Pantie Rule

21 | There's MORE

"What do you possibly know that I don't." I toned up challengingly as though I was going to fight him any minute. Maybe I would.

He quickly licked his lips conspicuously which had obviously dried and crackled. "You really want to know."

"Of course, yes. I have every right to know. Why would you even tell me if I wouldn't want to know" I paused, stopping myself from being sassy and insensitive, I've been that for the past few weeks now. "Martin, please tell me." I waited in perfect silence.

"I'm sorry if I sounded crazy, Omotara, I just want you to know that I've really got your back, you don't have to—"

"Go on with the news, Martin." I couldn't help but recognize how I sounded like Fatima there.

He sighed, "would you at least sit down first?"

"There are no chairs here, Smarty-pants."

"Did I say; sit on the floor?"

I sighed exasperatedly, and sagged my shoulders as I followed him into one of the computer rooms.

I stared at all the desktops and reflected to why it was banned at first. Then I thought maybe I could tease him—Martin. "You watch porn?" I turned to him, placing my hand on my right hip and shifting my weight on my right foot.

"Do you?" He gestured to me.

"What, no!" I pushed my tongue out in disgust, sputtering nothing actually.

"Same here." He said like he was bored.

I quirked my lips in defiance and propped my butt on the desk beside him as he typed away at a computer. I sat facing the computer not knowing what to expect, and feeling bored myself, but if he had anything worth telling about Fatima, I had to wait and listen. The suddenly I felt something tugging under my skirt. What the hell was that? My eyes furrowed in suspicion.

"Um... would you at least shift your..." He trailed, "from my mouse' cord?" He said, raising an eyebrow. How did he do that? Anytime I tried raising an eyebrow I ended up raising two.

"Oh, sure!" I said, immediately shooting my butt up while scratching the back of my neck, forcing a smile. "Your mouse, yea." I said, almost embarrassingly. I couldn't just try not being weird. I was hardly ever like this. I am hardly ever like this. I went back to sitting on the desk. "My glasses!" He sure was alarmed, "they're there, in my bag, and you're sitting on it!" He growled.

"Oh, sorry." I quickly shot up again. "Sorry."

"Omotara, you've said 'sorry' too much. Would you at least stop? It doesn't fit you."

I rolled my eyes as he flipped the glasses open and stuck them right where they belonged on his cute square face.

Omotara. Shut. Up.

Got to say it's been really long I've seeing him wearing this his signature, light blue, slick glasses. He placed his hand on the mouse, and the cursor danced on the screen.

"I tried researching her on Google and of course I found her." He clicked. "The news was carried by almost every blog and gossip site but look—" He clicked, then his finger went to the screen. "Read it."

...News reaching the media says that the fifteen-year old victim, Fatima Adulramon, daughter of Shehu Ahmed Adulramon died after a prolong illness.