Why I Want To Be Bad 33

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-33-

 

AMAKA

 

The plan was simple. I was to lay low for as long as I could, don’t attract any unnecessary attention to myself and if I’m contacted by anybody again, specifically the secret service agent, I am to inform Maxwell right away, apparently he would know what to do and give orders on the next step of action.

 

I wanted to go home after I had calmed down a notch but Maxwell had given me enough reasons as to why it was best I slept at his place and not go to mine.

 

This was actually the first time I had been inside his room. We dated for a while in the past, thinking about it now, I’m not sure if I can actually call that dating. We just had a relationship where we went out to fun places and we always retired to my house, mostly attributed to the fact I lived alone and he simply did not.

 

“You can have the bed,” he offered.

 

“For wetin na?” Henry questioned.

 

“Guy, na our visitor. Let’s act like gentlemen,” he said.

 

“Oga forget that thing! My back dey pain me so I no go fit crash for ground,” he said.

 

“You don forget say one small bed dey for inside wardrobe?” he asked, “You go use that one.”

 

Henry accepted defeat and went on to bring out the small bed which was rolled up in the wardrobe. He spread it down at the feet of the big bed and then went on to lay it with a bedsheet he got from the wardrobe. He snatched one of the pillows from the big bed and threw it on the small one before falling like a log of wood on it.

 

As I laid on the big bed, Maxwell retired back to the balcony and sat on the chair there. I watched him as he expertly rolled up a joint and lit it.

 

“I never knew you smoked?” I said as I joined in in the balcony. I could not sleep.

 

“I only smoke when I need to,” he replied. “And I think you can use a drag right now as well, do you care for?” He stretched the joint towards me.

 

“Nah, I don’t smoke,” I said and sat on the paint bucket that was there. “But I drink though,” I picked up the half-filled bottle of vodka and poured a bit into a cup.

 

He watched me take a sip before speaking again, “You realize this is the first time you’re stepping your foot in my house, yeah?”

 

Apparently he too had noticed even though it was never an issue.

 

“I guess so. Your place is nicer than mine, I wonder why we did not come her more often?” I asked taking another sip in the process.

 

“Dhurr!” he dragged, “Henry is always around na and we are not exactly porn stars,” he giggled as he spoke.

 

I understood what he meant. All we basically did was go to fun places together and f-ck.

 

“It’s only you that know what you are talking about,” I joked.

 

“I am not going to argue because I know you know better,” he replied and I laughed. “Those were good days?” he added.

 

There was a long silence after he said this. I flashed back to the so many moments we had spent together and how happy I was. Memories of laughter, peace and of course great sex crossed my mind.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

 

“Sure, shoot,” he replied.

 

“What happened to us? Why did we cut of contact?” I whispered. I only just realized how much I had missed Maxwell. I finally saw reasons why Mary-Anne could not get him out of her head, he was the perfect guy.

 

He took two quick drags in quick succession and I watched as the smoke from the edge of the joint flowed freely to the sky and dispersed.

 

“I don’t know really, I guess we both had a lot on our plates,” he said.

 

Fair enough answer, I sure as hell had my plate filled to a point I really needed to offload it or get a bigger plate.

 

He waited for a response from me but got none so he went to take a long drag from the joint which was almost finished. The joint was so tiny he burnt his fingers in the process, he had to flap the blunt in reflex action as it had stuck to his thumb and as it fell to the ground he stepped on it to make sure it was quenched. He stood up from the chair immediately and stretched his arms upward, a yawn was released in the process. He wore no shirt so his abs all protruded in my face, I found that very hot.

 

”I need to crash, I have been trying to sleep all day but something keep on coming up,” he complained as he walked into the bedroom.

 

“Yeah, I need to crash as well,” I said and followed him into the room.

 

He brought out a wrapper from the wardrobe and threw it at me. He then brought out a blanket which he wanted to spread on the floor but I looked at the bed and saw it was too big for me, besides I longed for how I trembled whenever I felt his breath hit my neck just before he kissed me.

 

“Come and join me on the bed, its big enough to accommodate us,” I said.

 

“Don’t worry about me dear, enjoy yourself, it’s all yours for the night,” he replied.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, do you want me to die of cold?” I asked.

 

He thought about it, “not at all, if you insist.”

 

“I insist,” I replied.

 

He turned around and climbed on the bed. I joined him on it but backed him.

 

“Good night babe,” I said as I threw the wrapper over my legs.

 

There was a brief silence but then he rolled closer to me and placed his hands around me. I shivered at his touch.

 

“Good night Sarah,” he whispered in my ears. I was surprised he knew my English name, I was sure I never told him. I wanted to ask but that might have spoilt the moment so I kept it to myself.

 

“Sleep tight,” I said but deep within me I was sure we were definitely not going to sleep sh-t.

 

***

 

MARY-ANNE

 

Morning came in flash. I recalled getting home from the lounge and passing out almost immediately but by the time I opened my eyes to go an ease myself it was already morning.

 

I thought about going back to bed and actually attempted it but the sun rays which my light curtain had failed to block kept on hitting my eyes till I was forced to give up the fight.

 

I did my chores and quickly showered then I realised I had nothing important to do since school was on an indefinite strike therefore, my lectures for the day and till further notice were cancelled.

 

It is times like this that I hated the fact that I had zero friends.

 

I am a fan of literature and prose is my preferred genre but I read basically everything I can get my hands on though.

