How to Roll
5
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Music thumping, the party still in full swing, I feel a familiar vibration in my pocket. Reaching for my phone, I grin, unable to contain my excitement when I see Special’s name with an image of us on my screen. Excusing myself from the conversation with Itohan and Alex, I step away to a quieter corner, close to the bathrooms, eager to hear his voice. He’s been at work most of the day, and we’ve not had time for a proper call. Not like we can talk for hours in this loud place, but I’m giddy with what I can get for the time being.
“Hey, Spesh…” I greet, excited, covering my mouth and the phone’s speaker from the loud music in the background.
“Hey, love.” His warm and familiar voice comes through, comforting me. I’m convinced he’s home and ready for the night, like I ought to be to. He mumbles something, then adds, “Can you hear me?”
I tilt my head, trying to find a quieter spot. “Yeah, I can hear you. Sorry about the noise. ”
“Must be quite the party.” He chuckles softly. “Want to tamp it down a little?”
“It definitely is,” I reply, a smile tugging at my lips. “I’m out with some friends.”
There’s a momentary pause on his end. Then his voice turns curious. “Out with friends?”
“Yeah, I’m at a party—”
“You’re at a party?”
“Yes, I—”
“Did you tell me about this party?”
“I—” Oh no. I hesitate, backtracking and realizing that my excitement might have taken precedence over the need to inform him. Oh shit, how did I forget? “I thought—I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you. I thought I did.”
“You thought you did? Jesus Christ!”
“I’m sorry…” Feeling cute and cheeky, I add, “it’s not like I keep tabs on your goings and comings.”
“It’s not about me keeping tabs on you, Fifi. Someone needs to know where you are.”
Okay. That didn’t pan out the way I thought it would. Now I feel guilty. It wasn’t intentional I swear. With a lot of schoolwork, plans to move in with Itohan and thoughts of making extra money, I was really looking forward to being here tonight, that informing him slipped my mind. I knew I was missing something the other day.
“What if something happens to you there?” he continues. “Baby, you’ve been here for barely two months, there’s a way things are done.”
I sigh, pangs of guilt pricking my chest. “You’re right, and I apologize. I should have let you know.”
His tone softens a bit. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”
Leaning against the wall, I furrow my brows, lost in thought for a moment. “I understand,” I finally say. “And I promise to keep you in the loop in the future. ”
He sighs, as though accepting the situation for what it is. “So… who are you with?”
I smile, remembering my encounter with the weed smelling dude who didn’t bother to introduce himself. When he’s all calm, I’m sure Special would enjoy the gist and get fired up at how the guy sexualized me. “Sarah from my class invited me, so I came with Itohan.”
Another brief pause, and then I hear his voice again, this time it’s laced with irritation. “Itohan? You’re always with her.”
I blink, surprised by the edge in his words. “Speshie, she’s my only Naija friend. It’s only natural for us to hang out together.”
He sighs heavily. “I just don’t get why you’re so close to her. And she makes you end up doing things without thinking.”
Where is this coming from? Have I said anything to paint Itohan in a bad light? All I’ve done is crack jokes about her being a Benin girl through and through. “She’s a good friend. I’m not lucky like you to choose which Naija friend I want to have, but I’m glad she’s my friend. We support each other.”
A tense silence consumes all our words, and when he finally speaks, his tone is dismissive. “Well, I hope you’re having fun.”
“I am,” I reply softly, feeling sad at the iciness of his tone. I’m sorry, nau.
“Um, I just got back from work. I’ll let you go so I can find something to eat. Take care and let me know when you arrive home.”
“Speshie, I—” I start, but he’s ended the call.
Baby.... I feel bad for making him so emotional, he can’t stay on the phone with me.
Curling my lips in displeasure, I stare at his phone number, tempted to call back. The joy of being at the party dulls, replaced by a sense of conflict.
I don’t like this feeling. Everything he said, I agree with, except for that part about Itohan’s influence on me.
When I rejoin a smiling Itohan and Alex, all it takes Itohan is one perceptive gaze. “Everything okay?”
I muster a smile, as my attempt to appear fine is falling short. “Yeah, just not feeling too well. I think I might head home. ”
She touches my arm gently. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her, the turmoil within me intensifying.
I shouldn’t be here. I should have told Special about it. Now he’s over there thinking I don’t care about his opinions or that I’m becoming a ‘loose’ girl. Back in college, I enjoyed partying because I loved it and Special was the Director of Socials.
Truth? It was also an excuse to see him.
But ever since I graduated, I haven’t seen the need to head out into spaces like this. Am I trying to become the girl I was? Who is this woman I’m becoming?
