Pantie Rule

27 | My Name Is Omotara Bankole

I had to come up with a plan.

I had to leave this house. The excursion was in about six days, according to what Agnes told me. Lewechi; I can't let that fool jump that fence to have some boy's godforsaken pestle shoved into her godnotforsaken mortar. I mean, who in their right senses jumps fences just to have sex? Who? Wait, who am I to think all teenagers are in their right senses, really?

Every teenager is mad in their own way. Period. But some are madder than others. Like me, I'm moderately mad. And I have TBI so maybe very soon I would be professionally mad. No one knows tomorrow. But before I get to be a professional in madness there are some things I've got to take care of. Lewechi first. She's a big moron. A complete Babushka. I don't know what that means?

So, really, there are two types of teenagers.

The:

one. stupid-brained, withered-brained, worm-infested brained, ill-brained ones who think playing with their downstairs is more interesting than playing Scrabble.

Is it?...

Well, I might not be sure, but one thing I'm certain about is that in Scrabble you make more meaningful, comprehensible words than in downstair games... That shit's gonna make you say crazy things...

two. angelic-brained, fresh-brained, not-worm-infested-brained, beautiful-brained ones who think there are far more better games to play than downstair games. For example, ludo, chess, monopoly, scrabble, hide and seek, stuff like that. But I hear downstair games involve some hide and seek, too.

Is that so?

Come to think of it, even the hunger games is not as risky as the downstair games. No, it ain't. At least the hunger games don't leave you pregnant, they just leave you hungry. Right? I haven't really watched that thing, but why will a bunch of people starve themselves just to win a gold medal!

Look, it's clear Lewechi is a staunch option (i) candidate, and I really have to come up with an effective plan to leave this house and stop chaos from happening in Saint Maria, because I'm sure Lewechi is not just going alone, she's going with our roommates, those small, innocent girls! And Rosemary! Oh, that gentle, sweet, poor soul... I've got to save them, to save them from Lewechi's stupidity!

Think, Omotara, think! What can you do?

I know!

I don't know. I have to call Taye. Maybe, just maybe I have to call him. Hm... Maybe...

His chest and arms can't just be the only attractive things he's got, I'm sure he has the brains, too, I mean he wears glasses. Almost all the guys I know that wear glasses are smart. Taye, Marcus... Marcus... Um... Who else? Who else...? Well, whatever! All I know is that guys with glasses are smart. So back to Taye,  I'm sure he would be able to help me. I picked up my phone, dialled his number, and clicked that telephone icon that wouldn't stop confusing me with such striking similarities to the WhatsApp icon.

“Hey, Taye!” I said a little too loudly, propping my butt on my bed so hard it half-groaned. You know when something is trying to groan and it doesn't? Yeah, that's it!

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Calm down, Tarasy.” He yawned into the phone and I just waited till he finished singing the national anthem with his yawn, then I continued. “I can see you are tired.” I said, shutting one eye in amusement. “Why do you always have to be a papa bear.”

He emitted a short, unsatisfactory laughter, but whatever, I need much more than this laughter right now. “How do you do, mama bear?”

“How do you do?” I replied, pretty impatient already.