CHOOSING.

18. I choose.

Once home, we were greeted by my very happy mother. I had called ahead to inform her that I got a part. After giving me her fair share of rib crushing hugs, we walked into the house to start preparing a celebratory dinner. We were all going to participate, even my father. We all got designated various duties and we got down to it with enthusiasm. I  started humming a tune and soon we were all singing at the top of our lungs. My brother did a couple of dance moves that I couldn't master in a million years as he stirred the gravy he was making. All I could manage was move my body rhythmically as if I knew what I was doing. When my dad was through making the dough, without adding eggshells into it, he walked to my mother and together they started dancing. He twirled her a couple of times before dipping her and then slowly picking her. They looked so beautiful together and my brother and I applauded them with deliberately slow claps. At this they jumped apart slightly embarrassed at getting carried away.

Kiama and I looked at each other, shrugged and went off to set the table. Soon enough, the food was ready and we sat down to eat. I said the grace and promptly dug into the food. I could almost feel my taste buds do a happy dance at the delicious meal. I became convinced the food had some secret ingredient we did not know of when Kiama spent the whole time stuffing food into his mouth and not once talking. The guy never kept quiet, not even when eating, especially not when eating. Even when we started talking about the possible awards I would be nominated for or win, Kiama never said a word. I was beginning to get worried when he cleared his plate. He leant back in his chair and said, "tell me again, why don't I get special suppers like this in my honour?" I laughed out loud, glad he was still the younger brother I knew. Together we cleared the table before I headed off to bed.

I changed to my pyjamas and was about to get into bed when I remembered I had to do something first. I needed to call Ombachi and clear things out. It was about time I swallowed my pride and became the bigger person. I picked up my cellphone and dialed his number. As I listened to the dial tone, I began to worry that he wouldn't pick or he wouldn't want to talk to me. However, all my worry was unfounded because he picked the call.

"Hey, you called," his deep voice said on the other end.

"I did," I affirmed. "I didn't want to stay fighting. Look, am sorry I did not call back. It was not right for me to ignore you like that simply because I was dealing with stuff," I said softly.

"Its cool. Am glad you realised your mistake," he said. For some reason, it felt more of a reprimand than a forgiveness. Nevertheless, I chose to ignore it.

"Also I wanted to tell you something," I went on.

"Sure, what is it," he replied.

"I tried out acting auditions and I got picked," I said excitedly.

"You act? Since when and how do I not know this?" He demanded. I did not like where this conversation was headed but I had started it so I had to see it to the end.

"Yes, I act. I haven't since my high school days but I thought I would try it again. And the reason you don't know is because I don't talk about it," I explained.

"You wouldn't even tell me? I am supposed to be your friend. Wait, do you even consider me your friend anymore?"

"Of course you're still my friend. Why wouldn't you be?" I questioned.

"Because I am not a certain good looking guy that plays the piano at church," he scoffed.

"So this is what it has been all about? You are angry at me because of Caleb?" I asked bewildered.

"Yes, am angry at you because of him," he said the word him as if it meant 'dirt'. "You like him more than me because he is a perfect guy. You act like am your friend but in the real sense you judge me because I don't believe in your God or religion. I even started going to church for you and still it was not enough. I tried showing you my world but no, you're convinced your little religious life is the best. Am tired of this, if you want to be my friend you should be ready to meet me halfway," he concluded his rant.

"Meet you halfway?" I asked unsure of what he meant.

"Yes, meet me halfway," he insisted. "You have to be able to accept my way of living and not force yours upon me."

"I never forced my way of living on you. And I respect if your life is different from mine. Surely, you know that," I defended.

"The first time you asked me to church, had I said no, would we be friends up to now?"

"Yes!"

"And you expect me to believe that? You only so happy after I agreed to go. And every time I went to church with you is when we became closer," he said.

"Am not like that,"

"You're not? You're so judgemental and you don't even realise..."

"Enough," I cut him off. "I will not take this anymore. I cannot believe you think so lowly of me. And I thought you were my friend. If you felt this way you should have talked to me about it. Instead here you are, lobbying one accusation at me after the other. It is not fair and I won't have any of it. Ombachi, I risked destroying great friendship for you but you just proved unworthy of it all." I said finally unable to act the bigger person.

"Fine, whatever. I still hold my opinion and am not going yo beg for your attention," Ombachi said angrily and hung up.

For some reason I felt tears threatening to fall. I got into bed and curled into a ball fighting back the traitorous tears. As I lay there with my eyes stinging I realised that for some reason I had been so strongly attached to Ombachi. I had defended him against my friends' judgement without a doubt and risked losing my closest friend. And he called me judgemental. It stung so hard and it took all my strength not to break down. With the choking pain in my chest I decided I wouldn't grieve losing him. As I told myself this, I realised I never had him to begin with. He never saw me as a friend, he saw me as someone he wanted to prove himself to.

'I choose not to let unreal friends break my heart.' I whispered to my dark room as I fell into dreamless sleep.