Chapter Nineteen
When I lived in Nigeria, I often fantasized aboutmy first date, but it always seemed so out of reach, like something only possible once I was in university and away from my parents. I imagined a cute boy in one of my classes would invite me to have drinks at a cool café with live music and art on the wall. We would talk about literature and politics, and maybe after our lengthy and engaging conversation, we would stop at a suya stand. After, he would drive me home or maybe we would share a taxi, and just before I stepped out of the car, he would kiss me.
Since coming to America, my idea of a first date has changed based on the movies I’ve watched. Now, waiting to date until I’m in university seems absurd. I want to experience walking down the stairs in a sundress, a cute boy, who my father has intimidated, waiting for me below. I want him to drive us to a restaurant for dinner, and then to the theater for a movie. Then at the end of the night, when he brings me home, I want a good night kiss on my front porch. But all those things seem more like a fantasy.
On Saturday evening, I sit on my bed and stare at my open closet. My date with Davi is in two hours. I have the perfect outfit—a sunflower-yellow mini dress, white flats, and a jean jacket. Cute and casual. But I can’t possibly wear said outfit, nonchalantly wave goodbye to my mom, and get into Davi’s car. Unlike the all-American girls in the movies, I don’t have a lenient mother who gives her teenage daughter the liberty to date. I have a strict and traditional Nigerian mother. That’s a factor I really should have considered before agreeing to this date.
A few minutes ago, when I spoke to Tolu about the situation, she reminded me what most American teenagers do when restricted from leaving the house. Sneak out.
“It seems risky,” I told her. “I won’t get away with it.”
“Says the girl who spontaneously auditioned for the school musical, sang her heart out, became a viral sensation, lied to her mother about said audition, and got away with it. Or who skipped school with a boy, lied about her whereabouts, and again, got away with it. Abeg.” She hissed. “You’re more than capable of sneaking out and going on this date. All you have to do is use the pillow-under-the-blanket trick.”
“No. Absolutely not. It’s too risky.”
She sighed. “So, what are you going to do? Cancel?”
I considered that option. It seemed like the only one.
“Come on, Enore. You were so excited about this date, and now you’re just not going to go? You aren’t even going to try? Maybe give the pillow idea more thought?”
I ended my call with Tolu with no clarity on what to do. Now my phone buzzes, and I instantly believe it’s her messaging me a better idea. But it’s only my cousin Naomi. She came across my audition video and hasn’t stopped raving about it. I read her new message.
NAOMI:Let’s all do something fun when I come home for Thanksgiving. I miss you guys.
ME:Okay. That would be nice.
She responds with a series of emojis that all translate to love. I do the same, and the conversation ends while my first-date issue is still very much an issue. Frustrated, I flop on my bed and groan.
“What’s wrong with you?”
When I hear Esosa’s voice, I spring upright. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“I’m not even a little convinced.”
I roll my eyes.
“So? Are you going to tell me or what? I mean, if this thing, whatever it is, is making you this miserable, I’m sure you’re dying to get it off your chest.”
Well, she isn’t wrong. Talking to Tolu didn’t help much. Maybe I need another set of ears.
“Close the door,” I say before going into the details.
Esosa, being the true tatafo that she is, rushes to the door, shuts it, and sits beside me. “Yeeesss.” She draws out the word as a grin appears on her face.
“Well…”
“Yeah…”
I sigh. “I have a date with Davi tonight.”
One of Esosa’s eyebrows curves up slowly. “As you should.”
“‘As you should.’ That is your reaction? Did you hear what I just said?”
“I heard you perfectly.” She crosses her legs. “And I stand by my statement. You two make a cute couple. And you obviously like each other. I was in the car the other day. The chemistry between you guys was intense. So yay for the date. Have fun.”
My sister is either delusional or has simply forgotten one major factor that would prevent me from going on my date: our mother. I grunt again and fall on my back.
“Wait. Am I missing something?” Esosa asks. “What’s the problem? Don’t you want to go?”
“Of course I do. But it’s not like I can just get dressed, walk out of the house, get into his car, and leave. What am I going to tell Mommy?”
“Oh. Right.” Esosa falls on her back and exhales. “I see the issue now.”
“Yeah. I did not think this through. I’ll have to text Davi and cancel.” Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to let go of my original idea of a first date. After all, university is only a year away. I can wait till then. The thought is painful, but I accept it.
“I have an idea!” Esosa says, sitting up. “Do you have friends?”
“What?”
“From school. I’m assuming you’ve made at least one friend you trust to some degree.”
I sit up and think. Davi and I have had lunch with his friends all week. Apart from the bad vibes I get from Ara, I’m cool with the rest of the group. Though, since the interview, I’ve gravitated more toward Sybil. She seems to be a genuinely nice person, and I hope my instincts aren’t off on that.
“Yeah. I have someone,” I tell Esosa.
“Great. And you have her number?”
I nod.
“Good. Text her. Ask if she’s home. If she says yes, tell her you need her help with something, and then ask if you can come over.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it, Enore.”
For once, just this once, I follow my little sister’s instructions without asking too many questions. Because I’ll admit, if there’s one person who can resolve this situation, it’s Esosa.
I grab my phone and send Sybil the first text.
ME:Hey Sybil. You home?
Seconds pass as we wait for a response. When it comes, I hold my breath and read it.
SYBIL:Hey. Yeah I am. What’s up?
ME:Need your help with something. Mind if I come over?
I tap my foot, waiting anxiously for the reply. When my phone buzzes, Esosa and I look at the screen and I exhale.
“Excellent. Now we have a cover story.” Esosa stands—her posture straight and her shoulders squared like a general elaborating on the details of a mission. “Next, you’re going to throw your date outfit into your school bag. And I’ll throw my makeup kit into mine. We’ll tell Mom we’re going to your friend’s to study. A group study session and on a Saturday night?” Esosa chuckles. “Mom will love it. Then we’ll ask Auntie Sara for a ride to your friend’s—she never asks questions. Then you’ll ask Davi to pick you up there and bring you back at the end of the night. I’ll ask Auntie Sara to pick us up twenty minutes after your drop-off time, giving you enough time to change out of your date clothes. And that’s that.” She releases a deep breath and smiles. “Do you get?”
It’s a detailed and expansive plan that really should do the trick, leaving very little room for suspicion. I’m tempted to give my sister a round of applause, but I’m confused about one detail.
“Why exactly are you coming?” I ask.
“Look. I’m taking any opportunity there is to get out of this house. Also, I think you might require my makeup skills tonight.”
I suppose I wouldn’t mind putting the extra effort into my appearance, considering the occasion.
“So?” Esosa sways with her hands behind her back, looking innocent, like she hasn’t just devised a brilliant exit plan. “Are you up for this?”
I watch my twiddling fingers and consider. If I go through with this, it will be the biggest lie I’ve ever told my mom. And worst of all, I will be bringing my little sister along for the ride. She might have come up with the plan, but I should be the one setting a good example, steering her on a straight and narrow path paved with practicality and obligation. As the oldest, it’s my responsibility. It’s what I’ve always tried to do. But these days, what I used to do just doesn’t come as naturally as it once did.
I look at Esosa and nod. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”