Itohan exchanges a quick look with Alex. I don’t believe that stuff she said about settling for an African man. I can see the connection she’s developing with Alex. Once I get past this feeling eating my guts, I’ll tease her about it.
“You know what, boo?” Itohan says, dropping her cup on the nearest table. “I think I’ll call it a night too.”
I blink in surprise. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
Itohan shakes her head, “Hmm, hmm. I’d rather you not be alone right now.”
Warmth bubbles in my chest, “Thank you, Itohan.”
As we gather our things and bid Alex goodbye, I can’t help but appreciate Itohan’s support while at the same time unable to shake the unease settling in my chest. Why hadn’t I been smarter and informed him about my plans? Why did something that was supposed to be a fun night out become a source of tension?
It’s so easy to get caught up in the excitement of the moment, to forget that every action has consequences, even unintended ones.
Walking side by side, we step out into the night, the city’s lights casting a soft glow on the pavements. We walk in companionable silence to the bus stop, the rhythm of our footsteps matching the cadence of my thoughts.
When we get to the bus stop, Itohan squeezes my hand. “I hope you’re okay,” she says, breaking the silence.
Nodding, I press a smile to my lips. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for being here. ”
She offers a small smile. “Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”
After waiting for what feels like an eternity for a bus to arrive, Itohan asks if I want to share and I shrug, giving her highlights of my conversation with Special, leaving out the part that involves to her.
Looking into my eyes, she smiles like a sage. “When you told me you had a guy, I was curious as to who would dare lock down a brilliant, promising lady without being by her side? But then I’ve listened in on your conversations and every other thing you’ve shared, Special is a good guy. And every relationship has its ups and downs. Your love and dedication makes me excited and I just want you to realize misunderstandings are normal, okay?”
“Yeah…” What was I expecting? That Special and I’s relationship won’t have normal hurdles? “You’re right, Itohan.”
She smiles, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “And for the record, I think you’re both adorable. I could see the immediate mood switch when you stepped back.”
We both chuckle.
“Ehen. Smile for me. But really, it’s fine. You love him and he loves you.”
Nodding, I chuckle, feeling a lightness in my heart as a weight lifts off my shoulders. “Thanks babe. I needed that.” I was just being silly, beating myself up about the incident.
As though on cue, my bus arrives, and we bid each other goodnight.
“Don’t forget to ask your landlady if I can move in,” she reminds me.
“No problem. I’ll let you know.”
In the quiet of the bus, I reflect on the things that truly mattered—my studies, my dreams, and my relationship with Special. The distance between us is already a challenge, and I know communication and understanding are the keys to overcoming it. With everything we’ve been through to be together—even though we’re still not physically together—it would be foolish of me to cause a strain between us. The goal is to, yes, focus on my studies, on achieving my goals, and nurturing our bond.
I reach my room without interacting with Bridget and her family—if they are out or in, I don’t care. The door closes behind me, and I lean my back on it, letting out a sigh. Oh, Special! Hurriedly, I pull out my phone, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I compose a text message .
“I’m sorry for,” I start, but quickly delete that, settling for, “Hey love, I’m home now. I hope you’re doing okay. What did you have for dinner?”
I hit send and wait for a response. My heart races like a stallion as I hope for some form of acknowledgment. Seconds turn into an eternity, and the message remains unread and unanswered.
Quickly, I go about getting ready for bed, the quiet surroundings a huge contrast to the noise of the party that’s still reverberating in my head. Occasionally I glance at my phone, the silence on the other end amplifying my worries. The events of the evening play in my mind, and I turn every response he gave left and right, searching for clues.
Clues to what?
Oh gosh, I’m going out of my mind.
Why am I acting like a woman from the oldies? I don’t want to call him. I need him to call me back. With a deep breath, I decide to take a different approach. Navigating to the voice messaging feature, I hit record.
“Hey, love… it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m home now. I understand if you need some space tonight. We can talk tomorrow, and I really hope we can sort things out. I love you… umm. Goodnight.”
I release the button and it delivers to him.
That should do it.
To think we were supposed to talk about ways I can work and make money remotely so I can sustain myself if and when I move apartments. With a sigh, I set my phone aside and settle into bed.
Lord have mercy, it’s too quiet in here. Usually, I’m on a call with him till I fall asleep. Is he punishing me?
It’s not like he’s read the message, I need to calm down and stop assuming the worst.
I close my eyes. Tomorrow…
Tomorrow, I’ll express my gratitude for his concern and reaffirm my commitment to mend, nurture, and protect our love. With these thoughts in mind, I drift into a dreamless sleep.