~Sarima's pov~

"Agbani Darego!" The familiar teasing voice called out, and I turned my attention away from the bustling main road to the entrance of the building. The little smile he had on his face was contagious.

Kene was not the most attractive guy I'd seen before but very handsome regardless, dark and innocent-faced.

He was far from innocent, not with the rubbish he was constantly spewing when around me.

I rolled my eyes at the name. This was a new one. He never ran short of those cheesy names. Talk about a sweet mouth.

He finally stood before me, arms folded across his chest, his height intimidating. I wasn't short, but I couldn't help but feel so when he was beside me or nearby. His countenance held that amused, playful look always present when he looked my way.

"Miss world today abi?" I asked, looking up at his face.

"Who's calling you, Miss world?" He gave me a mock condescending look. "I meant Agbani as in lekpa...You know dry fish?" He gesticulated. "Yeah, that's what I meant when I called you Agbani."

"Funny," I said dryly, my gaze moving away from him, seeing that we were earning a few curious glances from people around, with the way he stood over me intimately conversing. His steady gaze on my face.

"I'm not even slim, so I can't pass as a lekpa, abeg." I looked away from him again, focusing on the vast trucks static on the interlocked floor beside the entrance. I stepped back, trying to gain a little distance from our position.

He wasn't even paying attention anymore as he beckoned on a garden egg hawker walking across from us to come.

He bought some of it with groundnut and started heading in.

He turned when he got to the entrance noticing I was still at the spot he'd left me with my frown.

"Agbani, c'mon," he pleaded, "do you want to roast?" he nodded at the scorching sky.

"Stop calling me that," my frown was still in place as I approached him, cringing at the noise coming from the road and glancing back to the express as a lorry honked unnecessarily.

He stared at my face.

"What?" I asked, catching his stare.

He sheepishly smiled.

I didn't know when a smile escaped my lips.

"Fine girl." He gave me that admiring look that always warmed my insides when on display.

"Uncle, let's be going." I pulled him towards the entryway, stopping the tension from ensuing further and trying to control my blush from escaping.

"You just can't resist the urge to touch me, can you?" He turned due to my pull, and I smacked his muscled arm at his statement.

"You're welcome on board", he winked in encouragement.

"Tarh!"

He chuckled lightly.

He pushed open one of the heavy double glass doors with the 'push' sign on it and gestured for me to get in first.

Who's doing ladies first with you?

"After you," I said to him.

He let out an exaggerated eye roll with a sigh as he obliged.

"I hope you weren't pulling my legs when you said you'd help me get those materials. I don't want my coming here to be in vain." I pouted as I walked beside him, my eyes roving through the environment.

Beautifully designed furniture and cabinets graced the vast marble-floored hall, ranging from beds to chairs, stools, ottomans, cushions and loveseats to vanity/dressing tables, intricately designed cabinets.

I'd never been inside here before, and I was awed. Trying to ignore the long looks, a female and another teenage male worker spared me.

"Wow!" I mouthed. I hadn't expected this when furniture making had come to my mind.

"At least you saw me, so your coming ain't in vain," he replied to my initial statement. Ignorant of my present awe-stricken state.

"Who wants to see you?" I replied offhandedly, my attention still in the hall. I caught a glance of myself and some stubborn wisps of hair escaping the strand of the crochet weave I'd used to hold it into a high bun as we walked past a large mirror.

"This place is nice o" I nudged him playfully, smiling up at him in pride.

"That's why you want to break my rib abi?" He kept his face straight as we exited the hall to a loggia that could pass like an alley with gravel spread on the floor. This place was quite big. Looking at it from the road didn't do justice to its proper form.

"So you own this place?"

He was silent, glancing at me as we turned and got into another building.

"Apparently." Came his sarcastic response.

This part was noisy as work was going on here, from the sound of drilling to sawing and gisting of the workers. Sounds from Sewing machines. The floor around here was littered with foams, spoiled pins, small chips of wood materials and sawdust. The open cubicles gave everyone their space for work.

We finally got to a silent place, apart from the loud singing of a young man.

