Things had been awkward between Kiki and me in the house. Since we had sex, I had been looking for an opportunity to bring up the issue with her, but had been unable to.
She had been acting like nothing happened between us. When I stare at her, trying to force a reaction, she would smile at me as if saying ‘why are you looking at me like that’.
Once she was peeling yam in the kitchen, I tried hugging her from behind, she shoved me off without a word.
“Kiki, you know we will have to talk about what happened?” I said, because it was driving me crazy.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied.
I went back to my room and tried playing the entire scene in my head, I remembered exploding my cum on her butt cheek, I remembered how she lay in bed, chest down, legs spread apart as I sneaked out of her room and back to mine. I remembered not wanting to clean myself up, because I wanted her smell to linger for a while.
Was it all an imagination…was I running mad?
Then I ran the tip of my finger on a scar across my chest, where her teeth mark was still visible, for she had bitten me when I had plunged too deep.
I was therefore glad when she left the house for some days to visit her folks.
Abibia and I met at Oshodi on a very sunny Monday, it was some weeks after our exams and though we met once in a while, I was already giving up on having her. My feelings for her were getting worse though. It hurt that she never stopped talking about her boyfriend called Dapo. Every time, Dapo this….Dapo that. Every time the ache for her became unbearable, I visited Ene and prophesized my fluctuating love towards her. The sex with Ene was a temporary fix. I wondered if I was a player. I wondered if I was like Bauchi, I wondered if cheating on people who held you dear brought a curse.
The more I thought of my past, the more I remembered all the male visitors that visited my mum whenever my dad was out hustling. I remember she would give my sister and I some money to buy sweets so we could leave the house.
Did my dad fucck the neighbour’s wife as my mum had accused?
Those were some of the thoughts that crossed my mind as I watched Abibia walk towards me. Damn! She was beautiful.
While Oge had the kind of beauty that made me want to hug her, Abibia had the kind of beauty that made me want to have her, in all the ways possible. She represented what I had dreamt of; she was from the kind of background that I had fantasized about.
“Sorry I kept you waiting, I was delayed by that rubbish boy!” she said wearing a blue top and a black jean. She had brown shades on.
“I just came myself,” I lied.
There was no need telling her that I had been waiting for her beneath the bridge for a while.
I know she wanted me to ask her about the rubbish boy, but I wouldn’t fall into the trap. Today, Dapo wouldn’t be mentioned.
“ Why did you choose this place for us to meet?” I asked her, as the melodious tunes of recharge card sellers, Gala sellers and sachet water waxed with conductors shouting ‘Agege’.. ‘Egbeda’….’Iyana….’
“There is something I like to do; I didn’t want to do it alone today”.
“What is it?”
“Patience, young man!”
We stood beneath the bridge, I offered her Viju milk but she declined. She said it tasted like the sperm of a diabetic patient. I wondered if Dapo was diabetic.
The distinct sound of an oncoming train, the sound was deafening as it came closer, there was a large chunk of eggroll in my mouth when she said ‘Our ride has arrived’.
“We came here to get on a train?”
She moved closer to where the train docked and passengers with Oshodi was their destination disembarked.
“Where are we actually going to?” I asked.
“You ask too many questions,” she replied.
People started getting into the train as it let out loud honks, signaling its intention to leave.
“Now, we go to the door of the economy class and hold on to the ledge. Don’t let anybody push you away from your position.”
“If you are broke, I have some money, we can pay for seats,” I said, alarmed.
The train was about to move when we jumped on. I held the ledge of the door which was left ajar like she did. I noticed a lot of people climbing to the roof of the train and other unconventional places, just to evade paying their fare.
The train started moving, slowly at first, then it picked pace. Hard wind pressed against my face as we moved, passing Ikeja under bridge. We faced each other, her left hand and my right hand above her head. They were the only hold we had to the train, we couldn’t afford to let go off the grip.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“I am scared, my heart is beating,” I admitted.
There was joy twinkling in her eyes.
“That is the reason why I come here. I like the fear, I like how my heart beats against my chest, I like being at the edge between life and death.”
“You are very weird, you know?”
“Isn’t that why you adore me?”
“Who says I adore you?”
“Well I don’t anymore!”
We both laughed. The train was moving faster than I thought a train ever moved and the fear I felt increased.
“Fifi, I have to tell you what Dapo did. I know you don’t want to listen but please listen.”
How ironic it would be if Dapo’s gist was the last I heard before I fell to my death.
“I am listening.”
To Be Continued