<Let's not get attached. Let's not set boundaries. Let's introduce each other to our family and friends- Ibreathemagic>

|16|

RUMMAGING THROUGH the piles of scattered gowns and jeans on the bed, I flipped a curly strand off my forehead, frustration quickly seeping through me.

I spied a ragged black jean and a white crop top amidst the clutter. Thanking the Lord, I clutched them and turned around to ask the wonderful person who stood in my room with me.

"I've found a cloth! Ripped jeans and crop top?" I asked, puffing my cheeks up. She'd better let me wear this.

"Honey, are you seriously considering that? Trousers and tops?! No. You're going to his parent's house, not a teen party," Mom declared adamant, her hand at her hips as she looked me up and down.

If I had any worries---which I didn't---that mom wouldn't permit me going out with Kian, they were for nothing. So I was not too surprised that she had agreed to allow me to go to Mr. Fields' party. Heck, she was even more excited than I was, insisting I wear a nice rock the hell out of 'em---according to her---outfit. God knows if it was my pick, I'll put on a simple tee-shirt and jeans.

Discarding them, I flopped down on the bed, letting a tired sigh escape my lips. Arrghh! When will I get ready for this party?

"If you finally see a dress worthy enough for his parents, let me know. I'll probably sleep at this rate and maybe when I wake up, the party's over," I sarcastically commented, deciding to leave it up to her. No say in the matter.

"Mother knows best, dear."

I refrained from rolling my eyes, although she'd not see me do that. A mountain of clothes obstructed me from view.

Gazing at the ceiling I thought about Kian. Throughout the week I had been sitting down with him for lunch and sometimes he took me home. Not normal right? I thought so too. When did we become buddies? I still have a hard time accepting that Kian changed. Boys are weird to figure out, for real.

"How about this one?"

Hearing her exhilarating tone, I sat up and craned my neck to where she knelt on the wooden floor this time around, clothes almost swamping her down. It's funny how I have a gazillion dresses and hardly wear them to any occasion. The Kardashians bestow on me your fashion killing sense.

Mom held a cream flowing gown with glittery butterfly designs etched all over it. There was no strap attached, so if I wore it my shoulders would be left bare. Nah, this is not my style.

Grimacing, I screeched out, "Are you kidding me?! This is a party, not an engagement or something!" Eek! She seriously thinks we have a thing, Kian and I.

Isn't there, cheeky bad mind chipped in, uncalled for. Nope, there isn't.

You sure, good mind asked. Absolutely.

"Chill. If you don't like it I'll get another. Although I don't see how you don't like it. Nwa nke a sef!" She grudgingly placed the ridiculous sheer gown aside and resumed her search of a suitable outfit for me. Hope it goes well.

Despite how tense I was, my shoulders quaked silently in laughter. Whenever mom was a tad upset, her African accent came out and she used one of those her languages. Her face went all scrunched up, lips forming a petulant pout like now. It was funny to observe, really.

All the amusement flew off once a question disturbing the hell out of me came scurrying back again. Why had I accepted Kian's invitation? Wasn't my experience at the other party enough? My mind refused to give up the answer so I lay once more and stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling. The temptation to sleep lured me so badly but I resisted. Kudos Olay.

Shadows. . . which means it's around 5 in the evening and I haven't found any clothes yet. Arrrghh!

"Mom! It's getting late. Can't you hurry?!" I screamed, jumping up from the soft tempting bed and furiously began my search.

A tiny silky voice that was neither good or bad whispered, why are you bothered about the cloth you'll wear. It's just a party.

But I want to impress his parents! I wailed. Then added fast, and his friends too! Why? I had no reply to that question.

It was what played through my mind after I liked a dress Mom later found. Even after Kian came to pick me up exactly at 6, just as he said he would. It continued ricocheting inside me even as I entered his rosemary scented car. Why?

***

"You look beautiful, Jamila," Kian softly said as he paved the Audi's headlights down the dark streets, his focus not wavering from the road.

I woke up from my why thoughts and glanced at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied, a corner of his lip curling upwards in a smile or a smirk. I wasn't too sure, I could only see his side profile.

Casting my gaze towards the window, I watched the houses and trees as we zoomed past them.

Okay I won't lie, but I feel oddly elated now that he complimented me. When I had arrived at the doorway, arrayed in a nude strappy mesh gown, black wedges, big hula hoop earrings, a makeup free face with a shimmer of lip gloss on my lips and my hair left as a halo on my head, he hadn't really glanced at me. He had just greeted Mom and indicated I entered the car. So him giving me a compliment now was thrilling.

I peeked a look at him. For someone whose dad was throwing a party, his outfit was pretty simple. Decked up in a plain white t-shirt inside a denim jacket with blue coloured jeans underneath, Kian's tousled blonde hair whipped to the movement of the cool fresh breeze blowing inside the car. Casually dressed or not he's still hot.

"You don't look bad yourself."

