Pebbles from Mount Carmel

MR STRANGER

Take your clothes and rip em rip em off
Call these hoes and tip em tip em off
You can tell them you are mine I'm sick of sick of games...
Jon Bellion's Woke the fuck up played loudly while his lips devoured mine. Usually I expected in this moment to undress to The Weeknd’s drunk in love or Zayn Malik's Pillow Talk, but things never really happen the way you plan, do they?
The room was cold, freezing but the space between our bodies could cook a female cow seeing how hot it was between us.
Almost 10 minutes later with his Grinch costume and my Buttercup dress lying around, we fell back and closed our eyes to savor what just happened.
I'm not sure but I think I just had a one night stand.
   “Try partying” my friends said
“It would be fun” they said, and now look at me, in bed with a complete stranger.
   I turn to the side of the bed to search for my phone and I realize it might be around, somewhere with the rest of my things. I want to wake him but I don't want to have the strange conversations intimate aftermath’s begat so I'd rather not.
   I creep out silently and put on the grayish kind of shirt I see on the floor. It smells like him so I'm guessing he just took it off or left it lying around.
   His house is small but so cute; he seems to love purple which is uncommon for the male gender and he could get arrested for his extreme orderliness - I mean who arranges the plates in their kitchen according to color? I felt a bit hungry so after searching his kitchen in silence, I found cornflakes and this milk brand I have not seen in Nigeria before.
   The universal iPhone ringtone emanates from a phone and I rush to check, hoping it's mine. I am grossly disappointed it's he's and its Personal bitch calling. Again, who saves the number of their significant other as Personal bitch?
   My curiosity gets the best of me over a guy I barely know and I take the call
   "Bestie!!! What's up na? You carry babe go house and you aren't busy?" A voice sounding so similar to Asa’s says calmly.
   She sounds high, somewhat slow yet excited for her "bestie". No response and she goes on to say
   "There's a meeting by 7 at International Conference Center so be there on time. I'd still text you. Better babe that bitchhhhhhhhh yo, bye" and she hangs up.
   I drop the phone and turn around to see Mr. Stranger standing behind me with one hand in his full hair and another on his lean waist.
   "Why exactly are you with my phone????" His eyes narrow.
   "Who gave you the right to touch my stuff?"
My lips parted to give a reply, but not before he lashed out again.
   "And you couldn't arrange my plates the way you met them?" It was a full glare now.
   "Jeez what is wrong with you!!?" He shouts and walks out of the living room.
   I just took his Kellogg’s cornflakes and his Yankee looking milk in a cute red bowl that's all. I even washed it and put it with the green ones.
   Ohhhh that must be the problem! I put it wrongly.
   I get back to the room to apologize and the lights are on. He is folding clothes and arranging stuff by 2am on a Saturday.
  "Here's your stuff." His voice flat as he hands me a small bag with Nyce boutique written on it.
  I take a sneak peak and my shoes, clothes, purse and phones are inside. See me looking for my main phone when the smaller one with everyone's number was temporarily missing.
  "By 5am, my driver would drop you at your destination. My sincere apologies if I caused you any inconvenience" and he turns back to continue arranging things.
  For starters, this is not how I hoped a costume party in Abuja would end up, and I have no explanation for my sister when I show up at 5 in the morning looking like a homeless person.
  "Keep the shirt or for your comfort, search the second drawer to the left for a new one. The first drawer to the right for a pair of shorts" he blurts as he takes the folded pair of clothes to the drawers to place them where they rightly belong.
  I have never seen a guy this neat. Forget all those secondary school boys that thought they were the shit with keeping lux shirts clean, this dude is spotless. In this moment I feel like this guy’s orderliness can suffocate me.
  "Please can I go back to bed? Maybe on your couch or something then leave much later?" I ask with one hand adjusting my messed up hair and the other holding the bag containing my stuff.
  "Yeah, you can sleep just here" he motions to the bed, shifting the clothes neatly folded, to one side.
  He is almost done arranging and although I lie down, I can't help the different thoughts that run through my head.
  "Tomorrow is Saturday so tell the office I can't make it till Sunday. I won't lose my life savings over one meeting so they should take a chill pill" he says calmly to someone at the other end of the line.
  He drops the phone and turns to look at me; those eyes were probably part of the reason I followed him down here and in no time, we're breathing like people who just beat Usain Bolts record.
  "That was amazing" I blurt out, not knowing what his reaction would be, but he just turns to the side and starts snoring.
This is the part where the lump of regret can no longer pass my throat.
    Its morning, and certainly past 6am. I wear the leggings of my costume and tip toe out.
“Madam!”
“Shhhhhhhhhh” I place my hands on my lips obviously telling the noisy gatekeeper to keep shut. He takes a cue but still steps forward to say something. I don’t let him though.
"Don't tell your Oga anything abeg. Have a nice day" I say slowly as I close the gate behind me.
Something in my head tells me that in this small Abuja, this little story will never die.
My name is Ufuoma Eze and my Mr. Stranger story just started.