Float

zidaobi learns to swim

Luckily, your swimming instructor wasn't the man with tobacco stained. It was a young darkskinned woman with very short bleach blonde hair.

The swimming lesson itself wasn't too hard, just a little exhausting. The problem was concentrating.

You always had this problem, whilst doing something your mind would run somewhere else. In the small pool, you had thought of your half filled canvas, your red blouse that sat on your bubble chair, you thought of whether you should splurge on a meal in that expensive restaurant on the Island but when the tall slender woman held your waist as you kicked the water gently your mind focused on her.

You stayed silent, watching the woman almost predatorially. Her red swimsuit was a little bit too small, leaving a good amount of ass hanging out. You must have been slapping your feet against the water too hard because she let go of your waist and laughed softly. You turned to see her wiping her face, she offered you a soft smile and said, "Gently now."

Her voice. You've never heard anything so beautiful.

The swimming lesson ended and you got out of the pool, jogging to the changing rooms as cold air hit you. Before you got to the changing room, the woman tapped your shoulder gently. She guided you to two plastic chairs and brought out a small red aerosol can. "I'm Ogoni." You noticed her nipples straining against the swimsuit, her septum ring and her chipped nail polish.

She had said nothing to you except for a greeting and the swimming instructions so you were a bit surprised but smiled and sat on the chair, palms flat on your knees like a schoolgirl waiting to collect her award on Prize Giving Day.

She shook the can and sprayed it on your shoulder blade. It was cool but after a while tingled and warmed up that area. "This would help with any soreness you may feel. We did a lot of work today." She rubbed it in gently, in large circles. Her breath tickled your neck. The slightly suffocating smell of chlorine settled over your head like smog.

"So what's your name?"

"Zidaobi."

"Gorgeous. Is it English?"

"No, Igbo."

"Huh, I never heard anything like it." She said thoughtfully. "So  how old are you Zidaobi?"

"19."

There was a beat of silence before you could hear the smile in her voice when she said, "That's fantastic."

She sounded surprised, a good surprise. Surprise like when you found out you missed your period. Thank God, you weren't pregnant and it meant you could go to that boy's apartment in Syracuse's again.

You liked the sound of her surprise.

"Why do you sound surprised?" You laughed and wiggled your bottom. "You look kinda young."

You thanked her for the heat spray. She handed it to you and said, "Here. I'll buy myself another one later. I can show you where to buy this after our next class." You nodded and went to change, all the while a smile on your face as you thought of Ogoni's pretty round ass.

You frantically tried to put together the pieces of your conversation with Ogoni. It was hard, the picture of her nipples straining against the thin material of the swimsuit made heat flow to your cheeks as you jogged happily out of the estate.

∆

"Is dad home?" You asked your younger sister, Chelsea. "I don't know, I don't care." She shrugged, typing on her phone. She hated your father. You couldn't blame her. While your mother was pregnant with her up until she was 5 he was no where to be seen. He was busy boning young women, making illicit deals and shockingly, taking good care of you. Well, not good care by many standards but amazing care for someone as irresponsible as he is. You were fed homemade food, took baths daily and wore clean clothes. Under his care that's beyond what anyone expected.

You jogged up to your room and set to work on a new piece. Dipping and redipping your paintbrush into the several pots of poster colour gave you the image of a woman against a haphazardly painted blue background. The woman stood tall, willowy arms placed over her head. Dark green vines dotted with baby pink flowers curled around her ankles and crawled up her legs. A crudely drawn sun was suspended in the upper left corner of the small canvas. The sun beamed down on her casting a long shadow that held unto another shadow.

You smiled and hung this piece on your door. Your phone beeped and illuminated with a message. It was from a strange number.

It was Ogoni.

Your heart dropped into your hips, beating against your pubic bone.

She wanted to know if you were free this evening. She'd show you were to get the heat spray and maybe even take you to Suya Spot.

Suya Spot was a popular outdoor styled restaurant. You had seen it on the feed of every Lagos Instagram influencer and every 'How Lagosian are You?' quiz. It was popular not just because of the amazing food but also being one of Lagos' softest location.

You always wanted to go, take a few pictures with a beautiful friend and see how many influencers and celebrities you could spot.

You squealed excitedly and typed in your address and she responded with a smiley emoticon immediately.

You clumsily stood up from the chair, knocking it down and ran to your wardrobe.

What on Earth will I wear?

You let out small grunts, squeals and yelps as you ransacked the wardrobe looking for a suitable outfit.

You held a tube top to your chest in the mirror. Making eye contact with yourself you let out a deep humourless laugh.

"Zidaobi. Zida. Obi. Zidaobi! So you can be this excited about someone?" You grinned at yourself in shock.

Maybe you were putting too much though into it. Of course you were, she's showing you were to buy fucking heat spray and eat carcinogenic grilled meat.

Yes but it's suya at Suya Spot. Not suya from the aboki a few streets away. Look good goddammit.

You decided on a white t-shirt (this one without a palm oil stain), bleached jeans and a tan teddy coat.

You applied light makeup and wore your grey contacts. They were purely for fashion, your eyesight was perfect.

This is your first proper outing in Lagos since you came back, you had to announce you were back with a bang. It took a minute but when it did the dreadful thought slammed into you.

Were you going to see anyone from your secondary school? Most likely. You didn't want to. Was this outfit even good enough. Even if it was, were you wearing it well? Your blue braids had sat on your head for a little over a month now and started to look rough, were they too rough? What were people going to think?

Before you had time to rationalize and burn your thoughts Ogoni sent you a text that she was outside.

You jogged down the stairs, your heart in your mouth.

You were calmed down a little by the cool breeze and a lot by the sight of Ogoni. At 5'8" you were pretty tall and when you were frowning, which was ninety percent of the time, you look intimidating but something about Ogoni made you feel short. She was at least 6'1".

She wore a bright yellow latex dress. The dress clung to every curve of her body, exposing her thunder thighs. She even put on a wig and a full face of makeup, a sharp contrast from how you met her. You won't have recognized her.

"You ready?" her voice sounded like a song.

You giggled and hopped into the Uber.