HUSNA

Chapter17

"Money and success don't change people they merely amplify what is already there." — Will Smith.
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Firstly, you gave your brother my number without my permission," Husna said sharply, her eyes blazing as she glared at Faiza, who was comfortably munching on a burger like nothing was wrong. "And as if that wasn't enough, you actually invited him to my house?"

Faiza blinked, mouth still full. "Wait, come again, Hussy... you mean Yaya Hameed got your number?" she mumbled between chews. "And he even went to your house?"

"Yes, he came yesterday, lied to my mother that we're friends. Friends! You know I don't keep male friends. Why would you do that?"

Faiza froze mid-bite, then raised her hands in surrender. "Whoa, chill out, Hussy! Wallahi, I didn't give him your number. I swear on my final-year project...if I'm lying, may all my grades crash!"

Husna narrowed her eyes. "You sure you're not lying?"

"I'm sure! I don't even know how he got it."

She  leaned forward, her voice dropping. "He stood there, in my house, pretending like we're close. My mom was smiling, Adda was smiling, and I....I was boiling! If you see the way he was behaving...like some long-lost cousin from London!"

Faiza stifled a laugh, covering her mouth. "Okay, okay, calm down. But honestly, Yaya Hameed is harmless. He's a great guy. Gentleman to the core. What's your problem with him, sef?"

"My problem?" Husna glared. "My problem is that he lied to my mother and showed up uninvited. He crossed every boundary, and you enabled him."

Faiza shook her head vigorously. "Husna, I swear, I didn't! Do you realize how lucky you are that he even wants to be friends with you? There are girls...plenty girls....that would faint if he smiled at them, and you're here complaining."

Husna folded her arms. "Then let them take him. I'm not interested."

"You're just being dramatic," Faiza teased, sipping her drink. "He only wants friendship. And trust me, he's not the type to chase girls. He lives in Lagos, works in Cyprus...he's hardly around! Why not just be civil? You might never even see him again."

Husna muttered under her breath, "Insha Allah, I won't."

Faiza laughed. "You're hopeless. But admit it...he's handsome."

"I suppose," she  said reluctantly, rolling her eyes. "But I don't like him. Your family is cute though. Beauty runs in your blood."

Faiza grinned proudly. "I know, right? It's the Danbatta genes, baby."

They both burst into laughter, the tension melting slightly.

"Anyway," Faiza continued, "we'll be on semester break soon. I'm traveling to Lagos in two weeks before heading to Abuja. Can't wait to breathe real air again."

"Mmm, that sounds nice," Husna said, gathering her bag. "Come on, let's head to the department before we're late."

After lectures ended around 5:00, Faiza offered Husna a ride to the bus stop. The evening sky was streaked with orange and purple, the air filled with chatter and honking horns.

She  waited by the roadside, clutching her tote bag and tapping her foot impatiently. The bus was nowhere in sight.

"Why do I even bother?" she muttered. "Typical kaduna traffic. Even the buses are tired."

A car horn blared behind her. She didn't bother turning around. "Can't they see I'm not even on the road? Stupid people acting like they own the place," she grumbled.