Chapter three

𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒚 𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒊

Chapter three

𝟖:𝟏𝟓 𝐚𝐦

MS. DIDEOLU bites down on her lips, clutches the birthday card in her hands as she forces her limbs to relax but it's difficult to do that now, especially today of all days; Lola's birthday.

Even though Lola isn't home to see this, she'd come home to find the card, and that thought alone makes her chest burn and heart hit her chest so hard. It's been six years since she got Lola a birthday gift. So long she held her little girl, told her how special she is.

She stopped loving Lola.

But there was a reason for it. Losing a child is like losing a piece of you and no matter the front you put on for the world, inside, you are dying. Lola killed that part of her when Demola died. Now, she must move on. 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕.

"Lola is all that matters now," Ayo had told her yesterday after witnessing their argument. "She needs you."

She had scolded Lola for staying out late and tried to make her call her father back home in Nigeria. But Lola was so mad, so mad, Ms. Dideolu had to take control of the situation and be the adult. She threatened to kick Lola out.

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕.

Ms. Dideolu breathes in and sighs, then trudges into Lola's room and is greeted with total emptiness, and a strong musky odor.

𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒔? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎? Ms. Dideolu inspects the room, her eyes here and there. The room is an alluring shade of pink which always looked so feminine with the white bedspread and the fluffy stuffed animals. But Lola changed the sheets to black, and threw out the stuffed animal just two months back. When Ms. Dideolu queried her, everything turned into another messy argument.

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒈𝒐? Lola loved those posters; she never stopped buying more. 𝑺𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇?

She turns, scanning everywhere. On the right side of the room—next to the bed—are boxes filled with what? Her things?

Ms. Dideolu marches towards the boxes; the boxes all have clothes in them.

Her shoe rack is empty too. 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏?

Everything is in place but not in a way she would want it to be. She doesn't want her daughter's clothes in boxes, she wants it arranged in the closet.

Lola never tidies her room without been told, but now, every corner in this room is neat. 𝑰𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒍𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒕? 𝑰𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇𝒇?

Ms. Dideolu frowns, kissing her teeth, she inspects the surroundings again then pulls the drawers. Lola's makeup kit is in place, although she hasn't been using it for over a month now. So much has changed about her. So much.

"At least she's neater now," Ms. Dideolu says.

People can be better, just like Lola's father who wants to make things right again. The same way she is willing to make things right with Lola.

Lola is not going anywhere because everything will get better. 'Sorry' has healed so many broken hearts, mended broken homes, and settled disputes for ages. 𝑯𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒊𝒕? An apology will make it right. If she demands answers from her, it might push her farther away. 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕... 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓.

The bed squeaks as Ms. Dideolu drops on the bed, a sad smile curves up the corners of her mouth. She runs her fingers over the coarse, glitter letterings on the birthday card. "I hope you'll like it, " she says. Her daughter used to love shiny and colorful things and this card feels right.

Ms. Dideolu places the card next to her, deciding to send a text to Lola. 'Happy birthday, Lola. Please, call your father.'

𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒚 𝑩.𝒐.𝑩

𝟖:𝟏𝟓 𝐚𝐦

If Ayo finds out how much I want to harm Seun, he would understand why we can't be friends. But the thing is, I don't have what it takes neither can I hurt a fly. I'm a scared chicken and even though I've been getting tons of crazy ideas, Seun will live. I can't kill the boy.

Still, Ayo shouldn't try to be my friend. It's pointless.

I clench my fists, burst right outside the classroom towards my locker, but stop when I notice principal Ellen pacing, and the janitor wiping at my locker.

Principal Ellen's face is almost the shade of a tomato and I can't tell if she's mad at the perpetrators or at me for not reporting. My heart pounds faster like the fists of a thousand zombies trying to get to their precious brains.

"They keep giving this school a bad name," she fumes, crossing and uncrossing her arms. "How else can I get them to behave?!"

The scruffy, middle-aged janitor says nothing. He wipes off the last bit on my locker then staggers away with principal Ellen following behind.

𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒚? It's funny, really. If I reported John, she'll find out he planned this whole prank with Seun, and then what? A slap on the wrist. She'll scream and let him go. The boy's lucky, thanks to his 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚, no doubt.

I've got a few seconds to go from here to the exit to avoid running into the school guards.

The janitor's room would've been a great escape route since it leads directly to the stadium but the man locks it always. Besides, he just left for his office, so it's a bad idea.

I cut across the hall towards the store room where the school keeps costumes for stage plays and other random school stuff. It's the perfect place for smoking and another escape route; kids love this place for other things too.

I let out the huge breath I've been holding as I open the door, stepping into the musty, dusty room. It's empty, almost dark and quiet now, only voices from teachers and kids chatting from the classrooms wafts into my ears. But I wish I could hear running footsteps. It's stupid to want something like that. I want Ayo coming after me and at the same time, I need him to stay far away from me. It's confusing.

I look over my shoulder. Nothing. I'm alone again and Ayo isn't coming. My shoulders fall, my chin dips and something drops in the pit of my stomach.

𝑭𝒐𝒄𝒖𝒔. Every one person has their whole lives ahead of them, the same way I have my own plans, so why bother about someone chasing me down the hallway? Such a silly thought.

𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕. It's paramount to me now. When I'm gone, I'll get my rest or maybe not.

Yeah, mom has this whole idea about sin and death. Sinners get punished and the righteous go to heaven. Whatever; hell or heaven, I'm ready.

