Facade (Romola 1)

16: Back at the Flat

"Friendship, like the immortality of the soul, is too good to be believed. When friendships are real, they are not glass threads or frost work but the solidest things we know."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson

"It's almost a pity to let you go," Olumide brought his car to a stop just beside the cream gate of the apartment complex. Romola unstrapped the seatbelt while Olumide turned off the engine.

"I know," She sighed, with a smile. She would have loved to spend the rest of the night talking to Olumide but she really had to get back to her flat. Yetunde ought to be waiting for her. This was the latest she had ever stayed out alone on a week day. She stared at him as he let his head loll, on the head rest, towards hers.

"I'm glad you had such a good time." He said. Silence filled the car as she stared at him waiting for something that she wasn't even sure of. Was that all he had to say to her? He opened his lips and her heart swelled with hope. "Please, make sure you watch Yetunde closely."

"Yes. Sure." She couldn't help the frown that besieged her face. She opened the door and stepped out of the car. What was she writing for? He had told her what he wanted from her. None of which inclined towards her deepest thoughts about him.

"I'll call you." She heard him say after she had taken two steps. She turned so that she was facing him. He had wind down the window and his eyes were focused on hers. She could only see his shilouette, thanks to the street lamp glaring yellow beams on her dark skin but she felt his gaze like one would feel a caress from a lover's palm.

"Like you said you would before?" She snapped, then bit her tongue. Why did she lash out at him? He had taken her to a restaurant to apologize. She had to be grateful that she had at least had a meal in a place that she could not afford to eat at. "Forget I said that."

"I promise you. I will call you," He pronounced each word as though he was declaring a confession from the depth of his heart.

She nodded and walked away. She was not going to set her mind to expect anything from Olumide. It gave her unnecessary head aches and heart aches.

She slapped her plan against the gate. It slid to the left, rattling and leaving a gap between itself and the wall. The gateman peeked out at her before opening the gate properly to allow her pass. She went in and stood by the gate until she heard Olumide's car drive away . The nightly silence of the street bade her leave. She trudged to the flat, hoping Yetunde would have arrived home in a better state.

She took her time to climb up the staircase. After several rasps of her  knuckle against the wooden door failed to produce the satisfying click of an unlocked door, she dug into her bag and produced her own key. She raised the key to the key slot level when the door flew open and the lights from the living room blinded her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut for a few moments.

"Oh, It's just you." She heard Yetunde say. She opened her her eyes to see Yetunde leaning against the door post wearing a pallid face on a black  sequined crop top with green leather shorts. What party or club was Yetunde headed to now?

"Were you expecting someone else?" Romola paused. "Where are you going?"

"Where are you coming from?" Yetunde took a step closer and Romola took a step back to avoid being pressed against Yetunde's chest.

She avoided Yetunde's raised brow, choosing instead to stare at the living room. "I went out with a friend."

"On a date?!"

"No! We just..." Romola searched for a suitable lie. Considering the fact that she was a professional at spinning lines, she wondered why it took her so long to provide a believable lie to Yetunde. "We were talking about issues in our department, assignments and stuffs like that."

"Oh," Yetunde's voice fell flat as her brows creased together. Her eyes roamed Romola's body. "Was that all?"

"Can I come in now? I'm really tired. I had a long day."

Yetunde stepped away from the doorway and Romola proceeded. Her eyes scanned the room. There was nothing put of place. Nothing to suggest that Yetunde could be hiding something.

What exactly was she supposed to look out for? She blamed herself for listening to Olumide. Yetunde would never do drugs. But she wondered why Yetunde had taken so long to open the door.

"Why are you just standing and staring? Are you looking for something?" Yetunde shot her a look that ought to be reserved for an occupant of kirikiri prison.

"No." Romola spun around staring at Yetunde head on. "I'm just simply glad that I get to share this beautiful apartment with you because you know, you're like my sister and I trust you."

"If you really trusted me, you wouldnave told Olumide to come pick me TMI at the club on Friday. You could have left me at the club with that guy! I was aware of what I was doing.”

"So you want me to leave you with a stranger? You're not serious." Romola shut the door and plopped into the closest sofa she could find.

Yetunde stood before her, hands akimbo and eyes accusing. "You also didn't have to hand me over to Olumide. You should have brought me back here and then gone home."

"I didn't call him there. He was waiting for you. He wanted to take you home." Romola explained. Did Yetunde really expect her to return to the flat and then begin the arduous journey home so late at night? Alone?

"Sure. Sure he was. Your lies are gibing me a headache."

"I'm not lying!"

"Sure you're not." Yetunde gave her a sarcastic smile, sauntering towards the door.

Worry creased Romola's face. "Where are you going this late at night?"

"None of your business Romola.  You're not my mother so I don't need to tell you anything."

Romola couldn't believe that Yetunde was still mad at her. She had hoped Yetunde's anger would have simmered down by now. At least, she now knew why Yetunde was mad at her.

Her phone vibrated in her bag seconds after Yetunde slammed the door shut with a bang. She pulled it out, swiped the screen and stared at the message that came in. It was from a strange number.

The message read: l had a good time with a very beautiful  girl. I hope we can do this some time soon.

Her brows narrowed as she glared at the number. Who was this joker?

Another message popped in: It's Olumide. How is Yetunde?

Her throat jumped as she stared at his second message. He had texted her. Of course! He was the only one whole she had spent  the day with. But she had nor been expecting his call or his text or the term 'beautiful girl'.

She texted back: She just left the house.

She saved his number before stepping out of the flat and watching Yetunde's heels chink against the stone steps.

A new message came in: Follow her.

And then another: Please