I like Kid Cudi music. I’m not trying to advertise or anything like that bit his music speaks to my soul. Why I said that? I have no freaking idea, but now that I’ve said it, let me introduce myself to you.
My name is Henry but you can call me Henry, see what I did there? Anyway, I school at Yaba College of technology which would be from now on be called Yaba-Tech and I’m a third year electrical engineering student. I’m bright, smart, wise and really talented or at least that how I like to think of myself.
I love music but just like Maxwell, my room mate, I hate anything Justin Bieber, One Direction and 5 Seconds of Summer, what a band name. Bunch of gay white boys.
I’m a very reserved person, I love my privacy and I like minding my business and I hate unnecessary gists. I love being alone not because I’m a loner but because that’s just my kind of person, so that’s why I wasn’t really the most excited person in the world when Maxwell came home a day ago or two days ago, not really sure, but he came and started whining in my ears about a new chick he met.
“O boy, you need to see this chick,” he had said the added, “she too set die.”
I hummed weakly since I was really interested in the conversation. Maxwell is a womaniser, a player, a casanova, a lecher a Whatever-you-like-to-call-him and he meets new chick everyday so meeting a new chick wasn’t really a headline news. The story always ended same way, he dumped them after using them. The only girl he probably haven’t used since I have known him is one of his multiple girlfriends like that, Mary-anne. From what he told me, she’s a virgin and he doesn’t want to be the one who would do the bad deed. I believe him.
“She dey stay for this lodge, she been move into the room under our own yesterday,” he continued.
“You follow am talk?” I asked, getting interested. Maxwell had a policy of not dating girls that lived in the same building as him, he felt it was safer that way.
“Sure na, you no trust me?” He asked rhetorically with a smile and then went ahead to give me a well detailed gist of how he had flirted a little with her before helping her to carry a ridiculously ugly pink box (his words) and then pecking her on the chicks before going for football training. I knew the peck part was a lie… It didn’t even fit the whole story at all.
“So how the package dey go now, you don call am?” I asked.
“Not yet oh, I no wan rush things.” He replied. I wanted to laugh at how stupid and strange he sounded but decided it wasn’t worth the stress.
“Na you sabi,” I replied finally and then I was saved by the bell. My phone started ringing. I stared at the screen for a short while and as I saw the caller ID, my mind took me back to recall the events of the past, two weeks ago to be more specific. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pick the call or not.
“Who dey call you?” Maxwell asked as he changed to casual clothing, he had just returned from church. I always wonder why he deceives himself by going to church so often. To each, his own, I guess.
“Na one chick like that,” I replied vaguely and picked the call.
“What’s up?” I said as I walked to the balcony.
“I’m fine, how about you?” The caller replied.
“Not bad. Are you still at school?” I asked in an attempt to sound casual.
“Alright, cool. Hope you day wasn’t stressful, I replied, trying to keep the conversation going.
“No, not at all.” The caller replied coldly.
“Why are you sounding this way?” I asked. A short silence followed.
“I want to see you, we need to talk.” The caller replied. One thing you need to know about females is the only use the phrase “we need to talk” when there is trouble and I’ve always tried to avoid hearing it but I guess I didn’t try enough.
“I’m coming over,” I replied with a loud sigh and hung up.
I’m new to a lot of things. Night clubs, boys, drinking, back stabbing bitches and sex… Yes, sex.
I was brought up in a Deeper Life church home. I didn’t even have the luxury of watching television as my parents refused to buy one, I still don’t understand how watching television would have made me go to hell. Certain religious believes makes me just confused. That was basically how growing up was, try to picture that and maybe you’ll get to understand why I may sound so naïve sometimes.
I am 21 and I only just lost my virginity two weeks ago to the person I least expected to give it to… Henry.
It would have be cool and a little justifiable if he was my boyfriend but he isn’t, rather he is my boyfriend’s room mate.
How it happened? I really can’t say all I know is a bottle of Baileys and about one thousand naira worth of Suya was involved before my panties were pulled off. The funny thing is I don’t really regret it as Henry is a really cool guy and I really like him so what’s the big deal, I’m an adult after all and its just sex, nothing serious can happen between us because he is so secretive and there’s something sinister about him that I can’t really figure out. That’s what I’ve been telling myself all week in an attempt to deceive myself. Truth is I’ve always had a thing for Henry since day one.
I had paid Maxwell a visit a day after we met at a night club – that was my first time of going clubbing. His self contain apartment was well furnished. They had basically everything from a split air conditioner to an expensive looking game console attached to a ’42 inches Samsung LCD television.
Maxwell had introduced me to Henry as his wife even though he hadn’t paid my bride price and Henry had complement on how beautiful I was and then went ahead to say “awon Iyawo wa! So you are the Mary-anne Maxwell has been talking about all week.” Boys! I had thought and chuckled lightly.
“What’s funny?” Henry had asked.
“I just met her yesterday at the club,” Maxwell replied grinning and Henry’s chick grew red in embarrassment.
“You understand as e dey go na?” Henry said with a warm smile and I saw his full features clearly for the first time. He had dimples, pink lips and even though he didn’t have a hot body as Maxwell, he was close enough.
I smiled in response and Henry left the house few minutes later as I tried to get comfy. He returned shortly afterwards and without saying a word to neither me or Maxwell, he walked to the balcony. Soon enough I heard the sound of a match stick being struck which was followed by the smell of smoke. Weed smoke.
I totally fought the urge to ask questions and just talked with Maxwell as we got to know ourselves better. Maxwell didn’t attempt to woo me, let alone touch me and being the naïve girl I am, that was enough reason to call him a good guy, so when he finally wooed me few weeks later, I accepted. This meant I got to see Henry a lot and of course we grew closer as friends which explains why he was at my house a week ago with a bottle of Baileys and a nylon bag filled with Suya.
A friend of mine had died, she had a hole in her heart so I was really sad and updated my whatsapp status as – God giveth and God taketh, Henry probably saw this and buzzed me. He was curious about what was going wrong and I refused to talk about it so he stopped replying me. Thirty minutes later he was at my door steps and well you know the rest.
Now, enough of the reminiscing and back to the present.
There is a problem. A very serious problem. Its been two weeks since I saw Henry let alone talk to him and since my conscience is judging I have seen Maxwell neither. But the problem is really tough and that’s why I called my Henry, my “friend” over to my house not long ago.
Just because courtesy demands it, let me introduce myself to you. My name is Mary-anne and I’m pregnant.
TO BE CONTINUED
Your reactions are highly needed.