“He asked me how to win my heart.”

I am currently on a phone call with Adisa. And I can hear her sighing ridiculously over the phone.

“You know I can hear you right?”

“Bitch just give him a chance, who knows if he’s the one for you,” She says, while mumbling on chips. Probably.

“Tsk! You know its rude eating over a phone call,” I chastise, wrinkling my nose in distaste at her chosen way of life.

“Bah! I don’t care. It’s just you anyways,” she mutters and I can picture her shrugging her skinny shoulders.

“What do you want to do about it?” she asks, with care seeping into her voice.

Adisa could act all strong and tough love-ish. But she is very caring deep down though it only shows once in a while. In moments like this.

Don’t we all need an Adisa in our lives, I think, nibbling on my green Apple.

“Aww! You care about me, don’t you Ady?” I coo, wanting to make this moment as dramatic as possible.

“Bitch please! I’m only asking so I can calculate the amount of money I’ll squander on ice cream and those miserable cookies that you love so much. Oh lawdy!” she replies so quickly, it is obvious she is lying.

“What do you want to do?” she asks again in a lighter tone.

Throwing my blankets over, I position myself in the middle of my bed, holding my fluffy pillow with my other hand.

“Honestly, Adisa I don’t know what to make of this. I think a part of me still don’t believe it. I’m scared.”

There is silence at the other end.

"Hello? Are you still there?” I ask.

“You should give him a chance.”

“Why should I?”

“He wants to court you. Any guy that still makes use of that word in this age and century need to be kept. For better or for worse,” she utters with a breezy laugh. I laugh along.

“Honestly, what do your heart want? Be real with me.”

“My treacherous heart wants him.” I mumble into the speaker.

“Maybe you should go for it then. What do you feel?”

“I literally ran away from him,” I exclaim.

“Oh poor boy.”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Follow your heart Jade. If anything goes wrong I’ll be here for you.”

“Have I told you are the best friend ever?”

“Well, I’m the only friend you have. Zero competition. Except for this new guy,” she breathes over the phone, exhaling dramatically.

“You sure seemed in support of him the other day.”

“Honestly? I see my bestie wanting to jump a boy with a damn fine ass. Who am I to object to that? As a good friend I need to help you get what you really want, even if you pretend like you don’t,” she pauses, “But I still have to grill him though. He can’t take you away from me like that.” she adds.

I groan at this.

“You are so domineering.”

“Now you are making feel like a bitch. You’re supposed to be the bitch in this relationship,” she shouts into the mouthpiece of her phone taking my sense of hearing with her.

“You should know I’ll never abandon you for a guy, right?”

“Chicks before pricks!” she cackles like an old witch.

“You’re crazy Adisa.”

“Bah! You infected me.”

“Good night Ady.”

“I hope you choke in your sleep. I told you to stop calling me A –”.

I end the phone call before she could complete that statement. I drift off into La La Land with high dreams of kissing a cocoa brown eyes boy with sweet sensuous lips.

*

The definition of courtship I had in mind is totally different from what I see on Wikipedia—the popular e-library.

Courtship is not a few date and hang out—that consists mainly of hot rabid sex.

It is defined as ‘the experience of developing a deep relationship with someone with a view to seeing if marriage is right for the couple, without the complexity of sexual intimacy being part of the relationship’.

Now, sex I can do and totally understand. But emotions? I am not good in that aspect.

For once in my life I am scared.

It is in this mental disposition that I receive a call from my Maama.

“What??!! Why are you coming over to visit me?” I question.

This comes as a shock as she has never came to see me in school. Like ever. And this is my final year.

It smells fishy.

“Don’t you want me there?” she clucks bitterly.

“Of course I do Maama,” I exclaim frowning at the tone she used. Like I’ll ever turn my back on her.

“I am shocked, that’s all,” I say, springing to my feet as she spoke.

“Is everything fine at home?” I question, padding my pink socked feet across to the kitchen to get something into my howling belly.

“Yes it is.”

She is lying. That much I can garner from her tone.

So I form a theory of mine.

“What did father do to you again?” I ask angrily with my voice rising by the minute.

“He did nothing,” she respond, too quickly. Too quickly for it to be the truth.

“Are you sure, Maama?” I press on.

Angry at the fact that she will always cover up for father.

Angry that she will never stand up for herself.

Thoughts like this make my blood hot and steamy.

It also reminds me of why I have never believed in commitment, love or marriage as I know it will always turn sour.

This is a shocker for me and it feels like a douse of boiling water.

This shock makes me to situate myself on the IKEA foldable chair I got from the store with Adisa, in the left corner of my kitchen.

