14|ℐᏉᎯℕ

   I HOLD HER TIGHTER. She said yes. I want to stay here in this moment for all my life, but I'm worried that she's crying more than necessary. I wait for her to calm down before saying anything.

   "Look at me, Boma." She turns her face up. The corners of her eyes are red and puffy. "You've been crying?" I wipe a stubborn drop of tear holding on to her cheek.

   "I-I'm sorry. I got upset a-and said t-those things. . . I-I just freaked out." Her words are interrupted by her sobs.

   "You already said that in the text. What is this thing that you don't want to tell me?" I ask, looking at her eyes. They're a stilly pale blue, like a Caribbean ocean, with tears like crashing waves and lashes like sails.

   She's so beautiful.

   "If I tell you, it'll change everything." She takes the teddy bear and flowers, dropping them gently the brown sofa.

   "Nothing will change the way I feel about you. It didn't change when I was eight, I couldn't even change it if I wanted. I choose you now and I'll always choose you." I say.

   She turns to look at her mother who also seems to have been crying.

   What's going on?

   "Okay." She looks back at me, easing what I believe is nervous air from her parted lips.

   I begin counting how many black lines cross her blue iris when she reaches her hands out to take mine. They're freezing.

  She looks at her mother again, biting the corner of her bottom lips, a white spot appears when her teeth let go. Her mother nods, smiling a sad smile before walking upstairs.

   Is her mother sick? I better not be right.

   Boma looks back at me, taking a deep breath that I can't afford to take. As it is, I have no space for air in my lungs. 

   Her lips quiver, she bites it again, looking away every now and then with more tears rising in her eyes.

    I finally gather some breath, squeezing her hand. "Tell me, what is the problem?"

   "Ivan," she exhales. "I have progressive organ failure. There's no treatment, and transplant is a long shot so it's terminal."

   My own hands freeze instantly. I withdraw it from hers. "Boma, I don't understand you."

   "You were right, I'm dying." She bites nervously on her finger.

   I was right, Is she joking?

  "I don't understand." I repeat waiting for her to palm my chest, laughing, before telling me that she was playing pranks. There are no signs.

   She's serious?

   "How?" I don't get it. "I'm confused. Are you being serious?"

   "At the hospital, yesterday, the doctor told me." she folds her arms and swallows.

   I feel my eyes start to burn, like they're about to leak acid.

   "Five months is not very long but it's all I have."

   "FIVE MONTHS?" I can't believe my ears. "Did you say five months? Five months till what?" I whisper.

   "After five months. . ."

   I turn away, looking anywhere but at her, squeezing everything I can squeeze in my body, my fists, my eyes, my abdomen, my lips, all to hold back on the waves of pain that threaten to overwhelm me.

   "Ivan, you have to listen to me," she pulls my shoulder around. Looking at her just builds more hurt.

   How can she die? And five months, she'll not even turn 18?

   "I know it's hard and I'll very much like to tell you that I'm joking, but I'm not," she says.

   "Bo, even forever isn't long enough."

   "I don't have forever. Nobody does." She wipes my face with her palm. I find myself leaning into her touch but she pulls her hand away.

   "I can't do life without you Boma. We just started. This is so unfair. If it's because I left all those years, I'm sorry." I want to collapse, and burst into a million pieces.

   "It's not that. Just a nasty complication from the heart attack I had five years ago. I didn't want to tell you because I felt like you'd get scared and leave."

   "You felt that way?"

   "Not many people know how to deal with stuff like this."

   "I'm so sorry."

   "You don't have to be." She says.

   We're both silent for a while, just thinking and absorbing as much as we can from each other.

   "What are you going to do?" I ask.

   "I don't know, after prom, would be the wedding, and there's their honey moon, I didn't take UTME this year, so no university. I'm basically set up to wait till . . ."

   "Don't say it. Forever is what you make it."

   "How about you? What will you do after?" She asks.

   "I don't know what after is without you." I say.

   She rolls her eyes, "Ivan, you really don't have to."