He chuckled, cocking a roguish eyebrow and still facing forward. "Is that your way of saying I'm so drop dead gorgeous you can't seem to peel your eyes away?"

I brought my face down, more blood rushing to my already heated cheeks. "No, that's not what I meant."

"Aww she's blushing. Why are you blushing?" He was laughing out loud now, pure humour shining in his blue eyes. How did he know I was blushing? Come on, my skin is a lifesaver or so I thought. Melanin save me already!

"Nothing," came my muffled reply.

"Then nothing is my middle name."

"Yea-- wait what?!" I was about to agree when I understood what he meant. I blushed harder while his athletic body still trembled.

"It's not funny." Hmmph. I sank lower in my seat, wishing I was at home reading or even better writing. I hate people making fun of me.

"I'm playing with you Jamila."

His right hand on the steering wheel, he gently punched my almost bare shoulder with the left. That slight touch of his knuckles against my sensitive skin sent a frisson of unknown sensations down my arm and I gulped, tightening my legs together.

He glanced at me, then my laps. "You're uncomfortable. Why?" This guy should be a detective because he observed a lot.

Out of nowhere, a car came too close to ours while Kian continued staring at my thighs oblivious of the upcoming danger. Uh oh.

I yelled, "Eyes on the road Kian!"

He dodged the vehicle right on time, avoiding a likely accident. Thank you Lord.

"Sorry about that," he apologized.

"Who's staring now?" I smirked, crossing my arms and no longer mortified.

"You. Because, unlike you who's still looking at me, I'm not moving my eyes an inch from the road" Ha! He thinks he's smart.

Stupid capillaries decided to dilate again, making my facial features go red.

"And she blushes," he taunted.

"I'm not!" I retorted. I looked out to the window, the wind cooling my face.

"Yes you were, right at the moment I said that." Arghh!

"Ouhh, Jamila's blushing. She's blushing, face red as a tomato. . ." He composed a mocking tune, singing it all the way as we drove to his house, manly laughter ringing in my ears. Meanwhile I stayed silent, miffed and a tiny part of me was laughing with him too.

***

We arrived by 6:30 p.m on the dot. The party started once it was 7:00, Kian had told me that earlier. I gawked foolishly at the Fields house as I came out of the Audi, my eyes round with starry wonder.

It wasn't what I was expecting. Sure enough, it appeared to be a gigantic opulent mansion that was painted white, huge motherfracking pillars and a large driveway which contained five luxurious cars manning the lot. A lofty pool, studded with miniature light thingy was situated next to the brightly lit driveway. I have to admit though, the Fields are fracking loaded. What I had expected was chairs and canopies to be erected on the lawn and yet there was none. Perhaps it's an indoor party.

I was right. Kian led me inside and I had to prevent my eyes from falling off because of the glare of too much splendour. In fact Noah's house, despite how magnificent it was, held nothing to Kian's.

Their living room was plush; two big chandeliers hung in the middle of the ceiling. Lush ottomans and sofas were strategically sprinkled around a glass central table, small pillows kept on them. In the middle were twin majestic curving staircases which I supposed led upwards to other rooms. My mom would have exclaimed, "Mad o!" if she saw this.

I observed a man, probably in his early forties with a shock of salt and pepper hair on his surprisingly not bald head. This man, who must be Kian's dad---they had the same striking facial features except that he had a mole on his chin--- and the birthday boy, sat on one of the dining tables, looking at us intently. A waiter stood by his side, hands folded behind and stoic.

'Hello son. I've been waiting. Where are your friends?" he asked in a gravely voice, toying with the wine inside a glass cup. He didn't acknowledge my presence. Turns out that his father was unaware too.

Kian beamed a benevolent smile and pushed me a little bit forward. "She's here."

I was by his side, trying to fade into the creamy wallpaper background. His dad appeared strict.

"All I see is a black girl. I'm talking about your white friends." The calm before the storm. He speared me a disgusted look and shook his head dismissively. Seems birthday boy got a thorn up his rich ass.

Gulping the white wine noisily, he stood up, that telltale gaze I usually saw in some people's eyes graced his now. If before I was wondering where Kian got his racism tendency from, then I finally know.

"Dad! She is my friend," Kian stressed, trying to explain himself but his dad heard none of it.

"Get her out of my house immediately! I don't need any black vermin here!" Mr. Fields shouted in a thunderous voice, rattling my ears. I took a few steps backwards, my wedges almost slipping on the beautiful tiled floor when he smashed the delicately designed drinking cup on the equally glass table. It was a wonder it didn't crack, that's the table.

I stood behind Kian aghast. Guess I dressed up all for nothing.

Happy Birthday Mr. Fields. Not.

A/N: Here's chapter 16. And oof, Mr. Fields issa bitch. Btw this is my fave chapter so far! Kian and Olay be bonding lol, despite his obnoxious ways. Thanks ho__sanna for being such a darling. Guys check out her works, totally great! Don't forget to vote and comment please.

*Nwa nke a sef (Igbo) means This child in English.

Nita.