Gone Bad (Nigerian Novel) -Editing

Chapter 5: Girl Talk

I struggle to squeeze my bottom into my skinny jeans. So much for all my booty workouts, the only thing getting larger was my thigh

I smile at my reflection when I finally do my jeans button in triumph.

I was ready to walk out of the house when my mother's head pops out of the living room door.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" she said to me with disapproval dancing in her eyes.

"To Victoria's house Mum," I respond shifting my weight to my left leg.

"Dressed in those Jeans that resembled leggings. What happened to all the longer tops I bought for you." she hammers essentially saying I was dressed like an ashewo (prostitute) in other words.

"Nothing mum," I say releasing a heavy sigh.

"Then go and find something more presentable before you leave this house, my friend," she says returning her head back into the living room.

"Oh, I don't know why this woman's trouble is too much. Somebody cannot have freedom again in this house." I whine under my breath making sure to leave heavy footsteps on the stairs in my wake.

"Bring the house down o!" she shouts from downstairs.

I mimic her without her knowledge and slam the door in response, I'll blame the wind for that one.

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"Ahan I what's up why did you take so long," Vic says showing up at the door in an oversized teeshirt and pajama shorts.

"Don't ask," I say walking straight past her.

She laughs already knowing all too well. "You and your mummy are at it again o."

"I thought we were going out why are you still in your nightwear?" I say confused.

"Hello, it's Saturday afternoon excuse me for not wanting to get dressed on time. Besides, I don't think I'm up for another party I just want to eat ice cream and relax," she says picking up her abandoned plastic spoon on the couch.

"Is this really you talking?" I ask surprised.

The doorbell rings unexpectedly and Victoria goes to answer the door, spoon in hand. After a few moments in walks with a man who looks to be in his late forties.

Sporting a goatee and oozing alpha-male charm he seems like he would have been a player when he was younger. But now his muscle tee clung too tightly to his bulging stomach and those designer vans looked better substitutes with nice men slippers for his feet.

He removes his flat cap and gives us a little bit too bright a smile, talking about giving some heavy weird uncle feels.

I scooted closer to Victoria went oddly silent.

"Welcome sir let me go and call my mother," she says talking to him but not looking directly in his eyes.

"Alright I'll wait here," he says taking a seat on the adjacent sofa.

I duck my head slightly in greeting the older man. "Good afternoon sir."

He smiles briefly and turns his attention to the various pictures framed on the wall.

Victoria's mother soon comes down in a simple Ankara kaftan. Her weave in styled in effortless waves from no doubt her heat rollers and lips painted bright pink. She was a sight for sore eyes even in her late forties but grief had made her eye bags deep and cheeks hollow. Still, she smiled like she had all she could ever want in life.

"I was wondering why Victoria opened the door after her friend came over but now I know why. Good afternoon brother Tola, how may I help you?" she says with a gracious smile.

Mr. Tola rises from the sofa and extends a flyer invitation. "I just came by to extend this church invitation sister Mary, my wife thought you would like it so I decided to stop by."

Mrs. Nwaike, Victoria's mother, collects the paper and her eyes glaze over its contents.

"It sounds like a wonderful event and it would be nice to hear others singing for a change instead of always performing, I'll be there thank you." she finally says after clearing her throat.

Mr. Tola's face breaks out in a smile and he nods. "Very well sister I look forward to seeing you there. My wife sends her greetings to you as well I shall be on my way now," he says.

"Well tell her I send my love to her and that mischievous little boy of yours. Toria make sure you lock the door after your Uncle I'm going back to my room." Mrs. Nwaike says before she disappears up the stairway.

Mr. Tola heads for the door and Victoria follows after him at a distance not saying much. How odd of Vic, she always had something to say.

.......

After a few minutes, Victoria comes back to the living room and returns to her former position on the couch.

The settee makes a sound that oddly mirrored a groan of protest in response. I laugh and tease her.

"Now I know where all my lunch ticket money goes to. You're getting fat." I say.

Her expression turns sour but her eyes remain playful. "Shut up joor. You're too stingy to give me all your lunch money and there is something called curves you know."

"Yes, something exceeding calorie thresholds won't give some of us. All hail queen thicc thicc." I say hoping she would accept my humble obeisance.

Yet I receive only a pillow on my face in return.

Ungrateful monarch.

..........

It's five when I decide I'm hungry and leftover fried rice won't do today. Normally it'd be disrespectful to voice this complaint but familiarity had blurred the lines of pleasantry between me and Victoria.

"Okay, so what do you now want me to do?" Vic asks looking like she was ready to pounce on me in true African mother style.

"I don't know but I'm hungry-WAIT!"

"Ehn what?" Vic says annoyed I was interrupting her from her beloved Bollywood soap.

I roll my eyes unfazed by the dreamy Shah Rukh Khan onscreen. What good was fantasizing about a character who would only love the protagonist?

"Let's go to that restaurant near your estate gate, I have enough money to buy a Delly Meal," I answer. The Delly Meal came with spicy noodles a fat drumstick and a pet drink all for the sum of a thousand naira.

"So you've already started milking your sugar daddy," Victoria states cocking a sly smile in my direction.

I give her an incredulous expression wondering how she could believe I didn't have 1k of my own but could afford to feed two mouths every week at school during break time with enough to go round.

"Oh wait you have to give him some sugar before you collect that?" she suggests touching her chest then bursting into fits of laughter.

I rise from my seat giving her a lighthearted scowl. "When did you become so dirty. Like I'd even get to do that with the way my mother hounds me. It's waiting till marriage for me." I respond.

Vic only gives me a small smile. "How I thought the same, oh how I thought the same..."

I know I should've taken it for what it first sounded like and assumed she meant I'd change my mind about sex soon enough. But for some reason, I couldn't shake off the weird effect her words had on me.

She quickly gets up and dusts herself up. "Come on let's go get food. I'll slip on a pair of joggers and be right back."

Author's Note
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