When A Playboy Loves

|| 18.

Utianle

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and my index finger reached out to wipe it off. The windows were open, curtains were pulled back but it did nothing to alleviate the heat. With Faith's fingers moving across my scalp, glueing weaves to the skull cap on my head, I wanted to disappear.

The rest of the weaves were on the floor, alongside my iPhone which was turned upside down. My gaze drifted to the phone again, eager to see that familiar flashlight that signified the entrance of a new message but there was none.

Subconsciously, my fingers played with the strap of my gown, sliding it down my shoulders and I toyed briefly with the idea of stripping. "I don't know why these NEPA people won't bring light."

"How do they expect us to enjoy this public holiday if everywhere is hot?" I finished off with a long hiss.

Picking up the hand fan I had earlier discarded, I fanned myself aggressively, raining numerous curses on the electricity distribution company. My feet were numb from staying in the same position for so long and the hair constantly brushing against my neck was making me antsy.

"You know how they are, better don't stress yourself." Faith responded, returning my head back to its initial position - right in between her laps. Somehow, that one move made me feel hotter than I did before.

"You didn't even tell me how the dinner went? Did you meet any fine man? What of the money, what will you do with it? I hope you have dumped that Umoh now?" She fired questions upon questions, not giving me a chance to reply one before the next one came out.

What will I do with the money?

I glanced at the cream coloured walls, at the peeling paint that I had not noticed until now. The ceiling was no longer white, tainted at the edges by a colour that seemed closer to brown. The sofas were old and sunken from the weight over the years.

My eyes strayed to the television which was propped on the wooden divider, the disks stacked underneath one of its compartment before landing on the DSTV decoder: our latest addition. It was time for a much needed parlour renovation.

"The dinner went well, it was okay." A half-smile graced my lips; it was more than okay, probably one of the best I'd been to in years. Sparing another glance at my phone, there was still no flashlight. 

Maybe I should have kept the lunch bit to myself.

"It was okay." Faith reiterated in a voice that was supposed to sound like mine but sounded nothing close to it. Her fingernails dug into my ear, pulling down on it like it was some sort of stretchy material. "You spent more than two hours there and that's the only thing you have to say, ehn?"

"You didn't have to do that," I murmured when she finally let go, gently stroking my ear. If all of my attention wasn't so focused on a certain handsome man, my mouth would have been running by now. 

"Talk joor." She pushed my hand away, taking over the ear massage. That was the only form of apology I would get from her and I didn't mind.

The long-awaited flashlight finally came on and I hurriedly grabbed the phone. Taking deep breaths to tone down my excitement, I giggled as I inputted my password. This was like my secondary school days all over again, when I received my first love letter from my crush. The difference this time was in the content of King's message, a disappointing, one-word response.

Okay.

"Uti," Faith called, pulling on my ears again. 

"What is it?" I snapped, twisting my neck to face her. She chuckled at my reaction, trying to push my head back. If I wasn't so hungover King's lukewarm response, I might have seen the humour in her actions.