I look out my kitchen window. Gazing off into the far distance.

How did I ever let myself forget about my familial situation?

How did I allow myself to like a guy?

What is happening me?

Those are the questions flowing through my mind.

“Jade! Are you still there?” Maama’s rising voice brings me back into focus.

“Yeah. I’m listening to you,” I reply calmly. Anger is steadily rising in me. Anger at me. Anger at Maama.

“I’ll be coming this weekend. Today is Wednesday, so that’ll be in four days.” she plods on.

”Alright Maama. Just give me a call when you are around.” I say vaguely.

“Take care of yourself Jade,” she pauses. “I love you.”

I never realized how much I need to hear this till now, and it hit a deep place in my soul.

A deep primal place longing to be loved and wanted.

A place that I have spent my whole life building a wall around for protection.

And it makes my eyes tear up.

Swallowing back, I whisper, “I love you too Maama.”

*

There are times when the body and soul gets weary and troubled.

Moments when we are at our lowest points.

Today is one of those times for me.

Exam preparation is draining me out, though I still have a whole five weeks before them.

I think of Maama and the abuse she faces continually from father. I do not know the best way to help.

Finally, I am fed up of thinking about Timi all the time.

What will it be like if I give him a yes? My wandering and overactive mind usually thinks.

I’ve always had my theory about love and I’ve craftily built these reinforced walls to protect myself against love.

However, this thing with Timi is slowly pulling my walls apart.

A part of me wants that, however, I am still very much scared of giving anything love-related a chance.

My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my depressing thoughts. It is a call from Timi.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey Jade,” he says, his voice resounding as if an enclosed place.

“Hi Timi,” I respond timidly, my heart is beating in my chest at an alarming rate. His husky voice is getting to me.

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine, just got back from the library.”

“Never thought you were nerdy. I think it’s sexy,” he replies.

“I’m not nerdy!” I shout, all my nervousness gone. I despise it when people call me nerdy.

I honestly don’t have a reason for hating it that much. I guess we will never find out.

“You totally are,” he responds, laughing over the phone at my situation.

I wish I can smack that laughter out of him.

Again, it is getting to me.

There is a brief silence after his laughter died down. I feel so calm around him now. Like we’re old friends. Meanwhile we’ve only known each other for a week now. Life is so weird.

“It’s been two days now,” he says so lowly, I almost didn’t hear him.

“Two days since what?” I ask, trying to play dumb.

“You know what I’m talking about, Jade,” he says, seeing right through my indifference. “I’ll wait Jade. I will wait till you accept me. Till you let me court you,” he adds with so much confidence in his voice.

I do not know how to react to this.

Well, that is a lie because my heart starts beating and happy hormones floods me.

In short, my heart, the stupid part of me, is happy about this.

However, my head isn’t.

I am scared.

“Do you even know what courtship means?” I ask, frustrated at his determination.

“Yeah I do. I want to eventually marry you. I know you are the one. I just know it,” he responds with so much conviction my heart almost burst out.

“You are scaring me with your talks. Not only that, I think you are a very selfish and self-centered human. How could you talk like that? What if I never want to marry you? I don’t even want to court you! Why do you keep trying to manipulate me? I do not want to have anything to do with you!!! Don’t you get that?????” I shout, wincing slightly at the end at how loud I babbled.

“Why did you pick my call if you did not want to have anything to do with me?” he responds, so calmly, I feel immature for shouting out so.

Surely, he has a point.

However, I am immensely angry at that.

“Don’t try to play smart with me. And don’t call me again,” I force out. Like my heart isn’t breaking at that. Like tears aren’t gathering like clouds in the corner of my eyes.

“Is that what you want Jade?” he whispers, as if trying to hold himself together. Geez! What have I done?

“How did this conversation turn out like this?” he asks.

Rhetorically I’m sure, before letting out a bitter laugh.

“Yes Timi, I am done with you, do not call me back. Have a nice life,” I fake cheer and end the call.

I cry myself to sleep at night.

*

My alarm chirps off, again and again. And it takes everything in me not to slam it shut or something along that destructive thought.

Sadly, it is another day, a Saturday.

My body and soul hurt as if a sword was plunged in my belly.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and another as I lounge on my mattress in my Avengers pajamas, trying to recount and remind my blasted self of all the reasons why I turned Timi down. More like shot him down.

The memories of all the time that I’ve spent with him keeps replaying in my head like a damn wrecked record.

I wonder how he is doing and if he feels the same emptiness that I’m feeling right now.

With all my contempt for love and love related issues, I realize that I am quite helpless in this regard as I have irrevocably fallen for him.

