At First Sight
___________
At times, I ponder why I put up with Joyce. She seems oblivious to her own exasperating nature. Night sounds accompany me as I step out of my hostel’s compound and onto the uneven, red, dusty street where I parked Linda’s black Honda. Linda is based in Akure but has a distaste for driving, so I happily share the driving duties.
I start the engine and cue Ruger’s “Bounce.” In under five minutes, the girls hop into the car. Am I being unreasonably sensitive, or did Joyce purposefully slam that door harder than necessary?
Gosh, I pray this drive is long and uneventful because—
“The AC is too much oh,” Joyce complains, barely two minutes into the drive.
Linda, sitting in the passenger seat beside me, shoots me a sidelong glance that says, “bear with me.”
Oh, what I would give for a superpower to silence Joyce.
“Sorry,” I say, my tone lacking genuine remorse. “We’ll be there soon.” In a hushed voice meant for Linda alone, I add, “Did you arrange for a backup to drive them home? I don’t want anyone cutting our time out short.”
Linda nods in response.
Less than thirteen minutes later, I’m driving into Madras Club and setting the car to park.
I check my messages and, as expected, G-Ben has sent directions on how to find our seats and which entrance to use.
The girls swiftly mumble their thanks as we disembark, and I promptly move with Linda and Ekene, the two people I truly care about, toward the entrance G-Ben specified.
Gbenga, aka G-Ben, is not just my brother; he’s my confidant. Our bond has always been strong, and he’s surrounded by an incredible circle of friends. His final year project, filled with extensive research and travel, has been time-consuming, all in pursuit of his upcoming graduation.
I pause at the door, my breath quickening as I catch sight of Special. He stands tall, radiating confidence with his lean, athletic frame and impeccable style. His lean, athletic frame is adorned with a bold grey and black horizontally striped collared polo, black skinny pants, and white Tommy Hilfiger sneakers. He is talking enthusiastically with two guys, exuding a captivating charm.
The first time we sort of met was at the campus’ famed pastry shop, owned by Iya Selina. It was during my first weeks at school, and I had a craving for doughnuts. As I stood in line, torn between satisfying my sweet tooth and registering for classes, I noticed old political posters featuring the guy fellow freshers wished had organized our Freshers’ Welcome Party. He was a former DOS and G-Ben’s friend. Intriguing stories circulated about his charisma, charm, wit, and brilliance, but I paid little attention. I came to study Computer Science, not gossip about the cute former DOS.
Finally reaching the counter, I ordered Iya Selina’s hot jam doughnuts, which would become my addiction. While waiting for her to pack my order, I stole furtive glances around. There he was, engrossed in a book at a corner table. His face was a familiar one, displayed on the school walls.
Bathed in rays of the afternoon light, his skin had a beautiful cocoa glow. His fingers gracefully turned the pages of the book, his expressive eyes concentrated on the words. My gaze lingered on his well-defined jawline, his lips curving into a subtle smile as he read, and the confident aura he carried even in deep concentration.
The shop buzzed around me, but I felt suspended in a moment. I admired the ease in his posture, the way he interacted with the world. His voice, when he eventually spoke to someone who stopped by to hail him, held a resonance that captured my attention.
Our eyes briefly made contact, and my heart skipped a beat. I abruptly averted my gaze, flustered by my own reaction.
Days passed, and I couldn’t shake the memory of that encounter. I thought of him… the unassuming confidence he radiated, his political pictures defacing the school’s walls, the charm oozing from him.
Oh!
Then, I didn’t know it was more than just physical attraction; there was something intriguing about him, something that drew me in.
During a visit to G-Ben’s room one afternoon, he offhandedly mentioned he was expecting his tutor. In no time, he entered the room with a smile.
“Hey, could you quickly freshen up? Special’s coming by for a study session,” he announced.
My heart leaped at the mention of Special’s name, a rush of excitement and nervousness washing over me. I tried to act casual, but G-Ben’s knowing smile made my efforts futile.
“Oh, you mean your popular friend, Special?” I replied, feigning casualness.
G-Ben chuckled, clearly seeing through my act. “Yeah, my popular friend, Special. I thought you might want to make a good impression. You can leave your hair that way if you want—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.”
I admired Special from afar, drawn to his presence in unexpected ways. It was the first time the mere idea of meeting a guy face-to-face had my stomach churning and my insides quivering. Would he remember our fleeting eye contact at Iya Selina’s shop? Up close, would I like him? Would he like me? My mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions colliding within me.
