I shook my head.
‘It’s when first year students resume on campus, all the higher-level boys come looking for the girls because we’re fresh blood. And very soon, all the finest girls are taken and all the senior boys have new girlfriends.’
‘Well, it’s been a week and no one has “rushed” at me yet,’ I said.
‘Like you would notice,’ Zina muttered, turning away.
The very next day I met Ademola at the departmental orientation for new students.
‘It is my honour to welcome you all to the Faculty of Law. My name is Ademola Adetayo and I am the Vice President of the Law Students’ Society,’ he announced to our class with a triumphant grin, the whiteness of his teeth augmented by his skin. He was dark, the kind of luminous dusk that stopped you in your tracks. He spoke with the inspired confidence of one who was accustomed to being listened to.
Halfway through his speech, I felt Zina’s fingers pinch my side. ‘He’s looking at you!’ she whispered.
‘You’re sure it’s not you he’s looking at?’ I countered – Zina was the one they called mami water – and rolled my eyes, catching his. He winked.
‘Ooohhh,’ Zina squealed into my ear.
‘SHHHH!’ the girl beside us cautioned sharply, her hand moving swiftly across the pages of her notebook, jotting down his every word as if we would be tested on them.
Zina hissed. ‘Efiko!’
‘Don’t you know who he is?’ Zina asked me once the session was over.
‘You won’t even congratulate me first?’ I challenged. I’d just been elected as the class representative after a rather unusual nomination process.
‘Always try,’ my mother used to say, and so I’d put my hand up when Ademola had asked for volunteers for the role of class representative.
Zina laughed. ‘You’re already behaving high and mighty with me? If you now become president of the country nko? Anyway, do you know or do you not?’
‘No. I do NOT.’
‘That’s why I’m here for you,’ she returned. ‘He’s the son of a former diplomat and his family owns one of the largest law firms in the country. The rumour is that he’s descended from a royal family. I mean his name literally means “crown is added to my wealth”. He’s smart, tall, dark and handsome. He’s hot cake! And he’s winking at you!’
I stared at her, surprised by the amount of information she had on this stranger. ‘We’ve been here for less than two weeks. How do you know all this, Zina?’
She shook her head. ‘You should listen more to gossip, Ego. It might save you one day.’ If only she’d known how prescient those words would turn out to be.
The following evening, I found a heart-shaped note stuck with tape to my door – ‘Meet me at the cafeteria at 8pm’. By 8pm, I was at the cafeteria wearing my most fitted dress, buoyed by Zina’s encouragement despite my wariness.
Ademola’s choice of place and time had been deliberate. The cafeteria was where everyone congregated after classes. The boys converged around the television at one end to catch up on the football matches, the couples whispered about their days to each other, and the hungry gathered around the counters screaming orders to the attendants. Aunty give me big meat o. Not that one! Yes, yes. That one. Ademola wanted people to see, to whisper as he ordered from the most expensive vendor, when he insisted I choose whatever I wanted with a possessive palm on my waist, and while he held out a chair for me to sit.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said when we were seated, staring at my dress.
‘Thank you,’ I said, pulling at its top in discomfort.
‘You know I could make your time smoother here. All you need to do is trust me.’
The word went round – Ademola had a new girlfriend.
‘They said he’s your boyfriend o,’ Zina informed me after class the next day even though I’d never had a boyfriend. I was still unconvinced.
‘What are you waiting for? Are you playing hard to get?’ Zina complained when over a month and a half had passed and I was still yet to agree to be Ademola’s girlfriend. The tongues had become a wagging flame.
I wasn’t playing hard to get – I didn’t know how to – but there was an infinitesimal something that held me back. I could see fate playing the same tricks it had on my mother. Ademola’s popularity, his charm, his commanding aura. The enticing smile that never seemed to fully reach his eyes, just like my father’s. It was a fate I’d sworn never to repeat.
Maybe if I’d listened more to gossip, I would have realised how it appeared to everyone else – a first year student, a nobody, unyielding to the tireless efforts of a perfect boy who could get whoever he wanted.
Just before the Christmas break, Ademola ushered me to a corner table in the cafeteria.
‘Ego, what do you want me to do? I don’t understand.’ He sounded frustrated, like he was at his wits’ end. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned and the collar looked unironed; he was always impeccable. I stared at the collar, then at the empty plates of food – I’d offered to pay but he refused – and I wondered if I was the problem.
‘I don’t know,’ I mumbled truthfully.
He grabbed my hand. ‘Come spend Christmas with my family. We have a house in England, we can get to know each other better and you can meet my parents.’
My father also had a house in England.
I wondered what it was about me that convinced him I was the kind of girl to introduce to his family. Was it my height? My ‘seriousness’? The novelty of my rejection?
We said goodbye with a clumsy hug. I wouldn’t spend Christmas with his family. I’d made the decision without asking my parents. My mother would be uncomfortable and my father would see it as another opportunity for a business deal. Ademola’s arms tightened around my waist as I pulled away and his face came down slowly, expectantly. Surely, I would not deny him something as simple as a kiss. I turned my head to the side and his lips connected with my cheek.
His eyes were hard when he raised his head. I saw my father in them.
The new year brought fresh rumours with it. Over the holidays, someone had taken it upon themselves to confirm my father’s identity and I was accused of the greatest sin: pride. Who does she think she is? Is her family better than his? His father can buy hers many times over.
Then a new rumour formed, harsh and vindictive – I’d been assaulted in primary school. It was why I hated boys and wanted nothing to do with someone as good as a prince. And somewhere down the line, the story changed – I’d not turned down Ademola. He’d dumped me when he found out who I really was: bitter and damaged.
I felt a tear forming by the corner of my eye, blurring my vision of Zina’s braid, and wiped at it hastily. Months later and the tongues still wagged.