Kene ushered me into a quiet room, which from the looks of things, was an office in guise.

"Sit, I'll be back" he left the room while I inspected it, peeping outside the window to see more men working on the field.

The compound was large.

The voice of the man singing got nearer, and I grimaced, hearing him sing confidently with the wrong lyrics. He was singing King by fireboy.

Finally, I put a face to the voice.

Jude

Stop spoiling that song biko. I frowned at him.

His light skinned bareback was glistening with sweat as he continuously trampled on something on the floor, maybe an insect.

He was still spoiling fireboy's single-king.

I looked away as he began to turn around and moved away from the window in case he wanted to come over to exchange pleasantries.

Kene returned with a small tray holding the washed garden eggs and a smaller plate containing the groundnut.

"Hey, don't!"

Too late. I'd already grabbed two garden eggs from the tray before he dropped them on the desk.

"What?" I asked, taking a large bite of the vegetable as he gave me an annoyed look. "You can't even be hospitable to your visitor."

He sighed like he was tired of me.

"I hope you came with your money o. Those materials ain't for free." He gave me a duh look.

"I never said I wanted them for free. Every time you'll be showing off the Igbo man in you."

"I can't help it. The Obi nwanne in me keeps raising its beautiful head for the world to notice."

I saw a maggot whining like a Bollywood dancer on the garden egg I was chewing.

I flung it off my hand, a Yelp escaping my mouth as I hurriedly went over to the window, spitting out all the content I'd gotten in.

Kene, who had a confused frown initially, had caught on to my predicament and chuckled.

It was the laughter I'd gotten from my schoolmates and people around the neighbourhood, even Somi, when I was in JSS1. Then I'd shaved a part of my hair and left eyebrow with a shaving stick I saw in my parent's bedroom, and Calista had decided to shave all of the remaining hair off my head and eyebrows to even it out.

My face had become a joy/laughter giver to anyone who glanced at it.

I collected water from the fridge and rinsed my mouth.

Our eyes met, and he laughed again.

Goat.

I dropped the water on the table, took up one of the garden eggs and scrutinised it.

"You still want to eat?"

"Before nko?"

He shrugged, pushing the plate of groundnut towards me and going over to take a seat, leaving my standing form as I bit the garden egg carefully, opening it and looking inside, my eyes squinted in concentration.

The coast is clear.

I happily chewed, going to the window with a handful to look outside at the workers.

"These guys are quite strong," I told him, my eyes trained outside and on my garden eggs too.

"They're not stronger than me."

I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand, feeling his presence beside me.

"Abegi, lemme hear."

Soon we were getting looks from the guys on the field, Jude waved with a gusto smile, and I waved back. "Why are they looking at us in that funny way?" I asked him.

He shrugged, "They obviously think we have a thing."

I felt the butterflies in my belly and fought the urge not to look up at him to see if he was being playful as usual.

"No be only." I Shrugged off what he said, eventually finding my voice.

"Hot cake like me, Husband material one thousand yards."

I laughed at his expression and tone.

He was spotting a smile of his own too as he watched me laugh. I felt self-conscious and toned down my laughter. I was laughing too hard, the kind of laughter only my sisters and close friends saw. This was not the kind of laugh I wanted to display around him. It was supposed to be cute, not boisterous.

I smiled to ease the tension that was building up again.

"You both look so much alike", he finally broke the silence, looking straight ahead into the field. His words referencing Somi and I.

"We're twins, of course," I said in a bored tone.

"Yeah, but there's supposed to be at least the slightest difference."

I raised my scarred hands to him, and he swatted them away playfully, "That's not what I meant."

I frowned at him. "Well, her hair is longer than mine", because she always used protective hairstyles on it while I mostly left mine in its natural form.

"Her bum is bigger than yours."

Yeah, she was thicker too.

But I still stared up at him like he'd grown another head while he looked straight ahead. I finally caught a playful smile on his lips and hit him across his chest, looking back straight wards.

He chuckled, "Your voice is huskier than hers too."

I looked up at him again.

So he'd noticed that difference. He must have been paying real attention to have gotten that knowledge.

