The Single Girl Diary (Part 4)

When I got back home that day, I was feverish with a mixture of excitement and dread. I couldn’t wait to tell my flatmate what had transpired.

Ronke doubled as my flatmate and confidante. She was the only friend of mine who lived in the same building as me. Ronke and I go way back to when we did our teaching practice in the same school, almost five years ago. We’d been inseparable since then.

She was in her kitchen when I arrived. We lived in one of those houses that had three rooms, one kitchen and one toilet except for the Master bedroom that had its own toilet. I had rented the master bedroom luckily while Ronke had rented the biggest room from which she made her own kitchen.

She loved cooking and was touchy about her space, which was the main reason we didn’t rent a room together.

‘Babe, you won’t believe who I ran into today,’ I began the moment I entered her room.

‘Who?’ she rinsed her hand and wiped it on her apron, then began going through my shopping bags. ‘Wait first, na guy or lady?’ she asked.

‘Guy.’

‘Oya spill.’

‘My childhood friend o. We used to play together when we were younger,’ I said. ‘We even got married when we were small.’

Ronke burst into laughter, her hand on her chest as it always was when she laughed.

‘Married kwa?’ she asked when she recovered. ‘E don tey since you spoil o. Chai, no be today.’

‘Shut up jor. It was play-play na. Anyway, that’s by the way. Thing is, I ran into him at Shoprite and he looks damn good, so…hot I invited him to my party on Saturday so you have to make me look extra good.’

Ronke was a professional make-up artist and fashion designer. Her hands could work magic on faces and fabric and because of that, she was never lacking in jobs.

‘Wait. You want to play a Delilah on him?’

‘Don’t you mean Bathsheba…only, with my clothes on?’ I winked at her.

‘Omo to shan. Oya gimme hi-five. That’s what I like to hear! My babe is back in the game.’

I smiled. Was I really back in the game?

‘So make sure you tell Nnenna and Clara that he is your guest when he comes that day o, before any of them start to eye him.’ She warned.

‘Sure thing.’

‘By the way, na im pay your shopping bill?’

‘Erm…he offered. But I said no.’

I refused to let him pay because I felt I owed Biyi that. I didn’t want him to look at me like some cheap girl or something. I wanted him to see me as I used to be, whatever that means. I know it sounded stupid to think that the man Biyi is, would still expect me to remain the idealistic child I used to be. But somehow I wanted to preserve that image for him.

Maybe because he reminded me of when love was pure and real and not the adulterated version I had been stung with.

Written By MIMI ADEBAYO

To be continued tomorrow