavender flowing gown.

"Mother, we talked about this. Why did you invite someone to dinner without my knowledge again?"

"You're thirty-three years old, baby," her mother gently reminded her. 

Annabel threw up her hands in defeat and went back to her seat to feign eating. She tasted nothing because her taste buds seemed to have gone into hibernation. Mother and daughter never saw eye to eye whenever the marriage issue came up.

Frown lines deepened on her mother’s face. "Why are you like this? Why don't you want to get married like your mates? I'm sick and tired of going to weddings. I'm tired of my friends asking me about your wedding?"

"Then stop going to weddings," came the vehement reply.

The elderly woman's lips parted a little in shock. "Is that all you have to say?"

Annabel dropped her fork noisily on the ceramic plate. "Mother, we've been through this for like a million times now. If I'd known your invitation for me to stay with you till dad got back from the States was for you to invite every Tom, Dick and Harry to dinner every night, I'd have stayed back at my apartment."

Her mother glowered. "Stop exaggerating, baby, it doesn't suit you."

Annabel groaned. "That's the third guy this week!"

"Annabel, no matter how hot your anger is, it cannot cook yams!" her mother retorted sharply.

There was a moment of silence. Annabel folded her arms across her chest and scowled heavily. She took refuge in silence but her nerves were singing like a soldier's on the brink of a battlefield. The pin-dropping silence stretched. 

Chief Mrs. Peters eventually rose gracefully from her chair and walked over to her daughter. She drew out the chair close to hers and sat down on it. She unfolded her daughter's hands from her chest and held them. A different tactic was what she'd use for her daughter. After all, one had to be careful in trying to kill the fly that perched on the scrotum.

"Baby, I worry about you. You know that, don't you?" A finger caressed her daughter's hand. "I don't want you to end up an old maid. You're thirty-three years old, you don't have a boyfriend, you live alone, you've never had sex in your life and you're a workaholic. Need I continue?"

Annabel rolled her eyes but her mother ignored it and continued. "Life is like a shadow and a mist; it passes quickly by, and is no more. I want grandchildren from you."

"Mother, you already have ten grandchildren from my three elder brothers."

She cupped her daughter's sculptured cheekbones. "Yes, I know that but I want one from you too, my baby girl."

Annabel couldn't find the words to tell her mother that her dream would never come true. She didn't have the heart to tell her to stop matchmaking because she'd never get married. For an answer, she stared at her cold meal. Her mother dropped her hands, got up, hugged her and gave her a peck on her forehead.

Annabel watched her saddened mother exit the dining room. She wished for the umpteenth time that her father were here. He was the only one in their family of six who could get her mother off her back simply because he wanted to make it up to her for his wrong doings. He'd gone to the States to check on his investments. The beautiful lady had known it would be a terrible mistake coming home in her dad's absence but her mother had called her and practically bribed her to come over because she was very lonely. All her siblings resided abroad and her mother hadn't felt like traveling. She'd known her mother would bring up the marriage conversation but she hadn't envisaged she'd go as far as shocking her with strangers at dinner. 

The workaholic was pained that she couldn't tell her mother her secret. She hadn't even been able to tell her father--who she had been close to in the past--why she couldn't stand men. Even in the bank where she worked as Head of Operations, every male colleague of hers thought she was a snob but admired her because she was good at what she did. They however didn't know what she was hiding.

She shivered at the thought of anyone else finding out her secret. Only one person knew of her secret and in her estimation, that was already one person too many. No one else need ever know her darkest secret. She was prepared to take it to her grave. 


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Dennis

The atmosphere in the living room was as dull as dishwater. Dennis felt like stripping off his clothes and dancing Mapoka just to get his girlfriend to notice him but he knew he'd be making an a.ss of himself for nothing. Ever since Yvonne had flounced into his house that morning looking as sexy as ever, she'd not even spared him more than a glance. She'd been going through her mobile phone ever since. He had the mind of going to put off his generator just so her battery would run down and she just might notice his presence. So the hours he'd spent preparing her favourite meal of fried rice, salad and chicken were all for nought? And to think he'd rushed the cooking like crazy, praying that her flight would be delayed. He'd been mad as a hen protecting her chicks from a prey when he woke that morning, pissed that Joy hadn't woken him up before leaving. He couldn't fault her though. Everywhere was spotlessly clean. Not that Yvonne had even noticed.

Dennis rose from his chair and sat beside her on the sofa. Yvonne was still chatting away.

"Sweetie, did you come to see me or play with your phone?" He finally asked after sitting there, staring at her beautiful face and well-manicured nails for a few minutes.

Yvonne's beautiful face constricted in a frown. "Oh, baby.” Her gaze was still locked on her phone. “I'm so sorry. I totally forgot about you. Just a minute. I need to finish this conversation with my agent. He has this big gig for me-- an exotic car advert."

"Okay. Take your time." Dennis shrugged nonchalantly but inside he was boiling. He kept asking himself over and over again what he was doing with her. She was nothing but an ostentatious strutting lady. She was God damn beautiful, he had to give her that, but her attitude was nothing to write home about. 

