9|ℬᎾℳᎯ

   STANDING OUTSIDE, daydreaming and wondering when I lost my flair for honesty.

   I never planned to tell him the truth, but I didn't believe it would be so easy to lie to him either. I mean he's Ivan, I've never lied to him before.

   Maybe I shouldn't have lied.

   But what if he has changed, what if he doesn't understand and reacts badly? I don't know how he deals with grief, we haven't discussed how his father died or how he dealt with it, or what happened since he left. I only know he has a brother, Tosin and his mom is pretty and bourgeois, and he graduated high school last year, but that's all.

   It's absurd that I don't know where his new house is, but he's visited mine a hundred times since we were kids. He knows Chinny, but I don't think he has other friends or relatives. He knows about my SCD, but he doesn't talk about the time after he left.

   He knows I'd like to take up a future as a screenwriter, or journalist, or traveller, but he only talks about sketching. He knows Mom has been a blogger and event planner forever, I don't know what his mom does, it must be something big for her to afford this car.

   I can comfortably give him a pop quiz on my life, and expect him to score ninety-nine points out of one hundred, because he knows everything there is to know except that now I'm dying.

   Keeping secrets—not lies—untold truths, is not wrong, and maybe in all his ten years of being away, he learned that too.

   "I see you really like the car." His voice stabs through the air behind me and all my thoughts vanish.

   "You startled me."

   "Sorry. Didn't mean to," he says.

   "So?" I ask

   His lips spread into a toothy grin, presenting a perfectly groomed set of teeth.

   "She really is in a good mood, so we get to ride in it today."

   "Cool then, what do you have in mind?"

   "Movies, Ice-cream afterwards, then I'll bring you back home." His brown eyes twinkle.

   "Is this like a date or . . ."

   "Just friends going out for some fun. Your mother emphasized that the rest of the rules stand."

   I smirk. "Promise me you'll stop saying mother, and I'll go with you."

   His eyes sparkle again as he laughs. "It's going to take some practice. "

   "Give me ten minutes then," I say and run into the house.

   I get to my room and open my wardrobe. My phone beeps. I pull it out from my back pocket. I see a flaming red emoji. She must hate me now. I call back, she picks up on the first ring.

   "Chin-chin. Hey babe."

   "Don't babe me. What on earth is your problem? Sadist you I can take. Silent you?"

   "The appointment went great. Thanks for asking," I try to guilt trip her.

   "I did ask. You didn't reply. I could have died; I could be a ghost talking to you now."

   That should be me in a few months.

   "Enough with the dying, and come on, you don't believe that ghost crap," I say.

   "I'll believe pretty much anything. Do you know how much torture it is, to not know what your best friend is up to at every given moment?"

   "Oh, please shut up." I hear the static buzz on the other end of the call.

   "Chinny, for heaven's sake I didn't mean it literally." I sigh. "We're going out. Would you like to come?"

   "Now, you're talking." She speaks.

   I laugh. The way only Chinny makes me laugh, like someone overcome by psychotic hysteria and hiccups. She laughs too, because she can't help it.

   "So, you up?" I ask after our laughter dies down.

   "But wait. You said 'we', who's we?"

   I don't respond. I want her to connect the dots.

   "IVAN?" She squeals and I laugh again.

   "He asked Mom and she said yes."

   "OMG! What happened to the rules?" she asks.

   "It's just an adjustment of privileges," I say.

   She laughs hard on the other end, I join her.

   "We'd pick you up on our way."

   "Pick me up, as in?"

   "He's driving his mom's car and it's a freaking Benz."

   "No way! Pick me up ya'll."

   "See you then."

   "Look nice!" she adds as I hang up.

   I put my phone down and start rummaging through my wardrobe. I choose a denim pinafore, a white crop tee-shirt for the inside and my white bouncy trainers. I look in the mirror at my very yellow eyes then swallow a tablet of Astyfer—my blood booster with a glass of water on my nightstand.

   I don't know what to do with my hair so I leave it free. Hoping people would be polite enough to not touch it. Then I douse myself in my fairy-dream body mist, making sure to spread the glitters on my face.

