Piping Hot

The Turbulent

"Tomi, you sly rat!" is the greeting I receive when I answer my best friend's video call at midnight. There's so much light where she is that it hurts my eyes, and I almost let out a hiss.

"Hello to you too," I reply dryly, instead, attempting to rub the sleep from my eyes.

"How dare you not tell me David Jelani's a judge on your show?" Zahra whines.

"It's airing already?" I ask, astounded.

"No, dummy, they have a YouTube channel," she answers flatly. "Now, back to the matter at hand!"

"Listen, can we have this fight in the morning?" I want to smirk, but I'm too sleepy. If only she knew who took me out yesterday. "I'm bloody tired."

"No, we're doing this right -" she doesn't get to finish before I end the call. Cackling to myself, I put my phone back on the bedside table. I know what I did will make her mad, and I enjoy pushing her buttons. Besides, I can always apologise to her in the morning.

I am about to continue my beauty rest when my phone rings again, Junna's Konoyubitomare blasting through my room - the ringtone I assigned to Zahra's number.

I've got a good mind to ignore her, but I decide to use my church mind and pick up my phone again.

"Zahra, now," I groan when her face shows up, lips pursed.

"Tomi, you know how much I love him -"

"Just let your mum catch you," I chuckle, remembering Mrs. Usman's prideful expression as she said, "not one of them is worthy of my daughters".

"Don't change the subject," my friend scolds.

"Fine," I concede. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Zahra raises an eyebrow, dissatisfied with my answer. Truthfully, there isn't an answer that I could give her that she'd be satisfied with. But I remember something that can give me the upper hand.

"But I did call you the day I found out," I continue, giving her a look. I'm talking about the opening gala, the night my "I'm okay" facade crumbled.

"Eh?" Her irritation seems to fade as her eyebrows furrow in confusion. "No, you didn't."

"Yeah, I did. But your mum called you just as soon as you answered the phone." I know that it was just bad timing, but maybe I can use this as ammunition.

"Nope, I don't remember that." Failed.

I shrug, "Okay, then." I'm partially grateful that she's forgotten, and I'm not keen on opening up old wounds. "Never mind, but I can tell you about him now, if you want."

"Really?" My friend's eyes expand, star-struck.

"No, I'll talk to you in the morning," I want to smirk, but a yawn escapes my lips.

"You're the worst," she pouts. "The absolute worst."

I chuckle, "I love you too, boo."

"Love you, you rat," she smiles.

⚜

Nine hours later, the morning's sunrays wake me up, though they're mostly blocked by the curtains. I close my eyes again, snuggling further under my duvet in an attempt to return to my slumber. It's to no avail, though. Reluctantly, I slide out of the covers and do a few stretches to relieve my stiff joints. At first, the cold air stings the skin left exposed by my camisole and shorts, but I quickly get used to it.

After a quick prayer, I step out into the living area. I assume the others are still asleep, because they usually come out once they wake. I plop down on the couch, stretching my legs, and stare at my rainbow striped socks. What should I do today, I wonder. The sudden rumble of my stomach crosses out all ideas of lazing in bed. Might as well make myself something to eat.