As he sat there silently watching her, he unconsciously started comparing her with Joy. Joy wasn't good to look at but she was fun to be with, warm, hardworking, generous, a good cook and fantastic in bed but Yvonne, on the other hand, was strikingly beautiful, boring, a terrible cook--the first time she'd attempted cooking for him after his numerous complains, he'd ended up with a stomach upset for days--and slothful in bed. She didn't like sex and so laid on the bed like a doormat sometimes while he humped and sweated. Amazingly, she was good in house chores.

"Okay, I'm all yours." Her musical voice jolted him out of his reverie as she put aside the Blackberry Passport he'd bought her for her birthday at her request. That was another good thing about Joy. She wasn't demanding. He barely remembered to give her money and he'd never bought her anything. Not even on her birthday. He felt a twinge of guilt at that. The most he did for her was get snacks, suya and soft drinks which they both devoured but she never complained.

"Earth to Dennis. Come in, Dennis." Yvonne waved a slim hand over his handsome face and he pulled himself together.

What was he thinking? To have such a high maintenance girl like Yvonne call him her boyfriend was a dream come true. He was the envy of his friends. Guys envied him whenever they went out together. He enjoyed showing off with her.

"Sorry. Your beautiful face got me trapped in space for a minute," he drawled but she wasn't even moved. Not even a blush. She was used to hearing such, of course! Unlike Joy who smiled shyly whenever he complimented her on her hairdo or attire.

Christ! What was it with him and the thought of Joy these days? He realized with trepidation that she sneaked into his thoughts lately. Must be the s.ex. He was having too much s.ex with her. He had to stop that ASAP.

"What did you cook? I'm starving." Yvonne yawned a little and quickly put a hand across her bow-shaped kissable lips. He got carried away staring at the luscious lips on her oval face, her pointed nose, and sexy cat eyes for some seconds.

He cleared his throat. "Err...your favorite."

Yvonne smiled and he could swear he could hear angels singing. Tall, sexy, light-skinned, hour glass-shaped beauty. And all his. To hell with Joy for now, he thought.

His girlfriend got up and straightened her blood red sequin mini dress which sent bolts of desire to his loins despite the fact that he'd sated himself with Joy the previous night.

Dennis held her hand and made her sit again. As he was about placing his lips on hers, she pushed him roughly away.

"You love s.ex too much. I didn't come here for that. Must we have s.ex every time I come here? I'm starving." With that, she took her beautiful self to the kitchen.

Dennis clenched and unclenched his fists. He stood up and paced the living room in an attempt at controlling his temper. He hadn't seen her in over a month, yet she had the guts to deny him. Was it any wonder he had a side chick?

Her phone buzzed continuously just then and in anger, he picked it. He'd tell her agent she was with her boyfriend and he should back off. It was a BBM message.

WTF!

His eyes bulged when he saw the contents of the message. Unclad pictures of a girl and erotic messages sent by the same girl. He scrolled up and discovered even more erotic messages the girl had exchanged with Yvonne.

His face was a mask of confusion. He raised one of his hands and watched it shake in disbelieving outrage. Absolute outrage paralysed him. Violence shimmered rawly in his brilliant dark stare. Yvonne was a lesbian? But she responded to him in bed. Was she bisexual or was he just a camouflage?

Esther

Esther tightened her body and squirmed like a worm in an effort to push the deep magenta lace gown down her robust thighs. The curvy lady cursed the tailor for the tenth time, forgetting that she'd told the woman to sew the dress one size smaller. She'd thought she'd be able to trim down to one dress size before the time for her course mate's wedding came. And now the dress was a size too tight and had cost her an arm and a leg. Esther stared at her reflection on the long mirror and let out a long hiss. Her boobs were practically pouring out of the dress, she couldn't breathe very well and her distended stomach was complaining bitterly. If she tried forcing the dress down some more, it would get torn. 

Esther had been battling her weight ever since her dad came into money. She was sick and tired of being fat, all thanks to her dad; they'd both become fat when he was able to afford decent food and she'd stuffed herself with junk food she'd always desired to taste. Why hadn't she taken her mother's slim physique instead of her dad's robust one? Of all the things to inherit from one's dad. Gosh! She dieted like crazy yet she was still as fat as ever. Her mother had told her countless times to accept herself the way she was but she didn't want to be like this. Esther wanted to be a size ten at most. She didn't fancy dabbling between sizes fourteen and sixteen which wasn't fat in her mother's estimation. People told her all the time that she was okay and not really fat but her orange cheeks, second drooping chin, watermelon boobs, protruding belly, healthy chicken-like laps told her otherwise. The only things she was grateful to God for were her flawless light skin and her beautiful round face which featured naturally long eyelashes, brown eyes, a pert nose and a mouth shaped like a bow which she pouted perfectly after months of practice before a mirror. She was lucky that her height of five feet seven could carry her weight. 

