"Mom, I'm home" I announced as I closed the front door.
Á silent house welcomed me. I checked the time on my wrist watch; 4:17pm. That's weird, she should be home by now.
I decided to go get a snack from the kitchen then I heard voices from down the hallway.
It sounded like the voices were coming from the weapon room.
Did someone break in? Is my mom in trouble?
In order not to jeopardize my safety, I have to make silent moves. I took two knives from the kitchen cabinet and tip toed to the weapon room.
I opened the door very silently. I was prepared to strike until I saw who it was - my mom and.... Mr Davis?
Mr Davis was seated, showing my mom something on his laptop while my mom leaned down with her elbows on the table which made her cleavage exposed.
"Mr Davis?" I spoke "What are you doing here?"
I was surprised. He's never been to our house before.
"Is that your greeting?" my mom retorted, standing up straight.
I immediately came to my senses. I definitely do not want to get slapped this hot afternoon. We all know how Nigerian mothers are.
"Good afternoon mom. Good afternoon, sir"
"Good afternoon, Ada" Mr Davis answered me
"How was school?" my mom inquired.
"Fine...." I trailed off.
My eyes landed on their intertwined hands on the table. My mom quickly detached herself from him when she caught me looking at it. Mr. Davis cleared his throat.
"I just came to give your mom some details on a new case" Mr. Davis explained.
That increased my suspicions. He doesn't need to come here to give my mom details. In fact, everything official should be handled at the head office. Unless...he's here for something unofficial.
"Why here?" I asked him "You could have given her details at the office"
"Don't you have homework to do?" my mom asked.
Her eyes narrowed at me- secretly telling me to get out. All Nigerian children can relate to this. We can understand our mothers just by looking at their expressions.
"Yes, I do" I replied.
Actually, I don't.
"Then go get started"
"But..."
"Go!"
"Yes ma"
I left the room and closed the door behind me.
She's up to something. In fact, they both are. I'm definitely going to find out what it is.
*
An hour of siesta and thirty minutes of joblessness later, I decided to get some work done on my reading table in my room.
I felt more comfortable in my room than anywhere else. It's like a safe haven for me. The pink heart wall stickers reminded me of my father. He hung them up for me. The white walls soothed me.
I love my space. I love everything in this room from the fully stacked bookshelves to the celebrity posters on the wall to the pink tiles and the purple fluffy couch in the corner.
After all the hustles and bustles of life, I can come here to relax. Nobody judges me here. Here, I am free.
I thought of Justin as I flipped the pages of my physics textbook while playing with the earrings my dad got for me when I was seven. I never took them off.
I sighed dreamily as I recalled all our conversations. I know we just met, but with him, I can be myself. That's all I have ever wanted. I don't have to pretend.
My phone buzzed indicating that I have a WhatsApp message. I took it and opened my chats.
1503 messages from 4 chats.
The thousands of messages were obviously from my class group chat. They never stop talking, do they? I'm barely active on the group unless it's for something important. Nobody wants to talk to me anyway.
I was about to go offline until I saw a message from an unsaved number. I opened it. It was a picture of a book cover of the novel "Gerald's Game" by Stephen King.
A message was under the picture.
"Some nightmares never completely ended"
It's a quote from the book. I chuckled. It doesn't take a genius to know who it is. I saved the contact immediately.
Me: Hello to you too, Justin. What a lovely way to say hi
Justin: Greetings are overrated. I quote books to talk to cool girls instead.
Me: You're crazy.
Justin: Only the best people are.
The vibe was smooth. The chats weren't forced. He replied as fast as I did. I instantly forgot all about my assignments.
We were texting for a very long time. We never stopped at 'wyd' and then got stuck. Not at all. We talked about everything.
Me: What school did you come from?
Justin: Greendale Academy in America.
Me: Why come to Nigeria then?
Justin: My mom had to move because of work.
Me: I see.
Justin: Whatcha doingggggg
Me: Reading physics. You?
Justin: Interesting. I'm reading too but it's a novel.
Me: Which one?
Photo
It's a photo of a novel "Master of the game" by Sidney Sheldon.
Me: I love that novel.
Justin: Same here.
"Ada" a voice boomed.
I was so frightened that my phone almost fell from my hand. I put my hand on my chest in an attempt to calm my fast-beating heart.
My mom stood by the wide-open door. I didn't even hear her get in. How long has she been standing there?
"Mom, you scared me"
She eyes me all the way up to down in only a way African mothers can. An expression of distaste rested on her face.
"Aren't you supposed to be reading?" she said "Who are you talking to?"
Uh oh. If she finds out it's a boy, she might seize my phone.
"It's uh i-i. it's a friend"
"Boy abi?"
How did she know?
"No ma" I lied.
Remind me to change Justin's name to "Justina" or something or to another girl's name on my phone just in case she sees it.
"Ada!"
"Yes ma"
"Don't make me seize that phone"
"Yes ma"
"Now get back to reading"
She turned away to leave but I suddenly remembered something.
"Mom?"
"Yes" she came back.
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
She raised her eyebrow in confusion.
"About?"
"About the real reason Mr Davis came here. Is there something going on between you two?"
She eyed me.... again!
"It's none of your business"
She was about to shut the door.
"It is actually" I said "You're my mother"
"Ada!"
'Mom"
She was shocked. I've never replied her that way before.
"I'm not a child anymore. Please, let me know"
She sighed.
"There's nothing going on honey but..."
"But you like him" I finished for her.
A mixture of guilt and sadness appeared on her face. Guilt probably from moving on after my father's death. Sadness because she's bemused and conflicted.
She entered my room and sat down on my couch. I turned my chair to face her.
"It's not that simple" she said.
"Why? Dad would want you to be happy. It's been over nine years"
She bit her nails – a trait displayed whenever she 's nervous. I smiled. My dad always teased her about it.
"What if your father is still alive? I don't want him to come home and..."
I chuckled lightly.
"Mom, we saw when dad was shot"
"But..."
"No buts. Dad is gone mom. Sadly, he isn't ever coming back. You deserve to be happy"
She hung her head low. Soon, I heard the sound of her sobs.
"Mom" I whispered "Don't cry"
A tear dropped down from my cheek. Great, now I'm crying too.
"I miss him so much" she cried "I'm still waiting for him to come home"
The sadness and loneliness dripping from her tone made my heart break into two.
"I'm sorry. I miss him too"
She wiped her tears and stood up. It's like one second, she's crying, the next she remembers she's a single mom and has to be strong for both of us.
"Thanks for the advice honey" her voice cracked a little "Study, okay?"
"Okay mom" I nodded.
She patted my head and smiled weakly at me then left my room.
My phone vibrated. I opened it and saw a message from Justin.
Justin: I like talking to you.
I smiled.
Me: Me too.
Justin: Wanna know something?
Me: What is it?
Justin: I can't wait to see you tomorrow.