K A I R A

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My statement brought smiles to the sisters' faces, though Adelewa muttered something about my constant mispronunciation of her name. Right now, I didn't care if the De in her name was pronounced as a dee or a day.

I shrugged, not voicing out my thoughts, and followed them down to the garage where Lola was waiting patiently in her navy blue car. The forgotten anxiety resurfaced as we exited the compound for our destinations. I tried bobbing my head nonchalantly to the gospel music booming from the speakers all for nothing. My stomach loved the discomforting flips it was doing.

"What's on your mind?" Lola asked, her eyes fixated on the road. "You've been acting off since this morning."

"Nothing."

"Shior. Nothing indeed."

She continued driving, seemingly saving her words for another time. I stared out at the young people trying to earn a living for themselves, through the window. My stomach churned some more.

I was foolish enough to think my aunt would let go of the issue until she asked again when the Lagos traffic held us on the spot. "What is it? Is it because Noel isn't present for your open day?"

How can she ask that so freely? With Lewa and Ebun—

I turned to check and relaxed visibly in the passenger seat. Lewa had her ears plugged while Ebun was fast asleep.

"I don't know." I seemed to be doing a lot of slouching this morning.

"You most certainly know," said Lola, like she had mind-reading abilities. "You're never unsure about what you feel and why you feel them."

Not all the time, aunt.

I faced the window once again. "Well, sometimes."

"And this is one of them times, abi?" She pressed on, trying so hard to get the words out of my mouth.

But there's a way just not admitting stuff made them less daunting to me. I'd rather not acknowledge the feeling that's welling in me out loud to anyone. Acknowledging negative feelings made it seem like I was sealing an invisible pact, like I was accepting them, welcoming whatever they'd bring.

"Nathaniel."

"It's just Nathan, aunty Lolade." I groaned. Lola liked figuratively stepping on my toes, calling me names that I wasn't given, trying to make me spill all of my thoughts. We'd gone over this ages ago.

"Oh, what's that I'm hearing? I told you Lola is just fine too. You can't even pronounce it well till now." Well, it ain't like it's entirely my fault. "Can you tell me why that is, Nathan?"

"Lola..."

"Come on. You know I hate seeing you brooding and all."

"I am not brooding."

"Oh, you aren't?" She managed to switch glances between me and the tarred road. "Then the romance novel I read last night described it wrong. You sure have all the qualifications to be called that right now."

My facial muscles eased a bit. I guessed it was because my forty years old aunt still read novels in-between work and taking care of three kids.

"Is that a smile?"

I corrected my mistake that instance. "It's not."

"My bad. I guess I need an eye check."

"Definitely. I know of a certain doctor." My lips slowly formed a smile, Lola's too. And we both ended up laughing for a while, the kind of laugh without a reason, the needed kind of laugh. We stopped at about the same moment, and I was grateful Lola still focused on the road.