The angry lady struggled and pulled the dress over her head, taking deep breaths during the difficult process. She threw it angrily on the tiled floor and jumped on it in a childish tantrum. Having let off steam with the exercise, she moved to lie on the big bed and sighed as her mind's eye went through her wardrobe in search of another dress. Esther wanted a dress that wouldn't make her look fat but bring out her assets- her boobs and hips and buttocks which she knew guys loved. The wedding was two hours away, so she had enough time to play dress up. She was determined to go for the wedding. Where else could she get a variety of guys who might be 'the one' waiting for her at the altar? It was her New Year's resolution to get married that year, by hook or crook. All her friends, excluding one, were married. It was a grave insult to her, seeing that she was even the prettiest of the five friends. Only losers came her way-- broke a.ss niggas and rich cheating b.astards. She wasn't ready to suffer one bit. This was the twenty first century for crying out loud! Suffering with your husband ended in her mother's era. Little wonder her mother's advice fell on deaf ears. 

The young lady wanted to marry a rich man at all cost. Her younger and only sister had married a London-based Nigerian three years ago. If she couldn't marry one based outside the country, she'd marry a very rich one based here in Nigeria. Her father wasn't wealthy by any standard and her family had always strove for the basic necessities of life-- food, clothing, shelter and education e.t.c. Jealousy had always been her portion in her undergraduate days when she saw the quality of clothes and jewellery on her fellow students. She didn't fancy the aristo business; else she would have joined just to belong. She'd thrown herself at all the rich guys on campus to no avail. They were all cheating b.astards.

She got up from the bed and moved to her travel bag beside it to bring out a heap of clothes. She was sorting through the clothes when she heard her Blackberry ring on the bed. She stretched her hand for it and hissed when she saw who the caller was. Donald, Loser Number Fourteen. She wondered if there was something about her that attracted losers. Was there a sign on her forehead which said, ‘Losers, this way’? 

Esther had gone out on a date with the said loser some nights ago and had ended up paying for their meal when the loser came up with a cock and bull story that a child could dissect about his wallet being stolen. She hadn't said a word but thanked her stars that she'd come out with money she'd intended to use to buy groceries on her way back home. And the f.ool still had the guts to call her. Pausing in her search for the perfect dress, Esther joyfully sent him an abusive text message and felt better. It reminded her of another sorry story of her life where she'd given her body, soul and everything to Charles, thinking he was the owner of a mansion and four rides, only for his elder brother to come back from London with his family to claim them. Charles was just a jobless liar. She bit her bottom lip in anger. It had made her very cautious. 

A few minutes later, her mobile phone rang again and the irate lady sighed. Was today losers-calling day? Paul, her very first boyfriend and lover since her first year in the university was the one calling. She'd broken up with him in her third year when she comprehended what she wanted in life-- a wealthy husband. Paul wasn't bad to look at but he was poor; a secondary school teacher. Even though he had a first class degree in Mathematics, he couldn't find himself a decent job. Esther agreed that she'd once loved him with her whole heart but seriously, na love she go chop? She was just being real but Paul refused to get the message. He kept on disturbing her, begging her that things would get better. She was tired of that same old story. Truly the guy loved her. He'd resisted her rebuffs for over three years now, fighting tooth and nail to get her back. Frankly, Esther didn't want to hurt him because Paul was really a nice guy and given the right circumstances, she could love him again but that was only if he hit a jackpot or something. There was no way she was going to live on a teacher's salary, a private school teacher at that. Poverty wasn't going to locate her again. Been there, done that.

Esther hastily told him she'd call him back which was a lie. She never wasted her airtime on fruitless guys. If he really wanted to talk to her, he'd have to call back much later. She had a man-search ahead of her.

An hour later, Esther, dressed in a lilac silk gown which showed off her curves surveyed her image in the mirror with a critical eye. She'd have to go on a diet again. It was so difficult for her to lose weight. Herbal tea made her feel sick and she fainted from exertion anytime she went to a gym or exercised. She'd just have to cut back on the carbs, chocolates and late night meals.

Suddenly conscious that she had been unseeingly staring into the mirror for longer than she dared contemplate, she blinked rapidly and dragged in a deep breath, noting with both approval and vanity that the sleekly styled lilac silk dress she was wearing made her look coolly sophisticated, the deeply slashed V neckline emphasising the robustness of her busts, the hemline-just above her knees-performing the same service for her legs.

Esther gingered herself up by telling herself that today was the day she'd meet her future husband. She put on her black three-inch heels and combed her long weave. Taking quick steps, she left the small flat which she shared with a friend of hers. With cool shades shielding her eyes from the early morning sun, she headed for the church service with the intention of getting there early to check out the guys coming into the church.

Five hours later, shoes in her hand, Esther angrily pushed her door open. She flung her black handbag on the bed and stormed to the small kitchen to fix herself a meal of indomie noodles and eggs. She was starving. She'd expected to eat at the reception but she'd picked a fight with one of the serving girls and got put on the back burner. To add insult to injury, she'd not being able to catch the eye of any reasonable guy there. Most of them had come with their own ladies. Who brings sand to the beach? She asked inwardly. Esther was furious to say the least.

Still on the lilac silk gown, she set the plate of hungry man packet of cooked indomie noodles and two eggs on the pink and white squared-pattern carpet and went to the mini fridge to get a bottle of 70cl Fanta, her plan of dieting obviously forgotten due to her ire. 

