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"My momma always told me that boys and books don't mix. I believed her but I still wanted both. I wanted boys and I wanted to keep my books."
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Find out if she gets both in this thrilling story. Let's follow every step o...
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The phone rang twice. It took him more than a bit to get to it. "Hello?" His groggy voice sounded into the receiver of his mobile phone.
"What?" He shouted way more than he intended to. "I'm on my way." He let out as he threw some clothes on his body.
"Babe!" A girl flung herself at him. "Please stay with me more. Where are you going?"
"Diana! I already helped you like you wanted me to. You wanted me to stay with you because you were heartbroken about your boyfriend leaving you. But that's it. I can't do any more than that."
"But...but I thought you loved me."
This stopped him in his tracks as he buttoned up his shirt. "I do love you Diana, but only as a friend. No more, no less."
"I can't believe this. I really can't believe this at all." She yelled as she threw her pillows at him–both of which he dodged easily. "I came to f*cking Africa for you. I left everything I had in America because you were more important to me. I came to this place that is as hot as –or even hotter than–a freaking oven with different stupid things I've never seen in my whole life. I even tried adjusting to their difficult way of life. Do you think it's easy?" She didn't even stop to catch her breath.
"I get sunburns every freaking day, I sleep with an AC on full blast. All because of you; and now you come tell me you love me as a friend? You asshole!" She spat as she lunged at him, hitting at his chest with all the might she could muster.
"Stop Diana!" He held both her hands. "Are you listening to yourself talk? Are you even paying attention? Every word you say is about yoself. You alone. Did you even think 'bout how I would feel when you drafted out all these plans–when you started executing them?"
"I thought you loved me." She said as tears streaked down her face.
"Make no mistake about this Diana. I didn't ask you to come to Nigeria for me. I didn't ask you to do none of these for me. You did them all for yourself." He deadpanned as he finished up with buckling the belt on his waist.
"And by the way," he held the door open as he was about to go out. "The whole of Africa is a continent and right now you are in a country–Nigeria which though is in Africa ain't the whole of Africa itself." He finished and slammed the door loudly; leaving her alone to bathe in her loneliness and anger. * The phone rang twice. Trying to pick a call with dislocated fingers was the hardest thing ever, he had to admit. It hurt like bloody hell and nothing he did or took came close to numbing the piercing pain.
Apart from dislocating his fingers, there were also bruises on them. He spent more than half an hour contemplating what moment, minute and second he was going to put on his hand his worst enemy—methylated spirit.