As G-Ben gathered his books and notes, I smiled to myself as realization slowly dawned on me. Special was coming over to teach G-Ben, indicating he must be quite intelligent. I found myself liking him even more in that moment.
Coming back to the present, it takes Special a moment to spot me and my crew.
“Hey.” His mouth curves into a smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes, revealing a glimpse of the carefree spirit within him. “Fifi and company.” His voice is a melodious resonance that stirs something deep within me. “The three musketeers.”
He excuses himself from his prior conversation and closes the distance between us, one arm widening to pull me into a side hug.
Feeling confident with Linda and Ekene flanking my sides, I grin haughtily, leaning into his warmth. “You know…”
There’s a certain magnetism about Special that’s hard to put into words, it draws people to him like moths to a flame, eager to bask in the glow of his infectious laughter and genuine joy. He has a way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room, as if he’s solely focusing his attention on you. It’s a quality that makes everyone around him feel valued and appreciated.
I am no exception.
Though intensely yearning to be completely enveloped in his embrace, I consent to him giving me a side hug. The moment I feel his firm physique, cloaked in designer wear and cologne, I’m reminded of his dedication to fitness and his well-toned abdomen.
Not that I’ve been spying on him or anything.
It just so happened that the other day, when I went to G-Ben’s hostel to collect some foodstuff he brought from his brief trip home, I stumbled upon him and his friends bench pressing. If it were possible to swallow my tongue, I might have done it when I caught sight of Special, laughing at something someone had said. The memory of him casually gripping both ends of a towel hanging from his neck haunts me every now and then.
I’m pretty sure it’s not just me.
Well, at least I think so.
Thing is… I don’t have concrete proof—yet. All I can claim are those stolen glances exchanged when we’re in proximity and the deep conversations we have about life’s goals, relationships, and aspirations. And for me, those stolen moments ignite a fire of longing, a fire I don’t want to play with.
Sometimes, I’ve caught him intently staring at me.
Did I imagine those?
Linda, or was it Ekene, clears their throat.
Releasing me, Special nonchalantly shifts his posture, offering polite smiles and greetings to Linda and Ekene, casually tucking his thumbs into his trouser pockets.
“How have you been?” he asks, his gaze briefly scans my outfit, giving me the impression that it doesn’t faze him.
Odd.
Other guys we passed on our way here did double takes when they saw me and my crew.
I swallow, nodding my head repeatedly like an agama lizard. “I’m good. Where’s G-Ben? He said to come in through this side.”
“G-Ben is busy organizing stuff with Ola,” he replies, rubbing his well-defined jawline thoughtfully.
I try not to focus on his lips.
“You’re looking for the seats, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll show you where we’ll be,” Special says, moving to stand beside me.
Okay… I like this deal of spending time with him!
“Ladies?” He addresses my friends before taking my arm and placing it in the crook of his own. In a lowered, conversational voice, he adds, “Why are you dressed like this?”
“Hmm?” So, he noticed my outfit. I’m stunned. Choosing to play it cool, I raise my chin a little. “Please... I dress how I feel, and today, I’m feeling good.”
“You look good,” he says with a smile, winking at me.
Gosh! Why am I drawn to the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles or laughs.
I’ve never believed in the whole tall, dark, and handsome package. Who wants to crane and cramp their neck while kissing? Good thing we’re almost the same height—the perfect height difference for us to get things done.
Occasionally drifting my gaze to his profile as he navigates us through the populated hall, I notice the arrogant jut of his classic nose leading to full, sexy lips. Is it strange I think his lips are sexy? If I say it out loud, would he take it as a compliment?
We arrive at a door where a bouncer stands guard. Muffled music comes through from the other side of the door. Special exchanges pleasantries with the bouncer and soon, the heavy, barely lit club door swings open, to reveal a wave of excited peals of laughter drowned in pulsating afrobeat music. Neon lights bathe the room in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting dynamic shadows that dance across the exposed brick walls. The air is thick with the combined scents of perfume and sweat.
Our entry doesn’t go unnoticed; heads turn as we make our way through the energetic crowd. The DJ, close to the mini stage stationed ahead, controls the beats reverberating through the room and into our bodies, making every step feel like a dance move. Colorful lights spin overhead, scattering fragments of light in all directions.
He said I’m looking good. Hmm. I’ve always been under the impression that he sees me solely as G-Ben’s little sister. If I push on his statement, perhaps I can get some kind of affirmation that he sees me as more than that.