She'd just taken about three forks-full of her meal when her roommate, Tina burst into the room. Startled, Esther dropped her fork carelessly, spilling some strings of noodles on the carpet.

Tina, a very tall and slim dark-skinned girl with passing beauty danced into the small room. Tina, like her, was also partaking of the Masters degree programme. They'd met during their degree days and had decided to rent a room together when they both got the M.Sc. admission to study the same course at the same university. They'd only been able to find a self-contained flat close to the campus. They took turns in cooking and cleaning. They portioned a part of the room for their clothes which hung in an untidy manner on the wooden hangar. The two friends also contributed money to get the electronics and appliances that graced the room.

Esther didn't particularly like Tina but she was okay with her since she did her share of the chores and was also single like her, though Tina had an on and off boyfriend. Since she was more beautiful, Esther didn't think Tina stood a chance in getting married before her.

"Wetin dey worry dis one?" Esther was pissed that her meal had been interrupted. She picked up her cutlery and resumed eating while Tina continued dancing. Tina had travelled to see her boyfriend in another state two days earlier.

"Guess what?" Tina quickly knelt beside her friend with her hands behind her after she'd dropped her small travel bag.

Esther eyed her and took a sip from her drink. Tina, still smiling like a cat that’d licked clean a bowl of milk, removed her left hand from her back and extended it to her friend to examine the gold ring with a diamond nose on her third finger.

"I'm engaged," she yelled with excitement.

Esther's fork dropped with a clang for the second time in minutes and her jaw dropped as well, as her bulging eyes beheld the ring.

"It was so romantic. He took me out to dinner in this expensive restaurant the night before. When I was doing his laundry the following morning, I felt something in his trouser pocket because I usually turn his clothes inside out before washing and there lay this beautiful ring. I didn't even know he was standing behind me. He popped the question and I went crazy. We're getting married immediately I'm through with my Masters programme. This is so amazing. I never thought..." Tina rattled on but Esther was no longer listening to her.

This was the worst thing to crown an already miserable day in her miserable life. Envy moved from her heart to her eyes and she was sure if Tina looked closely, she'd see green flashes there. Why was life cruel to her? She hadn't even known Tina and her boyfriend were going steady again. So steady he'd proposed to her! What was wrong with her? Why couldn't someone propose to her for her to even reject? The losers who hung around her couldn't even do that. All they wanted from her was sex. It wasn't as if she was bad looking. How could someone want to marry Tina? Tina who looked like an ostrich? She had swollen n.ipples for b.reasts and snored at night. Had the guy never slept on the same bed with her? Her legs were so thin; they could be used to play the violin. Tina had told her of her sexual exploits.  She knew Tina was no virgin. Indeed, she was rather free with her favours and not noticeably faithful.

The recently engaged lady finally discerned in her ramblings that her friend was quiet and looked lost in thought.

"Esther, what's the problem? Aren't you happy for me?" Tina asked.

Esther snapped out of her musings and put on a fake smile. "Of course, I'm happy for you. Congrats o!" She stretched forth her hands and hugged her friend, and made faces at her back as well.

"Please, you have to join me in planning. We'll be through with our Masters programme six months from now. He wants to go and meet my parents next month for us to fix a date for the introduction."

Esther continued eating her food which had gone cold by then and rolled her eyes. "Introduction?” She put down her cutlery and faced her roommate. “Wait Tina, don't you think you're rushing things?"

Tina laughed in amazement and sat on the carpet beside her friend. "Rushing things? Babe, I'm thirty-one years old. James and I have been dating on and off for three years now. I'm not rushing things abeg."

"Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you o!" Esther rolled her eyes again. 

Tina was crestfallen. "What's the problem, Esther? Why are you making me feel as if you're not happy for me?"

Esther quickly raised her hands in mock surrender. "Please o!" she pouted. "I'm happy for you o! I'm not jealous of you. All I'm saying is that you can do better than James. How much does he earn? Does he have a car? Does he have a house? Can he take care of you? Girl, shine your eyes o! Marriage na lifetime thing except you no mind divorce. Don't mind your age. Wait for a better man. A man who can take good care of you." She picked her cutlery again.

Tina hissed and got up. "Money isn't everything, Esther. James has a bright future ahead of him. He might not be earning much now but he's a very hardworking guy. Besides, I intend working also, so I don't need him to pay all our bills. If I'm waiting for a guy to pay my bills when I have a degree and I'm now fighting to get my Masters degree, then it means I wasted my parents' money."

Esther laughed sarcastically, clapped her hands and looked up at her friend. "Okay o, Saint Tina. As for me, I'm not going to marry any cheapskate. My younger sister is presently in London living it up. So I can't fall below that standard. My own guy most be loaded to the teeth. I no get time for abeg-join-me-hustle kinda guys."

Tina shook her head. She'd always known her friend to be money-minded but not up to this gold digger level. Esther had not thought of the fact that she was thirty years old. She was still selecting guys like fabrics in the market place. Tina felt sorry for her. While James wasn't a millionaire or earning six figures in a year, not to talk of in a month, she knew he had very good plans for their future and was slowly making his way up the ladder in the organization he worked for. Esther was probably jealous. With all her selectiveness, she couldn't even boast of a boyfriend.

