1: Uber Driver

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The cruelest lies are often told in silence
-Robert Louis Stevenson

The cruelest lies are often told in silence-Robert Louis Stevenson

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Knock! Knock!! Knock!!!

“I’m coming.” Romola jumped off her mattress and slipped her feet into her furry pink slippers. Yetunde would not answer the door. Not while she was bobbing her head to one of Davido’s songs.

Romola walked to the door, opened it slightly and stared at their unexpected visitor. He was standing right before the door, on the last staircase that led to their flat from the gate downstairs.

“Who are you?” She narrowed her eyes at the man. His vibrant brown bean arms peeked at her from underneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt resting on his elbow.

“Hello. I’m Olumide. I’m looking for Yetunde. I heard she lives here.”

“Wait.” Romola turned away from the man and walked to her best friend who was dancing in the living room.

The closer she got to Yetunde, the more she wondered who the man at the door was. He had strikingly handsome looks with full brows and a full head of thick dark natural hair.

Why had she refused to let Yetunde pay for her braids? Now the handsome man had seen her short dead hair.
But what did it matter if the man had seen her in her plain blue blouse with a wrapper tied around her waist? For all she knew, he could be one of Yetunde’s numerous partners or even worse, an Uber driver.

Her thoughts had only strayed in that direction because Yetunde constantly pestered her to get a boyfriend before all the rich and handsome ones were gone. It didn’t matter. She did not need a boyfriend.

“Yetunde?” She tapped her caramel coloured best friend and Yetunde responded with a glare.

“What is it?” Yetunde took off her earpiece. “I’ve told you not to disturb me when I’m listening to Davido.”

“Sorry…It’s just that there is a man at the door. I think he is an Uber man.”

“I didn’t request for any Uber.”

“But Olumide specifically asked for you.”

“Wait. Did you say Olumide?” Yetunde screeched, throwing her earpiece on the floor and running to the door. She threw it wide open before jumping on the man there. He caught her in his arms and Yetunde yelled, ”Olumide.”

“Small rat.” His lips spread in a grin.

The gears in Romola’s head began to move.
Olumide
Yetunde=Small rat
Olumide
Yetunde’s brother’s bestfriend.
The guy she won’t stop talking about.

Romola’s jaw dropped as she gave the man her full attention. Now that she was she focused on his face, she could see how handsome he looked. He was so much better than Yetunde had described even though Yetunde had a penchant for exaggeration.

She ogled the human cake before her taking in his smooth skin, long legs and broad shoulders. He was on the lean side but he had a leanness that suit him without making him look too slender.

His eyes met hers and she dropped her gaze before stealing into the kitchen. She didn’t want to be caught staring. She didn’t even want to be seen. Not after she had called her best friend’s crush an Uber driver.

She slapped her forehead and bit her lips thinking of how to make herself useful. She finally settled on getting Olumide some chilled water.  She opened the small fridge and grabbed a bottle of chilled water before putting it on the tray along with a clear glass cup.

She walked to the living room with the tray in her hand and found that her best friend had made Olumide’s lap a throne. Yetunde sat across his laps with her hands gesturing left and right while she chatted animatedly.

Romola heard his deep throaty laughter as he threw his head back laughing at something Yetunde had said. His laughter was sweet -almost musical.

She bent down to drop the tray on the stool beside the chair. Rising up, her eyes met his and her back ramrod straight. She could smell his citrusy perfume. It smelt expensive. Probably, too expensive for an Uber driver.

“You must be thirsty.” She explained, suddenly feeling the need to say something and make herself known.

Why had her voice risen an octave higher? She cleared her throat and chided herself. Olumide was just a man. He was simply Yetunde’s love interest and nothing more.

“Thank you.” His lips spread in a smile again and for that brief moment that his eyes locked with hers, Romola forgot all about her best friend sitting on his laps. She stared into his eyes until Yetunde’s nail pulled his head away.

She felt forgotten -even dejected as she realized that Yetunde had failed to introduce her and probably wouldn’t but she didn’t have the nerve to introduce herself to him.

Especially not when she was trying to remain uninvolved but why then did she wish that Yetunde had worn a longer dress, loosened her braids and then found one of the other chairs useful.

Why did it feel like Olumide’s gaze had cast a warm feeling on her-like the heat of a lit kerosene lamp-The heat that had caused her skin to tighten and sprout goose bumps.

She walked to her room, unable to stand the fury of feelings crashing through her. It was just infatuation and it would pass. Olumide was Yetunde’s love interest and it would always remain that way. If she stayed away and pretended that Olumide was not in the living room, the feelings would subside.

It was probably because Olumide was the most handsome and well-dressed man she had seen in a while. Besides, she didn’t need a man. She had her books and she was fine with that.

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