  I'm not very good at makeup and it's not like mom would let me leave the house like a muse so, brushed eyebrows, a swipe of mascara and my clear sugar-blush lip gloss are all I can deal with. I smack my lips at my reflection on the mirror.

   "Mom!" I yell out.

   "Downstairs!"

   I skip down the staircase, taking it two at a time as glee radiates off my skin like sea breeze. She's in the sitting room, looking through an Adedimi Fagbenro Bridal Lookbook

   "Oh, you look . . . normal. . . I guess," she says it like she was expecting me to look abnormal.

   "Chic is the word, Mom," I say. I can see Ivan through the window. He's making a phone call.

   "So, you guys are off then?" she interrupts my staring.

   "Yes, we'll pick Chinny up on our way."

   "She's joining you guys? On your first . . ."

   "Well it's not a date and besides, she asked yesterday."

   "Sure, that's a good idea?"

   "Nothing surer," I say, nodding.

   She doesn't look convinced that Chinny coming along is a good idea.

   "If you're so sure, I guess it's fine then."

   "Okay, got to go. See you." I hug her.

   "Boma," she calls before I skip out the front door. "Chastity is best preserved in uncompromising situations. Don't do anything funny. It won't be funny if you two get yourselves caught up in a web of sexual immorality. Plus, your health isn't the best right now, so don't do anything that could trigger a crisis. I raised you well and I'm trusting you to make the right decisions. I can do that right?" she has her left eyebrow raised.

   "You can trust me mom, I won't break the rules." I hug her again. This time it's longer. My head is screaming ten minutes as I walk out the door.

   "Sorry I took longer," I say to him.

   "I'll call you if anything is up," he drops the call. "Wow!" he turns around and smiles in a way that makes you feel like he's innocent.

   "Nice outfit, showing off your . . . legs." I don't think he knows he's staring.

   "Thank you," I try to un-knock them, they don't comply.

   "And it was only five minutes longer," he checks his wristwatch.

   "I thought it was like fifteen minutes. Are you okay?"

   "Yeah, why?"

   "Nothing, you seem off after the phone call," I say, watching his face.

   "Oh, that was nothing, just uhmm," he lets out a deep breath. "Just family stuff."

   I don't know how to pry but he's going to have to tell me more than family stuff. I walk towards the gate.

   "I wanted Chinny to come along, hope you don't mind, I called her already."

   "Sure, no p. We'd pick her up?" he asks as I open the gate.

   "Her house is on the next street," I say.

   He drives out. I close the gate and get into the car.

   I'm sitting beside him in the passenger seat and I'm observing this car. The ignition is a button, the car moves like it's gliding. I must say I'm envious, I thought Mom's old Toyota was a car.

   "Bo, seatbelt."

   "What. You're my mom now?" I ask. He laughs

   "It's safe, just do it."

   "Fine, daddy." I roll my eyes, he laughs.

   "That's the second time you're calling me daddy. Isn't that breaking the rules?"

   "Silly boy." I smack his shoulder. "I didn't know your mom was rich. Where does she work?" I ask.

   "Work? Uhmm, she does a lot of stuff. Multipreneur," he says

   "So, you're a rich boy?" I nudge his arm and smile.

   "I won't see it that way." He smiles, "it's complicated."

   "OK. But aren't you scared you'll get kidnapped by just driving this kind of car around?"

   "So far, I wouldn't worry about that." He says and I can't shake the loose ends.

   I look at him, half aglow smiles, sustained eye contacts, hanging up weird calls, and I imagine myself walking into something I openly know I should avoid. I don't want to care about his 'mom's car' and 'family stuff' but I do. He probably cares that I'm a sickler, and he would most likely care about the non-infinite number of days I have left.

   "Ivan," I call. I want him to tell me about his family and what it was like after they moved.

   He doesn't respond, his eyes are glued to the windscreen, and his mind is absent.

   "Ivan." I wonder what he's thinking about.

   "Ivan!"