Tina used her ringed finger to push back her long braids, which had fallen on her face. "Well, we're not all destined to marry rich men. Some of us are destined to grow with our husbands into riches. I love James. I don't want to be with a man who’d regard me as just another addition to his list of properties. Hope you know how Sylvia's in-laws are treating her. They call her and her family church rats and gold diggers at every turn."

Esther scoffed. "But she's riding a Range Rover Sport. She had her Christmas holiday in Cleveland last year. She doesn't wear a dress twice in a whole year. What the hell are you talking about?" Esther slung at her with biting derision.

Tina clicked her tongue. "Money isn't everything."

Esther frowned. "Says who? Where you not here when Gloria came to beg us to loan her some money in order for her broke-a.ss husband to pay their house rent? I warned her not to marry him but she didn't listen. She was sprouting this same nonsense. What's love without money? Now she regrets marrying him because she's suffering like mad."

Tina paused then and gathered her thoughts before looking down at her friend who had a look of scorn plastered on her face. "Esther, rain does not fall on one roof only. Some ladies married poor or middleclass men and are miserable with them. Some ladies who married rich men are miserable too. While some ladies married poor or middleclass men and are happy, so also some ladies who married rich men are happy. Different strokes for different folks.” She sighed and sat beside her non-listening roommate again. “What if after getting married to a wealthy man, some tragedy befalls him and he loses his wealth, would you leave him?"

"At the drop of a hat. There are many fishes in the sea, my dear." Esther smiled.

Tina shook her head slowly. "Please don't marry the wrong person in the name of money. Please. Marry a man for who he is and not what he has. What if he's a woman beater?"

"Make-up will cover the bruises"

"What if he's terrible in bed?"

"I'd play away matches."

"Ugly as sin?"

"There's something called plastic surgery."

"A ritualist?"

Esther made a circular motion around her head with her hand and snapped her fingers. "God forbid! Which kain question be that?"

Tina shrugged. "Sorry. I'm just trying to make you see things."

Esther shrugged nonchalantly and resumed focus on her meal. "Don't worry, I've seen things. And they come in dollars, euros and pound sterlings."

Tina had to laugh in spite of the situation. She decided to always say a prayer for her friend, in order for her not to marry the wrong guy and for her to see that money wasn't everything. She thanked God for James in her life. She believed she'd have a fulfilled life with him, God willing.

She threw up her hands in defeat. "I give up. I pray you don't bite off more than you can chew someday. I’m off to the rest room." She rose and few steps took her there.

"Babe, you know I'm right. You're just trying to play the devil's advocate," Esther countered with a wave of her hand. She'd never told her friend her life's history simply because she didn't want pity and being looked down on.

At the door, Tina halted and turned around. "How was the wedding? You didn't bring rice or even cake for me?"

Esther eyed her. "I see rice and cake naim I dey chop dis cold indomie. Please don't get on my last nerve."

Tina burst into laughter, opened the door to the rest room and shut it quietly behind her.

PHCN restored power at that moment and in delight, Esther quickly went to put on the television and DVD player to continue watching the Scandal series. She paused when she got to the electric sockets.

So Tina was going to get married before her, she thought. Even though she was getting married to a loser, at least she was getting married. When would her own time come? Was she chasing shadows in seeking to marry a wealthy man? She didn't want to be like her mother who suffered poverty with their father before things looked up for them. She didn't want her children to suffer the way she had suffered with her siblings. She wanted a wedding that would be the talk of the town. But, would that ever be? She was thirty years old and even though she tried to deny it, it was already showing on her body and face. Being slightly overweight even made her look older. 

Tears smarted in her eyes then but she quickly sniffed them away when she heard Tina flush the toilet. By the time her friend came into the room, she was munching away on her cold meal and looking intently at the television even though her mind was miles away.

CHAPTER ONE

Joy

The rays of the sun streamed into the room through the window. Its warm texture caressed the spotted face of the girl on the bed. She stirred in her sleep and moaned a little. [b][/b]Turning slightly, the young lady came in contact with another body on the four poster bed. Her eyes flicked open. Her senses slowly got together and she realized where she was.

Joy groaned the instant everything came back to her. She'd done it again. She'd fallen for his charms again and ended up as his bottom b*itch again. The disappointed lady gently moved away from her slumbering companion. Throwing both arms in the air, she stretched her stiff body and yawned. In the glory of her unclothedness, she pushed the sheet aside and sat up. Her eyes navigated the room and she wished for the umpteenth time that it was her permanent abode. The azure and white ship-shaped clock on the wall showed it was some minutes after the hour of eight. Careful not to awaken her sleeping companion, she got out of the bed. Her bare feet hit the sky-blue rubber rug and her eyes roamed the room again in search of her clothes.

Moving her slim, five feet three frame to the bedroom door where her clothes laid strewn with that of the sleeping man on the bed, her colour heightened in remembrance of how they'd hurriedly taken them off. She cringed at the intimate images teeming in her memory banks. Still buck n.aked, she tiptoed to the adjoining door that led to the bathroom. In there, she stared at her face in the mirror. As always she wanted to break the reflecting piece into fragments. 

