Chapter 9: Makeup, Mixer, and Tension

After training, as we dey waka go hostel, my roommate Halima ask, "Anu, that guy wey talk to you just now—na Tunde from UNILAG?"

I shock. "You sabi am too?"

Halima get mouth. She sabi all the campus gist. She dey press phone as she dey waka, her own never finish.

"My boyfriend dey UNILAG, same year with am. That guy na physics guru, dey win international gold, girls dey rush am."

Her gist dey long, she no dey ever short for story. Sometimes e dey tire me, but e dey make boredom run.

She dey gossip. "He come talk to you!"

Her eyes wide, like say I win lottery. She dey expect big tori.

"He no dey toast me," I talk, dey smile. "With all those fine girls, you think say he go reason ordinary me?"

I chuckle, but for mind, na only God know as e dey pain me.

Besides, him and Kamsi—since high school reach now—don finally meet at the top.

The story wey all of us hear na say their love na heaven match—star boy and star girl.

Three days ago, Kamsi post big bouquet of red roses wey Tunde give am. Caption: "Ambiguous love sweet die."

The thing trend for class group, some girls dey para, some dey hail.

Dem just remain one step to clear road.

"Who talk say state top scorer ordinary?" Halima vex. "You independent, sabi hustle. You sef fine—just small makeup, you go burst everywhere!"

As proof, after training, she dig her box, bring out makeup set. She work my face for like thirty minutes, then shout to another roommate, "Quick, bring your small black dress. Tonight’s interschool mixer—Anu go shock dem!"

You suppose see the wahala—eyebrow, lashes, powder everywhere. My eye dey tear, but I gree make dem finish.

Me, my face just normal, but I tall, slim, face shape dey okay. After makeup, I look mirror, shock.

Halima hang arm for my neck. "See? I talk am—Anu, you fine!"

Her joy pure, the way she dey hype me, e fit lift dead spirit.

The hall dey full, small plastic chairs everywhere, music from last week’s hit dey play low for background.

For the mixer, Halima and I find seat. I just pick melon, never even chop am, empty chair opposite me drag. I look up—na Tunde sit down. He eye scan me, lips raise small. "See as we jam."

Na so my hand dey shake, melon nearly land for ground. My heart dey beat drum for chest.

Him two guys rush come, dey pant.

"Tunde bro, why you waka fast?"

"See babes everywhere, why you come hide for corner—"

Dem look, quiet, then sit down.

Boys dey yan small, but na Tunde matter dey their eye.

Game start—truth or dare to break ice. After some rounds, bottle point Tunde. I dey face my melon, when person ask, "Senior Tunde, tell us about your love life—everybody wan hear."

Table go silent. All eyes dey wait. Tunde talk slow:

"One girl play me strong thing. E pain me."

Him voice dey crack small. Everybody dey expect tori, but na only that line drop.

As he talk finish, he look me direct. "Abi no be so, junior?"

The eye contact long pass NEPA cable. My body cold, but I just package face.