I walk through a dark, narrow passage and step out through the exit. The fresh breeze touches me and that's when someone's shoes squeak behind me.

I swing back in time to see Ayo taking long strides towards me with his backpack slipping past his shoulder. My heart leaps. 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅?

His brows are scrunched and from the way he tightens his jaw, I can tell... wait. Is he mad at me? He has no right. I frown at him even though I want to ask him questions about what happened back in class. Not your concern anymore.

Besides, I'm guessing he's only here to give me a piece of his mind then head back to class. But why does he have his bag?

𝑬𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔. I start walking again but he catches up anyway, blocking me at the end of the stairs. I square my shoulders and stare up at him, my fist clenches and my jaw rigidifies.

𝑴𝒐𝒗𝒆

He stands there so I give him a look. Something flashes beneath the surface of his hardened expression and I wonder what that look means. But it's too late, the emotion disappears before I can identify it, and it's like reaching desperately for air.

"I'm not trying to be a hero," his chest rises as he takes a glimpse over his shoulder. "You caused a scene back there. I was concerned. That's the normal things... friends do. I mean I'm not exactly your friend but... but I was worried."

𝑼𝒈𝒉! 𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘. 𝑨𝒚𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒕.

I move to the side and continue towards the parking lot, but he's not about to give up. He follows me like a lost puppy, between cars until we burst out through a walkway. 𝑨𝒔𝒌 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕. I release a loud sigh, brushing my fingers over my hair. I won't ask him any questions.

"Where are you going?" he follows. "I have no idea where to go now. I don't want to go home. But it's your birthday... and I thought we could hang out... look, I got into trouble so she can kick me out of her class and you won't even talk to me? Not fair."

See? This guy has a hero syndrome problem—I mean, I like heroes. I'm obsessed with Superman, Batman and I think the Joker is a badass even though he's a villain—but Ayo has major issues, annoying issues he suddenly developed.

It takes two harsh breaths for me to ignore and keep going. So what if he got into trouble because of me? Does he want me to lick the floor he walks on? I didn't ask for any of these.

I want to drag him right back into the class but one: I'm too tiny compared to his towering height and two: he has this smile now. That smile he gave me when mom and I moved into their house. That one smile before Seun and I happened.

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔... 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔?

I pass through the dedicated parking spot for the principal and teachers and head for the road.

"C'mon. I won't stop, " he says. I keep walking but he's taking longer strides and  still catches up. "For my birthday, I drove around town..." he takes a big breath then sighs. "Kidding... that's not actually possible, but I visited most places."

Ayo wasn't around for his birthday party, he only came home that night and found me. So, he was having a time of his life while Seun and I prepared for the party. Good for him.

When he catches me staring at him, Ayo laughs. "Just giving you ideas for your birthday."

I shrug. I just want to go home or else, Ayo will ruin this for me. I cover a part of my face with my palm to shield me from the watery sun as those bright rays of light warm my skin.

"I've always loved the idea of having fun without partying or drinking, " he tries again.

I grunt. 𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝑨𝒚𝒐.

A colorful bird perches on the flower bed, tempting me to take out my camera and take a picture. The bird tilts its dainty head this way and that way, almost in a fluid-like motion. It's so beautiful.

𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕. I've always had a thing for taking pictures but don't I have a thing for many things? One time, I wrote short stories, another time, I sketched characters of marvel comics, but photography stuck with me like a bug on a dog.

Photography helps people see. I wanted people to see me and understand my pains. Three weeks ago, I posted a picture of my face melting and wrote "fading away" in the caption. It got 4k likes but that's about it. No one got my message. To the outside world, it's just an edited picture... a beautiful work of art.

To me, it's a release. I was living my truth.

Every single day, I live in fear, dreading when Seun will send me that text.

𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒉𝒆'𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘. I wish he would feel my stabbing pain then die in a horrible way.

I'm evil. I know this.

"Lola, " the footsteps stop and I turn to see Ayo pointing to his black, BMW. "Need a ride? Don't say no."

I say nothing and continue into the road.

"I won't leave you until you talk to me."

"Keep wasting your time then."

Ayo whistles. "Five words to me. That counts." Then laughs.

At that moment, my phone vibrates in my backpack and I take it out to see mom's text on the screen.

"Happy birthday, Lola. Please call your father."

𝒀𝒆𝒂, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. She had to add that to my birthday message.

I lock my phone, put it in my back pocket, and focus on the road. My throat closes up as my legs quiver. She had to add that to the message, wish me a happy birthday, and still try to force me to be nice to my father.

I would rather she took a knife to my skin than coerce me to speak to that man, especially not after years of her saying words so cold to me. Mom spoke to me for years as if I were a stranger, but now...

I won't cry, not in front of Ayo. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈. But my legs are heavy now. 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒚.

Tears wet my cheeks this time as my walls, the walls that hold me up, make me strong just... collapse. Moment by moment, they fall. Salty drops fall from my chin, drenching my shirt and I sniff repeatedly to keep my frail legs from giving way. Does my father deserve my call? Mom has no right. No right--

I snuffle. She won't forgive me but she wants the man who hurt her and child back into his life. Why does she think everything can ever be back to normal?

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒏. 𝑯𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕... 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.

My shoulders tremble. I'm so stupid to compare dad's situation to the unfrogivable thing I did.

"Lola," Ayo says, raising a brow at me. "Are you crying?"