Where had she been when God was sharing beauty? What had she done to God to create her with the gift of ugliness? Joy felt terrible as usual staring at her reflection in the mirror because what came back to her was an oblong faced girl with big eyes, very full lips that would shame Angelina Jolie's, a broad nose and acne spots all over the fair face. She'd tried almost all the facial creams on the surface of the earth in a frantic bid to clear her face and make it look smooth and supple but the spots were ever so obstinate. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. It wasn't fair that she looked this way. She would have sold her soul at that moment to have the looks to attract a male of Dennis's calibre. But she had no expectation of such a miracle taking place. The fact that she had a workable shape made no difference to her. Facial beauty was everything. Tears burned her lowered eyelids and she fought them back bitterly.

Joy abruptly turned away from the mirror above the wash basin and sat on the water closet beside it as she allowed urine to flow from her bladder into the porcelain bowl. Staring at the bathtub, she wondered if she could take a quick bath before going home, despite the fact that she didn't bring a change of clothes with her. She hadn't intended spending the night. Cleaning, cooking, washing had been the only thing on her mind when she'd come there the previous day, but who was she kidding? Dennis's touch was irresistible. Just a slight caress from him and she'd turn putty in his hands, ready to melt like butter. But it wasn't right. She shook her head. It just wasn't right. She knew she was his side chick. More than a side chick though. She was his dogsbody and his regular lay but she couldn't help it.  Before him had been no one. Guys didn't date ugly girls. They just wanted them for sex. She'd resisted them in all shapes and sizes but when she met Dennis, she knew she'd come to her bus stop of resistance and had offered him her virginity. 

The man in question was more than cute. He was nice and charming as well. Joy was indifferent to the fact that he was also successful because she really wasn't after his money. She just wanted a man who would love her. Discovering that she was just a side chick to him had been devastating but for the life of her, she couldn't let him go. She'd been dating him or better put, side-chicking him for over a year now, hoping against all odds that he'd come to love her and propose to her but she knew she was living in a dream world, a fool’s paradise. His main chick was a goddess. A beautiful model who had guys falling at her feet and running to do her bidding. 

Dennis thought she didn't know. He always went out of his way to make her oblivious of his main chick's visits to the house. He'd told her the night before that he would be going for a seminar the following day. The corporate security outfit he worked for, where he was their systems analyst, was sending him and another colleague to another state for a seminar. But it was 8am and he was still in bed. Or maybe he knew she knew about his main chick but just didn't care. 

Joy got up and flushed the toilet. She put on the tap from the wash basin and washed her face with the warm water that poured forth from it. She squeezed a small portion from the toothpaste in the cabinet beside the mirror and finger-brushed her teeth with it. Done cleaning up and finger-combing her naturally long hair which she neatly packed in a bun at her nape, she put on her blue jean, her baby pink bra, and her burgundy and black tank top. There was no need putting on her soiled panties. Just looking at Dennis alone sometimes got her to wet them.

Dennis was still in dreamland when she entered the room. He was now lying on his back with one arm stretched towards the headboard and the sheet barely covering his loins. Desire licked through her veins at the erotic sight. She told herself to snap out of it. If he woke up to grasp that she hadn't gone, he would be mad. He was very nice to her but there were times when he was unfair as well. He never took her out. The utmost he did was buy her stuff like suya (grilled steak), snacks and soft drinks on his way back from work. He made sure it was dark whenever they went out for a stroll or a drive in his car. Dennis had told her to leave the house only when it was dark but in situations like last night, when marathon sex had intervened, he wanted her out of the house before dawn. She'd never met any of his friends even though he had like a couple of them. It hurt like hell for her to know that he never wanted to be seen with her in public or in broad daylight but half bread was definitely better than none or even buns. 

Joy tiptoed to the bed to get one last look at him to last her till the following weekend because according to him, they couldn't see each other during week days because of his hectic job. They only hung out at weekends when she came to do the cleaning, cooking, washing, and of course, bed warming.  There were times when she felt as if she was chasing her tail.

Dennis was a six-feet-one-inch tall, dark and handsome guy. Everything about him was perfect, from his well-structured face which featured black and intelligent eyes, average-sized nose, cute mouth and kissable lips. He kept beards which made him look more sexy. His well-toned, muscular physique was to die for. The only flaws he had were his slight bow-leg which he laughed about sometimes and imperfect dentition. Meeting and dating him was a dream come true. Her mouth ran dry at ogling him. No matter how hard she tried not to react to him, she always failed woefully. He was so gorgeous, from the crown of his proud, dark head to the soles of his bare dark feet, and she loved him as she had never known she could love anybody

With a sigh, Joy left the masculinely furnished bedroom, passed the narrow hallway accommodating two doors that led to two other rooms and entered the living room. She went to kitchen adjoining the dining area and quickly did the dishes and cleaned up the place. Joy wondered if she should make him breakfast but thought against it. She packaged the left over soup in a transparent plastic container with a cover and placed it in the double-door Thermocool refrigerator. She looked round the kitchen. Everything was clean and neat. The marble floor was freshly mopped. The counter and the sink were shining from her vim scrubbing the evening before. The pots and utensils which hung on one side of the kitchen wall were all clean. 