"Who's older?" He asked.

"She is, not necessarily just 2 minutes".

He nodded. "By the way, how'd you get that scar on your hand?" He stared down at it.

I remember being in the kitchen with Calista the week she returned from her trip to Enugu, when she'd started acting strange. That was the week she'd told us not to call her mum anymore but her name, Calista. How she always mistook Somi for me and vice versa. I remembered how she'd changed from a loving mother to a stranger. It was baffling at that time. Nothing about that confused me anymore. It didn't take anything for someone to change.

I was frying plantain in the kitchen, and she'd come in, startled by her sudden presence cause she'd become quite scary and foreign to us. The frying spoon hit the frying pan's handle, and it was about to fall to the ground. I'd saved it in a bid to avoid her numerous impatient scolding, and the hot oil had fried my hand.

I wasn't able to do anything with that hand for a good period. After that, I recalled always sleeping with a bucket of cold water beside my bed to insert my burning hands.

The week of that incident, Daddy had become a vegetable.

He died a few weeks later, and everything turned around.

"Sarima," he touched my hand.

"Mmmh?" I looked up at him.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I asked him back, shrugging.

"You seem a bit off," he frowned.

Was that concern I saw on his face? But wait, did he call me by my name?

"I'm good." I gave him a small smile. "The scar was an accident. I was frying dodo."

He smiled back, "It's food that'll kill you, sha."

I smiled, uneasily as he studied the spot on my hand that was darker than the rest of my body. My heart palpitated.

He never calls me by my name. Always something cheesy.

"So how much is the..." I was beginning to ask for the amount he would take for the materials while he interrupted me.

"...I was just pulling your legs."

"How? You didn't get the materials?"

"Of course I did. I'm talking about making payment for it."

On cue, Tejiri came in after knocking on the door with a big Ghana must Go bag.

"Oh, it's here already," I muttered, acknowledging the man's small wave and greeting.

"Shenkess go fit carry this bag?" The guy had asked.

"Leave it there." Kene had dismissed him abruptly.

What's doing this one?

"I can't carry the bag o." I complained. "Ehen about the money..."

"You heard me before, I'll change my mind o, see as you're fronting, like you want to pay me."

"Ehn...I want to pay!"

"Ehn, i want to pay", he mimicked me placing his hands on his waist as I did.

I rolled my eyes.

"Oya, pay me." He spoke, and we stared at each other until I broke into a smile. "Thief, after claiming feminist."

I laughed at his words, going over to the bag and squatting, unzipping it to check its content." Did I ever tell you I was one?" I asked.

"Well, I'm a feminist, so mind you," He replied with a straight face.

I smiled from happiness, peering into the bag. "I don't know how to thank youuu."

"Anything for my smallie," Came his response as he turned his face tapping on his cheek for me to kiss.

I rolled my eyes, tightening my smile."You're not well at all."

"Shoemaker mirimma", he teased me.

"Carpenter Ekene."

He laughed. "No one calls me Ekene."

"No one calls me mirimma."

"See your tiny head. When are they calling off your strike, jare?"

"Shebi, I resemble ASUU official?"

"Simple 'I don't know' will not kill you, sha."

"I feel better replying that way."

"You're just insufferable," he muttered under his breath. "You guys submitted your projects before the strike, aye?"

"Nah."

"You'll stay home till the end of the year."

I wasn't bothered. I needed to make enough money to add to the little I already had before school resumed, and I wasn't even halfway near, so the strike was a blessing in disguise for me to get my shit together before project and final exams began.

"Which uni did you even attend? And what course?" I asked him.

"Aunti, free me." He dumped the crumbs from the garden eggs we'd finished in the trash.

"I sha know you didn't go to school." I shrugged, and he chuckled.

I spent a little more time with him before leaving. He helped me with the bag till we got out of the building.

He also boarded an uber for me, and I got in, thanking him again while he patted my shoulder. He stood on the pedestrian walkway, watching me with his ever-present smile as the car went into motion.

My foolish smile was imprinted on my face until I got home.

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