Just do it √

Twenty Nine

"Oh my God. Come on, eat". He urged and I complied. He watched me expectantly as I savored the taste of the junk.
"First impression?"
"Not bad". I took another bite. "Not bad at all". He chuckled and returned to his second slice.

I kept taking bite after bite, watching the people around me enjoying the feel of the music playing somewhere. It wasn't until I realized that more than half of the once circle was gone that I noticed the bloating in my stomach and stopped. Marcel didn't stop until the box was empty.

"Free pizza and ice-cream? Why the special treatment browny?"
"Isn't it convenient that you are asking after eating?"
"At least I'm asking. Why did you bring me along?"
I couldn't help it, I gave him the look and his grin reduced to a small smile.

"You brought me here because you thought I was upset from arguing with my dad?" I stole a glance at him and saw that his smile was building up again.
"How sweet". He cooed and I threw my spoon at him.
I gave him time to stop laughing before I asked.
"What were you arguing about anyway? What are you always arguing about?"

"I don't know. It's never something relevant, he just likes getting in my business".
"I'll assume that is what fathers do".
He looked at me through his lashes.
"You wouldn't know?"
"Well, the closest interaction I had with my father was when he stabbed me, after murdering my grandmother so..."

"Jesus, that's dark". His face was crumpled in horror.
"Where is he now?"
"Somewhere murdering wicked grandmothers?"
He looked at me like I was under a microscope.
"It must have been hell to witness that. No wonder you are so..."
"Messed up?"
"I was going to say guarded but messed up will do"
I chucked his spoon at him.

"Seriously though. Messed up is like normal like, aren't we all messed up?"
"You think you are messed up because you have very heated arguments with your dad?"
He suddenly took an interest in his empty cup.
"I don't like arguing with him, it's just, I wish he'd let me be and not try so hard to be the father I no longer need".

I sensed a story coming on so I stayed quiet.

"I grew up in Ibadan, in a large family house where everyone called me an abomination because my mom died giving birth to me. My dad knew this but he was never there to stop them, he abandoned me in that place and moved on with his life. It wasn't until his mother said she could no longer feed my undeserving stomach that he came, bundled me and threw me in Apex so that he wouldn't have to see my face all the time".

He twirled a ring on his finger.
"You know, sometimes I blame my mom for dying, everyone always had nice things to say about her but I never miss her because the only thing she left behind for me was a stigma. Most times I blame myself because everyone can't be wrong, she died because of me, it had come down to her life or mine and she chose mine. I wouldn't give up my life for a life like this".

I sat there watching him because he was so open, even as it wasn't the prettiest sight, it was raw and it was sublime to see that he too could be vulnerable.

"Yeah, definitely messed up". I said and he barked out a laugh.
"At least now you don't feel so lonely". He stated and I smiled in agreement.
"Nice bonding, browny".
"The power of pizza".
"Still can't believe you never had pizza". I shrugged
"It's really not that big of a deal".

"Says the girl who ate half the box".
"Quarter! You are the bulldozer". He chuckled.
"Don't worry, I won't tell your mom you now eat for yourself and your unborn child".
"Shut up. The pity party is over so, let's go home".

          Kunle was home when we got back, curled up on the sofa with my mom as they watched 'My flatmates' on TV. They both turned towards us with smiling faces as we walked through the door.

"Where are you coming from?" He asked us both but his eyes were trained on Marcel who just stared back without responding.
"Domino's pizza". I supplied
"Pizza?" Mom joined in. "Good. I hope you are satisfied because I'm not cooking".
"Don't stress yourself aunty, Amanda ate an entire box".

Marcel moved past me towards his room but I managed to sway his forearm. I turned to my mom to protest but my eyes landed on Kunle who was staring at Marcel's retreating form. I wondered if he knew, if he could see the resentment his son harbored in his heart for him. I felt he knew and it was the reason he tried to be a better father and give Marcel a shot at having a mother figure in his life.

I was beginning to see what they saw, we were all different people, connected by blood and the cracks we left on each other's soul. Our parents hurting us with their abandonment and we doing same to them by merely being born. We could be perfect for each other, the silver lining in our clouds or we could be the force that crashed our broken pieces to dust.

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I might be gone for a while.
Don't hate me