Joy went back to the living room to quickly dust and clean the plasma television, the home theatre system, the case that contained a selection of DVDs, the DVD player and the DSTV decoder. That done, she moved to the almond and blizzard-blue pyramid patterned sofa and chairs and cleaned them as well before taking another clean rag to scrub a stain off the wheat coloured rug. She was like a hound after a scent of blood. Her eyes took in the entire living room and the corners of her lips lifted in a smile. She was satisfied with her work. Cooking and cleaning were hobbies of hers. 

Joy pushed aside the heavy curtains and unlocked the wooden door. After shutting it behind her, she walked quietly to the gate and let herself out of the compound, but not before she went to put Dennis's Doberman aptly named 'Devil' in his cage at the backyard. He was as big as a horse and as dark as night. The compound consisted of two three-bedroom flats. Dennis's neighbour was away in the U.S. but Joy was acting as the caretaker to the flat. Dennis had rented his flat with a couple of his friends but they’d moved out when they’d gotten their own place.

The sun had taken on intensity, so she shielded her eyes with her hand and tried to see if she could get a Keke Napep (tricycle) to her house. Her house was at the other side of town and she didn't want to walk till she got a means of transportation. Walking always made her think of her miserable life and she didn't want that this sunny and beautiful morning.  But as there was no Keke Napep in sight, Joy decided to walk down the semi-busy street. She finally got one after walking and thinking for ten minutes and it took her to the junction of her street.  The aroma of akara (bean balls) filled her nostrils when she alighted from the tricycle. Joy knew she just had to pause to buy some. The gossip of a woman who was the maker and seller of the delicious snack said nothing but her eyes took in her appearance and she sighed as she handed Joy the bean balls. Joy didn't care. She'd gone past caring about what their street gossip thought of her. 

Walking slowly down the quiet street, the young lady entered her compound through the seen-better-days gate. Joy greeted her neighbours whom she met on the stairs to her own apartment. It was a run-down four-storey building with eight flats. Hers was on the third floor. Joy was glad Dennis had never asked to know her house. The terrible state of the building would shame even a monk.

She didn't bother knocking when she got to the two-bedroom flat she shared with her mother. It was a Saturday, so her mother would still be reclining on her bed. She groaned inwardly at the lecture her mother was sure to give her. It was a bad thing that she'd overslept. Pushing the noisy iron door open, she entered their small living room. It wasn't luxurious like that of Dennis but it was home and the rent was fair. She was about tiptoeing to her room which was situated at the left-hand side of the living room when her mother came out of her own room which was to the right, close to the front door. 

"Good morning, Madam." Her mother's clear voice rang out.

Joy paused and turned around. Her mother on a white cotton nightgown with a colourful wrapper tied around her chest was frowning at her by the door. Joy was a replica of her mother, in height and everything, even in acne.

"Good morning, Mummy," Joy answered and looked shame-faced.

Her mother strolled into the living room and sat on one of the battered chairs that had once been teal green. It had ancient written all over it.

It was another lecture hour. She slowly made her way to one of the chairs facing her mother.

"Joy, is this how you want to live your life?" her mother questioned and Joy winced. Her gene provider drew forward in her chair. "I've been there, Joy. He's not going to marry you. You're only making a fool of yourself, my dear. He's still going to marry that beautiful and rich lady no matter the quality and quantity of sex you give him."

Joy fixed her gaze on the tiles in embarrassment. Those censorious words had cut the ground from under her feet. She didn't know what to say. They'd had this conversation a number of times.

"Darling, you're not playing with a full deck. It was exactly like this with your father. But where is he now? Do you even know who he is? You don't because I was foolish enough to think that getting pregnant for him would get him to marry me but I was wrong, dead wrong. He still went ahead to marry his beauty queen after telling me it was over between us and I should have an abortion. Please, my darling child, don't make the same mistake I made. Please don't be a tree that doesn't move unless there is wind."

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Joy thought. She didn't tell the forlorn woman that she didn't even have a chance in hell of getting pregnant for Dennis because he never faulted in using protection. Even during a quickie. Sometimes, he even doubled it.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she glanced at the woman who had given birth to her. "But I love him."

Her mother shook her head slowly with a rueful look on her face. "Love is only going to hurt you. Does he love you?"

Joy's tears dropped then. "How can he love an ugly girl?"

Her mother's breath caught sharply but Joy continued, "How can he love an ugly twenty-eight-year-old primary school teacher with only a National Diploma for a degree when he's a handsome thirty-two-year-old successful Systems Analyst with an M. Sc.? How? Tell me?"

The middle-aged woman got up and held her daughter as she sobbed. She'd always known her daughter had self-esteem issues but this was the very first time in their discussion about the guy who was using her as a slave that she had ever called herself ugly instead of her usual agreement with her mother.

Joy wondered why she was crying. But she knew. She was usually a mess whenever Dennis's main girlfriend came visiting. There was always a slight change in him after the visit. It was as if at such times he'd ask himself what he was doing with her when he had such a beauty. He was always withdrawn. She dreaded the day he would tell her it was over.

