17|ℬᎾℳᎯ

   WOAH. In this sleeveless chandelier coloured ball gown, my breasts look like boobs. The difference being that, boobs actually look appealing, they feature in magazines and erotic poetry, and breasts, they are purely biological in appearance and function. Nothing new.

   The fabric cascades to the floor in different layers, the feel of it resembling champagne bubbles. I turn around to see the back and minus the fact that this dress is everything luxurious, and not to mention, expensive, it basically has no back, only straps that join the rest of the ball at the waist line.

   "You're going to have to come out at some point!" Chinny yells. 

   Perfect. 

   I twirl in the mirror again, before gathering the dress and stepping out. 

   I hear Chinny gasp. The other girls in the boutique stop, channeling their gaze towards me. I shrink a bit. Pulling my hands over my eyes, as a cheeky smile engulfs the rest of my visible face. 

   "Like is that even really you?" Chinny breaks the silence.

   "That dress is gorgeous on you dear." A lady remarks. 

   Proud heat rises in my already warm cheeks. "Thank you."

   Chinny skids across the waiting parlour. She immediately picks my hand and spins me. I don't see what she sees, but I feel it, like layers of bubbling clouds dancing around me. 

   I let out a hearty laugh, placing my hand over my mouth so it doesn't sound as ridiculous as it does in my head. 

   Chinny pouts, "I'm jealous now." 

   She pulls me along to a huge ceiling to floor mirror, and I'm so enthralled by the dress, that I begin to smooth invisible creases down its length, running my fingers over the gold rhinestones and sequins that mark the bumpy trail. 

   "You look like a gorgeous golden goddess." Chinny says.

   "I know right?" I turn around again, admiring the way the dress presents my back, highlighting the little muscle tone I have, pronouncing my arch and nearly inventing the perfect backside. 

   The store owner walks towards us, a pair of rhinestone heels in her hands. 

   "The dress is already thirty five thousand, those shoes don't look so cheap." Chinny whispers. 

   I nod, a polite smile carefully placed on my face, ready to refuse the offer.

   "On the house," the woman says. My eyes pop. I turn to Chinny, hers look like they might fall out.

   "Really?"

   She winks, showing off some of the wrinkles that whip the corners of her coffee brown eyes.

   Oh my father lawd.

   "I hope you meet the love of your life when you wear this." She smiles. 

   My whole body feels like bursting into hot rose petals at those words and I start sobbing, she pulls me into a hug.

   "It's alright dear." She says, patting my bare back.

   I wipe my eyes and break the hug with a smile, "Thank you." 

   She waves her fingers like it's nothing. "Wearing this dress alone is like a modelling contract, so, thank you. If anyone asks, just refer them here." The words roll out of her tongue, like that from an experienced marketer, but with the tenderness of a mother's warmth. 

   Somehow, it makes me feel the way I feel, when Mom prepares hot Jollof rice, and drops ripe bananas in front of me. 

   "Of course, Ma," I say.

   "What's your name dear?" She asks

   "Bomate, Ma." 

   "Kalabari?"

   "Yes, Ma." I reply, glancing over to Chinny who has exiled me to my fate of answering endless questions. 

   "Mom or dad?"

   "Mom. My father is German." I quickly put it out there.

   "My husband and I are both Kalabari too, and I must say, we make a beautiful mix with Germans, and how old are you?"

   "Seventeen, Ma." I smile, not sure why she asked.

   "So young, so beautiful, so well trained. My son, Damiete, he's 21, studying Marine Engineering in America. I'm just being a good mother and looking out for him here." She laughs. 

   I laugh too because it would be judged rude that she was the only one who laughed at her unusual joke. 

   "That said," she continues, "I'd love to meet your Mom sometime. Bring her over when you can. Okay?"

   "Okay, Ma."

   "That's alright, let me leave you girls to go ahead with your shopping. When you're done, pay for the dress only, I've informed the cashier about the shoes." 

   "Thank you, Ma. You've been too generous." I courtesy. 

   She pats my back one last time before leaving, a seemingly permanent smile plastered on her face. 

   "Oh! My! God!" Chinny breaks my trance, it feels like I've been holding my breath forever. "Aren't you the luckiest thing alive?" She grabs the shoes, wearing another pout. "Everything you have is better than mine." She studies every tiny dot on each shoe.

   I turn back to the mirror and strike a pose. 

   "Dress, shoes, check. You need a purse or clutch, some jewellery, we'll get those on our way out. Then, we have to get our nails and hair done today. Your hair is never a problem, lucky you, again."

   "Chinny."

   "Well, it's true. Me, I'll have to visit the salon tomorrow, as soon as I leave your house, and you also need to get something for Ivan. Every prom site hosted on Google advises you to give a flower stuff for his lapel." She says

   "Boutonniere?" 

   "That's the one." She claps, "I got one for Albert."

   "I'd get something less traditional. More special." I smack my lips. Chinny's forehead wrinkles. 

   "Okay, it's me that is now traditional abi?" 

   I laugh and stick my tongue out at her. "Errm, Chinny, where's my phone?" 

   "Madam new phone." She hands it over. I see she made herself my screensaver. I roll my eyes at her.

   I hope Ivan's sketch is here. 

   "Did you transfer the files from the other phone?" I ask her.

   "Yeah. Plus, some stuff was already saved on the cloud so I didn't bother." 

    "Take a picture." I hand her the phone and look away, bringing my inner goddess to life. 

   I wonder what he'll say tomorrow, he's so busy, he hasn't called.