We were play-fighting when Bolaji knocked. I had to pry her hands away and scramble off her just so she could answer the door. It was one of our little routines\u2014she loved pretending to be stronger than me, and I was happy to let her win, especially when she broke into a fit of giggles from tickling me. Zee, ever the tomboy, still played lawn tennis during semester breaks despite her delicate figure.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I first met Bolaji on one of the days I visited Zee. To an outsider, they looked like just friends\u2014much like the way Zee and I were. On my end, I secretly hoped for something more, though Zee always insisted she wasn\u2019t ready for a boyfriend; her independence was everything. I never pressed the issue, and perhaps Bolaji was similarly reticent. Zee usually filled me in on everything, so I assumed if he had romantic feelings, I would have known. Maybe, like me, he just kept his mouth shut.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
That evening, Bolaji staggered in drunk, spouting curses as he slumped on the couch. I felt the urge to leave since it was getting dark, and finding a ride home later would be a nightmare. Zee, however, quickly snatched my tiny Motorola Blue and, after only a few seconds, handed it back\u2014its screen still glowing with a new message:<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t leave now. I\u2019m scared.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n For a moment, the room fell silent. Bolaji halted his barrage of curses to mention he was hungry, so Zee shuffled off to the kitchen to warm up some rice. This was her grandmother\u2019s house. It had more space than the usual cramped rooms we got as students and even a private kitchen down the corridor. She called me to help, but when I reached her, she simply enveloped me in a hug and sighed.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know why Bjay\u2019s like this. You saw him before he went out nau? I\u2019ve never seen him so wasted\u2014I don\u2019t feel safe.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Her tension was palpable. Play-fighting was one thing, but this was something else entirely. I stood there awkwardly, my hands hanging by my sides for what felt like ages until she wouldn\u2019t let go. Slowly, I slipped my arms around her.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I exhaled softly, \u201cYou\u2019ll be alright. I\u2019ll just wait till he leaves, let\u2019s just hope I can get a cab when I\u2019m ready to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Amid the chaos of Bolaji\u2019s drunken ranting about unseen demons from the living room, there was a strange calm between us. Holding her wasn\u2019t unusual; she\u2019d always cuddled on her couch when we watched movies. But tonight, it was different\u2014there was an unexpected peace.<\/p>\n Her hair smelled amazing, just as it always did. In a moment of impulse, I buried my face in it, my nose gently pressing against her forehead as I rocked from side to side, trying to soothe her. Then, as if drawn by an irresistible force, she lifted her head and our lips met.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Whoa, first base!<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I hadn\u2019t anticipated that, least of all in such a spontaneous, heady moment. But I didn\u2019t care\u2014I kissed her back. I\u2019d always imagined her kissing me, though I thought I\u2019d see it coming, clear and deliberate. Here we were in the dark, our bodies moving as if they\u2019d been in sync forever. Her breath hitched as I traced the narrow valley from the small of her back up to her neck with my fingertips.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She shifted on her toes, swaying precariously until we leaned against one of the kitchen walls. I bent down and scooped her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around my waist. I was losing my mind\u2014how was this even happening?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Amid the turmoil inside my head, we kept kissing, as if time had slowed. I remembered Mary\u2014the last person I\u2019d kissed, the first\u2014and how awkward it had been waiting for that moment.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Now, with Zee, it felt natural, intoxicating.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t help noticing that she wasn\u2019t wearing a bra. My hands, already wandering along her back, moved forward.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Second base.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Suddenly, she pulled away, her breath heavy.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cAre you okay? Is something wrong?\u201d I asked in the dim light.<\/p>\n She managed a laugh between breaths, \u201cNo. Yes. No\u2014everything\u2019s fine. Just\u2026 the rice is burning.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I groaned, \u201cOh s***. I have a terrible nose for these things, I had no idea.\u201d<\/p>\n We both laughed. I carefully set her down as she switched off the stove. Miraculously, most of the rice was salvageable, so she gently scraped off the unburnt portions for Bolaji.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Returning to the living room, we found Bolaji missing\u2014but not without a souvenir. A pool of vomit near the couch bore silent witness to his state.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cBolaji!\u201d Zee called out.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, I\u2019m in the bathroom. Abeg, show,\u201d he mumbled.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n By the time Zee returned, she was laughing again\u2014a light, infectious laugh that revealed her two front teeth, one of which was slightly broken. She used to say she\u2019d fix it someday, but I secretly loved it just the way it was.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cHow\u2019s he now?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cHe seems a bit better, I guess,\u201d she shrugged. \u201cHe\u2019s apologizing for being completely f***** up.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cOkay, just grab me a bucket and a rag. I\u2019ll handle this mess while you get him cleaned up.\u201d<\/p>\n I set to work mopping up the vomit, which reeked of shepe<\/em>\u2014the cheap gin sold around town.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Thankfully, Bolaji hadn\u2019t eaten, so the cleanup wasn\u2019t as bad as it could have been.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Before long, Zee returned. Bolaji was still holed up in the bathroom.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s embarrassed,\u201d she said. \u201cBy the way, how are you doing all this so easily? If I didn\u2019t know better, I\u2019d say you were studying Nursing and not Mass Comm.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She burst into her trademark giggles. \u201cDon\u2019t be silly. My dad\u2019s a vet doctor and growing up on farms teaches you to handle all kinds of messes. Besides, someone has to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She felt safer after that, and as Bolaji began to sober up, I made sure we left together. The cab ride was quiet\u2014a reflective silence that allowed us to process the night\u2019s events. The cab stopped at Oru for Bolaji, while I continued toward my place on Mini Campus Road.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n When I finally got home, a grin spread across my face. My cousin, ever the tease, couldn\u2019t help but comment.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cNa woman house you go, abi? Have they finally rid you of your virginity?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I laughed, \u201cNo, not yet.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Iko, my cousin\u2019s friend and flatmate, smirked. \u201cRubbish, so you\u2019re still a virgin. Then why are you grinning like a barbequed goat?\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I was used to their banter. What I couldn\u2019t stop replaying in my mind was how Zee had kissed me out of the blue. Lying in bed that night, I stared at the ceiling with a smile, while my cousins wondered what on earth had gotten into me.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n If the friendzone were a prison, I\u2019d just picked the lock to my jail cell.<\/p>\n Michael Scofield would be proud.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We were play-fighting when Bolaji knocked. I had to pry her hands away and scramble off her just so she could answer the door. It was one of our little routines\u2014she loved pretending to be stronger than me, and I was happy to let her win, especially when she broke into a fit of giggles […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":9454,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[33],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9451","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-features"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9451","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9451"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9451\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9453,"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9451\/revisions\/9453"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/9454"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9451"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9451"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.heirsholdings.com\/hhpeople\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9451"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}