And now, she was causing her mother worry by voicing out her inner inhibitions. She'd never for once in her twenty-eight years on earth told her mother she felt ugly, simply because she was a carbon copy of her mother. She didn't want to hurt the good woman's feelings by indirectly calling her ugly.

"You are not ugly, Joy. Please don't ever say that again. Your eyes and lips might be slightly too big like mine and you might have spots all over your face but you're not ugly. You're beautifully and wonderfully made by an awesome God. Never forget that." Her mother sniffed back her tears too. She'd had these same feelings all her life but it hurt that her daughter was going through the same thing as well. It hurt even more because her daughter was a complete wife material as they say. She was hardworking, loved helping people and was very generous with even the little she had. But she had never had a serious boyfriend except for the slave driver she was presently with. People looked at their faces instead of what they had inside. Men went about marrying beautiful but empty ladies while rare gems like them were treated like outcasts. 

"It's okay, Mummy. I'm okay now. I was just a little emotional. Maybe my period is approaching." Joy sniffed.

Ms. Elizabeth looked at her daughter. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mummy." Joy sniffed again and got up, forcing her mother to withdraw her hands and step back. "I need to go and take my bath. I'll come out soon and help you with chores," she informed her mother.

"Okay, dear. Don’t sell yourself short. And please, please, do away with that guy before he breaks your heart into fragments. The death that will kill a man begins as an appetite."

Joy was already drifting to the door of her room. She turned back for a second, nodded and smiled a little before opening the door.

ISBN 978-1515269854

WAITING FOR THE BOUQUET

Copyright © 2015 by Audrey Timms.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Audrey Timms, audreytimms83@gmail.com, www.audreytimms.com

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the author in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.



Disclaimer

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.



Author's Note

When I started writing this story, I used Nigerian names encompassing the major tribes we have in this country and some tribes with emblematic behaviours towards marriage (my own tribe included), but when I gave it out to some specific readers to read and critique, I was informed that some people might find it prejudiced. So I decided to go all foreign with the names of the major characters because I don’t want people to miss the messages I’m trying to pass across and I also don’t want to offend sensibilities.



Secondly, the events that took place in the lives of the major characters all happened at different times.



Lastly, this is by far the shortest story I’ve ever written. I kept suppressing the urge to elongate it and add numerous twists and more characters because it was a novella I had in mind when the story chose me to write it.



I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.



Audrey Timms




WAITING FOR THE BOUQUET

It’s the norm nowadays for ladies to start thinking of marriage once they hit their 20s. Some wait patiently for Mr. Right, while some go out of their way to get ‘that ring’ on their fingers.

Waiting for the Bouquet is a story that cuts across different personalities of ‘marriageable’ ages going through a process before marriage. Lies, pretence, lust, anger, greed, secrets, love, and so much more are embedded in these spell-binding stories of ladies waiting for the bouquet.
 






Joy- "How can he love an ugly twenty-eight-year-old primary school teacher with only a National Diploma for a degree when he's a handsome thirty-two-year-old successful Systems Analyst with an M. Sc.? How? Tell me?"



Esther- "Okay o, Saint Tina. As for me, I'm not going to marry any cheapskate. My younger sister is presently in London living it up. So I can't fall below that standard. My own guy must be loaded to the teeth. I no get time for abeg-join-me-hustle kinda guys."



Annabel- "Love?" Sarcasm reeked out of her short laugh. "Love is a mirage. There's absolutely nothing like that. Had my dad loved my mum, he wouldn't have cheated on her. My mum is still with my dad because of some personal reasons. There's nowhere to go, she doesn't want her family to be justified when they hear she left him, and also because of us, her kids. A lot of women remain in unhappy marriages simply because of their kids. To save myself all that nauseating drama, I'm never going to get married."



Dennis- Dennis wondered who he'd take home to his dad. The homely, good-in-bed, great cook, domestic and fun-to-be with Joy or the stunning, poor-in-bed, terrible cook, slothful and boring Yvonne? Could he stand in church and look into Joy's big eyes to say 'I do' or Yvonne's sexy ones?



Yvonne- Yvonne's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Why was he laughing? He was probably chatting with a girl. A side chick? Her eyes flashed fire. He dare not dump her for another girl. No one had ever dumped her before and it wouldn't start now. She had to get to the bottom of her boyfriend’s obvious joy.



Alex- Alex slammed the door shut and watched as the car shot out of the compound on an angry, full-throated snarl. He was getting drenched by the rain but he didn't even mind. His mind was racing in kilometres. Would the fact that she was a year older than him deter him from his pursuit of taming her? Wasn't he biting more than he could chew? He shook his head. Time would tell. One thing he was however certain of was that Annabel would be a better person by the time they parted ways.

eliok:
check ur inbox cover sample sent

Received. Thanks

HumbledbYGrace:
awesome, never been better and you?

I'm good

Titles- Twisted
Letting Go

Email address- dianaokhah@yahoo.com

Name- Audrey Timms

Thanks for the info, Repo.

HumbledByGrace, how far na? Been awhile