 

The internet however made reading a lot more easier as thousands of books and stories are published online on a daily basis and since I happened to be in need of something to keep myself busy, I decided to go online in other to check if my favourite writer, one Chistar guy like that, had posted a new chapter of his ongoing series on his blog and I was glad when I saw that he had. The guy is talented, I’ll give him that much but he is lazy and as a result of that had not achieved half of what he was capable of. He probably does not understand that the key to success is consistency.

 

He always had a way of filling each chapter with suspense and this chapter was clearly no exception as  I held my breath while I read through but just when I was about to reach the climax of this particular chapter, my phone first started vibrating, then an unknown number popped up on my screen before I heard my ringtone. I silently cussed whoever the caller was before I reluctantly picked the call.

 

“Hello,” I said, I was sure the caller could hear the disappointment in my tone.

 

“Hi, please who am I speaking to?” I heard the caller say from the other end of the call.

 

I hung up immediately at this point. I hate when people do this thing. How can you call someone and ask who the person is like you just typed a random number on their keypad and dialed it.

 

Having hung up, I turned my attention back to the story and was going through, trying to find the exact place I had stopped when another call made my phone to start ringing again. It was the same number.

 

“Who is this na?” I asked once I picked the call. I made a mental promise to hang up and block the number if the person did not speak up at once.

 

“It’s Ebuka,” the caller replied.

 

“Ebuka from where?” I asked, the name rang a bell but I was experiencing one of those annoying moments when you know an information is in your head but you just can’t assess it for reasons no one really understand.

 

“Haba! You’ve forgotten me already again?” The caller complained. “The guy you gave your number to last night,” he explained.

 

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” I apologised as vague memories of yesterday’s event flashed through my mind. This was the second time in a roll that I had forgotten who this guy was.

 

“It’s cool,” he replied calmly, “so good morning, I hope I’m not calling too early or disturbing your beauty sleep considering last night et all?

 

“No o, not at all. What’s up with you?” I asked.

 

“I’m great. So I was thinking that maybe we should hook up today, how does that sound?”

 

I couldn’t have had it any other way, I was frankly looking for something to do with my life, “that sounds fine to me,” I replied.

 

“Okay then, I guess you haven’t eaten this morning right?” He asked.

 

That was when it occurred to me that I hadn’t even thought about food, “No I haven’t,” I replied.

 

“Okay then, meet me at Sizzlers in twenty minutes. Come with your appetite.” He said and hung up right away.

 

Before I moved an inch, I made sure I finished the chapter I was reading and as usual I was left in a loop, I understood that Chistar was just doing his job by making sure any reader who had a taste of his story would want more but I still hated the fact that I could not satisfy my curiosity once and for all. Who knows when he will post a new chapter?

 

It was just an eatery we were going to so I figured dressing casual would be appropriate but at the same time I had to look sexy enough for Ebuka to want to have a taste of my not-so-hot body.

 

To this effect, I threw a tight poker dots patterned skirt and a black top that showed just the right amount of cleavages.

 

In my attempt to be fashionably late, I got to the eatery about fifty minutes later.

 

A quick glance round the eatery and I sighted Ebuka sitting all alone at a table close to the northern wing of the counter. Unless you were looking for him, one might not have easily seen him from where I stood. Thankfully, I was looking for him.

 

I smiled, adjusted my top so as to find the balance between under exposure and over exposure before I cat walked towards his table.

 

His lips curved into a wide grin as he raised his head and saw me just as I got to his table.

 

“Oh my goodness!” He exclaimed.

 

I was shocked. “What happened?”

 

“How did you get this beautiful overnight?” He asked grinning sheepishly.

 

I sighed and sat with a frown.

 

“Got ya!” He chuckled.

 

“It’s not funny,” I replied and folded my arms for effect.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re being serious here?” He asked.

 

“I am, in fact I’m leaving,” I replied and stood up to leave and for a few seconds I could feel his eyes on my ass before I felt his palms grab my hand.

 

“Where do you think you are going,” he asked, “I’m sorry, I was only joking,” he pleaded.

 

I turned to face him and it was then he saw my grin, “Got ya too!” I replied and laughed.

 

His lips curved into a smile, “Nice one, the scores is one-one, game on,” he said an ushered me back to the table.

 

The waiter came just about then.

 

“What do you want to eat?” He asked me.

 

“I need something light, you guys have meat pie, right?” I asked the waiter.

 

“Sure,” the rather handsome guy with an apron replied.

 

“Alright, I’ll have that and a bottle of coke,” I ordered.

 

“I’ll have the same thing,” Ebuka said and watched as the waiter left to get the meal.

 

“I like a lady who drinks Coke,” he said to me.

 

I smiled, “I like a guy who likes a lady that drink Coke.”

 

He chuckled. “I have something I want to discuss with you,” he said.

 

“What’s that?” I asked with renewed interest.

 

“Don’t worry, let’s eat first,” he said.

 

I kept quiet in response. But I thought something was off.

 

The meal was devoured in a rush as we both ate in silence, safe from the one time he saw a new video from an underground artiste, Post Malone, show on the TV screen and asked if I knew the artiste. I replied in the affirmative.

 

“So what did you want to talk about?” I asked once the waiter cleared the table.

 

“Are you always this anxious?” He asked with a warm smile.

 

“Yes, I am,” I indifferently replied.

 

“Anyway, my friend is going to help me out here,” he said.

 

“Which friend?” I asked as we clearly had no company.

 

“That would be me,” I heard a voice say behind me, I quickly turned to see who had said it.

 

Behold! It was the same bald guy that had picked up Amaka from the club and I also thought I saw driving the Range Rover Autobiography which Ebuka entered last night.

 

“Ebuka, what’s going on here?” I asked sternly.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

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