   "I know and I'm not doing anything out of my will. You're my friend, friends don't go running when storms come, they dance together in the rain."

   She smiles, fixing a straight gaze at my eyes. "There's no storm, or rain. I'll die, and you'll have to move on."

   I hear it well. My brain analyses it, tears it apart, understands it. Being away, I found hope knowing she was in Port-Harcourt, what will I do this time, not knowing where she is, where to find her?

   "Does Chinny know?" I ask

   "No. Chinny won't be able to handle it. I'm not going to tell her."

   "That would break her to pieces."

   "I don't know if it's the best choice, but I can't handle living while she knows I'm dying soon. It's just going to be too much for her."

   "So that means I can handle it then."

   "Not telling you is like keeping a secret from myself. Plus you seem like a likely candidate for denial following Mom."

   "Am I stupid for loving you more?" I ask

   "Honestly?" she asks

   "Honestly." I say

   "Yes," she chuckles quietly. "You're pretty stupid. I know where this"—she looks between us with a small uncertain smile forming on her lower lip—"is going and I don't see a happy end."

   "Then allow me to be stupid," I smile. "Allow this." I look between us the same way she just did. "And leave the end for the end." I say.

   Her lips curl into a full smile and her eyes twinkle. I feel my veins coursing with sparks. I want to kiss her, but I must practice restraint.

   It's hard.

   "You're looking at me like you want to eat me." she says

   "Maybe I just would." I tell her.

   "You're the worst friend in the universe." She hugs me again, this time, she breathes so deep I can feel the weight fall off her shoulders. I breathe deep too. Then we're swaying. I twirl her around and hug her again, she laughs.

   "We're kind of breaking the rules," she whispers.

   "Maybe we should break more?"

   "You're bad influence."

   "It's your fault, I was good before I came back." She laughs as I run my hand over her back.

   Imagining that 'You've got a friend in me' by Randy Newman plays on an old stereo in the background, we sway, giggling along, and swaying some more. I feel her smiling on my chest. I smile too, but my eyes won't stop dribbling.

   We are jolted out of our little moment when her Mother clears her throat. We disengage and look as innocent as possible. I wipe my eyes to conceal my tears. She smiles at me.

   "As much as I'd really hate to do this," she walks down the stairs gracefully. "It's almost 7 and you should get going now," she says to me. "It's not exactly safe to be driving around in that flashy car."

   You should tell Boma everything now.

   I hear it loud and clear in my head, I turn to look at her. She still has the twinkle in her eyes.

   Just tell her!

   "Okay," I say.

   "Okay." Boma heaves and laughs like she's breathing better now. I hand her the Teddy Bear and flowers from the couch.

   "They cost more than they look," I say.

   "The VVIP tickets are a confirmation. Hope your Mom isn't going to get pissed, you've spent a lot of money today."

   "She wouldn't know, I get all the alerts."

   "Lucky you." She says, smirking at her Mom.

   "Indeed." I say, "I'm truly lucky."

   "What are you doing tomorrow?" she asks.

   Mother still hasn't called.

   "I'll be working with my mother." I say

   "Mom is travelling in the morning." She says.

   "Call me if you're bored."

   "Definitely." She smiles.

   "Uhmm, you two. Don't." Her mother shakes her head like she just heard an abomination. Boma winks at me.

   "You can trust us mom," she says.

   "No. I choose not to. Ivan don't come around till I'm back. Let's respect the rules."

   We stand there for a while. Nobody moving and nobody saying anything. Then all three of us begin laughing. We laugh for a long time only pausing to take short breaths.

   I wipe my eyes when the laughing settles down.

   "You should go now." Boma wipes hers.

   "Thank you, ma, for today, and for bringing this girl into the world." I say. Boma's cheeks flush as squints at me with her lips folded in.

   "Well, my pleasure." Her mother says.

   It's taking everything I have in me to not walk back in there and kiss her.

   Is it weird that she just told me she's dying but I feel like we're more alive?