Glancing at the clock situated on my wall, I realize I have been skulking for two hours now.

I hit my mattress in pent-up anger.

However, it results to me feeling worse.

“Bang! Bang!! Bang!!!”

Accurately, my heart rate increased with a significant notch upon hearing that.

It is her.

Banging my door.

Again.

“You again!” I exclaim in anger while standing akimbo beside my open door.

“Yass! Bitch!” she screams, nudging me asides, and skips into my room.

Turning around, I lick my mouth at the sight of her bum cladded in those tight jean trousers, couple with her sweatshirt and Nike sneakers, she is looking like a snack. Not those ones you munch on, but those that are so tasty they end up being your favorite.

“Where are you coming from?” I ask fixing my eyes on her.” Or should I say where are you going to?”

“How do you know to ask that?” she shoots back, looking intrigued.

Ha-ha, my investigation skills is always on point.

“The way you’re so dressed up,” I reply with a smirk on my face while motioning in an up and down movement at her.

“Are you telling me a girl can’t dress up pretty just for herself?” she questions with a great scowl on her face.

You see, Adisa is a great feminist and a little remark as such can light up her ever-burning feminism fire.

“Of course not,” I answer, with my hands in the air as I am not in the mood to listen to her ‘Laws Guiding Feminism—LGF 401’.

I am simply not in the mood.

“Please wipe that frown off your face,” I placate giving her mushy-sucky air kisses.

“Ewwwww! Get those lips away from me lady!!! I’m taken,” she screams running away from me which is quite unsuccessful.

“I will have you know that my cupid bow lips are the most sought after in the world,” I imply haughtily.

Adisa scoffs at this.

“That aside, what do you mean by you are taken?”

I am taken aback by that statement as Adisa shares the same "no love" theory as I do.

“I’m seeing Channing Tatum,” she mutters, standing tall while flipping her ponytail at me like a bitch.

“So you are saying Channing Tatum can beat this?” I point at myself, fake glaring at her.

She gives me an ‘Are you kidding me?’ look.

“You do know he is married right?”

“Ugh! That’s only temporary,” she waves off, jumping on my mattress disturbing my blanket and fluffy pillow.

“You know you can sit quietly on the mattress right?” I return skeptically, shaking my head vigorously, glaring at her.

“But you know I won’t,” she replies with her tongue hanging out like a three year old puppy.

Whatever!

“Spill it,” she shouts suddenly, now comfortably sat on my mattress with her legs crossed in a yoga mode.

“What do you mean?” I ask defensively.

“You are still in your pajamas at 10 in the morning, shitty music is not playing from that retarded Apple speaker of yours and your curtains are down,” she replies smugly, counting her fingers like she is checking off a list.

“First off, my music is not shitty, R Kelly is still the best musician to me”—-she rolls her eyes at this, I continue undeterred-—“Second off, my Apple speaker is not retarded, you are only an Appleist, you don’t even eat apples, I still don’t know why. Third off, it’s pretty cold this morning and you know that.”

“You know you can’t lie to me Jade. Something is wrong. Besides, your eyes are swollen like you’ve been crying,” she observes quietly.

“Damn it, here I thought I was the only one with investigative skills in this relationship,” I reply finally.

“Yeah, you thought wrong.”

“So tell me Jade, what’s wrong?” she continues, hugging my fluffy pillow to her chest.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter.

“But you have to,” Adisa sing-song.

“It’s annoying and embarrassing to talk about,” I counter.

“But you still have to,” she sing-song again.

“You know that voice of yours should be locked in a box and thrown in the sea,” I threw back. “If that’s possible,” I add, thoughtfully.

“Thank you Jade,” she answers sarcastically. “However, you don’t get to switch topics. Not with me,” she drones on.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” I reply, throwing my hands helplessly in the air from my horizontal position on my bed.

“You know a problem shared is half-solved, right?” she carries on, trying to get me to talk.

“I shot him down,” I say finally.

“What????!!!!!! Are you a murderer?” she shouts dramatically with her hands to chest.

I roll my eyes at that.

“Of course not.”

“Then what do you mean by that statement?”

“I turned Timi down,” I mutter.

Silence.

There is total silence.

Student shouts and car honks can be heard in the distance.

Chicken soup smell drifts in—-probably from the adjoining apartment-—tantalizing my nostrils.

Most importantly, Adisa is quiet.

And Adisa is never quiet, she is either talking, jumping or skipping like a monkey.

“We’re going for ice-cream,” she says finally.

So, thirty minutes later, we are on the road to Ice & Nice for ice-cream.

********

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