The Grudge

9

9

Bode

 

       Lambo was swaying her waist to the sound of Fireboy's Peru with Ed Sheeran. She turned around as if a sixth sense had told her that someone was staring at her. She grinned, staring at him, her hands up in the air and she swayed her waist as if intentionally inviting him in. Or daring him to moved forward and touch her. But the later would definitely be to the detriment of his vital organs. There was a reason she was called Twist. He had witnessed someone’s hands being cut off because he moved a bit too quick on her and she had simply laughed it off. Bode wasn’t foolish. People like Gloria had done worst to him and he wasn’t about to fall into the same ditch the second time. She laughed, moved forward and pulled him forward. “You have a tendency to do something that could cost you a lot right now.” She said, giggling and pushing him down on the nearest chair. “Like what?”

“I don’t know.” She sat beside him, hanging one of her legs on one of his. Bode looked at her. “You have been staring at me from down there for a long time and I figured; you could have something up your sleeves. So, I would like to find out.” She smiled, tracing her fingers along the sleeve of his shirt. Bode sighed. This is exactly why they call her Twist, he thought. He shrugged. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

“You speak fluent English. You are clearly educated, so what are you doing here?”

“Some people just love a different environment.”

She chuckled and moved closer to him. “Are you telling me, that a toxic environment like this, is exactly what you need?” Bode stared at her. His family issues wasn’t exactly the reason why he followed Idris to this party. “So, are you telling me that you like the danger?”

“I like the hustle.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You like the hustle. How long have you been here? A day? Two days?”

“Three months.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “I am bored. Indulge me.” She leaned forward. So, I can become a scapegoat for touching you, He thought. She stared into his eyes and let out a slow smile. “I like you. You know what you’re doing. You clearly rejected a sniff of cocaine from that Buffoon down there.” She nodded at Idris, who now had three ladies around him. How he managed that, was beyond Bode. “I just don’t sniff. But I take weed.”

“And honest.” She noted with a nod.

“Is that why you called me up here? I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to indulge you with, Twist.”

She smirked. “What is your name?”

Bode thought about that question for a second. When he first arrived on the island, he had changed his name. He wanted something that could take him far away from home. A whole new identity. But he hadn’t thought of something different, apart from the name Pablo had given him. “I go by the name, Smoke. That’s what Pablo calls me.”

“I know what my brother calls you. I want to know your real name. The one you were born with.”

Another silence for a second. He looked up at her. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that. Rules are rules.” He shrugged. “But, if you find out yourself, then it won’t come from me.” She laughed and shrugged. “Fair challenge. I hope you know that I can take a challenge?” He nodded. “Good.” She lifted a bottle of Johnny Walker, poured two shots and offered one to him. “And my name is Gloria, by the way.”

He choked halfway through the alcohol. Gloria?

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Zika