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The next evening, the last evening of Dynamis, Hassana acted like last night had never happened. She was as sunny and bright as ever.
She didn't want to talk about last night. I didn't want to talk about last night. We both didn't want to talk about last night...
But for purely different reasons.
She had slipped up and allowed me peek into her soul. Now, she wanted to cover up... Me? I just didn't want to talk about my dad. I couldn't handle his betrayal. His greed. I definitely couldn't go back home either.
We had started a routine. Every night, at seven on the dot, I walked to her hostel where she'd be waiting for me, very eagerly, I might add.
The others were fond of her. They didn't mind hanging out with her, and in a way, she brought us together, every night.
She always listened to Dave rant about very, very, irrelevant things, and even pitched in to contribute. Jordan basically saw her as a new pet. He liked to pick her up and pat her hair or carry her on his back, something that Hassana enjoyed as much as he. She was curious with Osahon and because he was the quiet, nice one, he was a walking target for her barrage of questions. To Lola and Haliya, she could talk and talk about hair and make-up and the latest designers. With Kam, they were just two little kids that could talk about any and everything and make, even the stupidest things, a competition.
The funny thing? She respected Asa's quietness. She could be loud and talkative with the others, but with Asa, she was attentive... Almost observant. Almost like she related with her on a different plane. Like she knew something about Asa that we didn't... And the way she looked at her ... The look in her eyes. It was the same look she had in her eyes when she talked about Giwa. Respect. Adoration...
But why?
It was something that could have easily been overlooked, seeing as we always hung out as a group. I'm not sure Asa even noticed. But I noticed. And she knew I noticed.
We were just playing charades and she was playing her part well. Very well.
She suddenly stopped in her tracks. I bumped into her and looked at her, panicking that something was wrong.
She was staring at something... No... Someone.
Ivandor... The guy from the seminar day.
He was walking, intent on getting somewhere, icepack in his hands, but he got distracted by a Fulani peddlar, selling pendants and feminine bracelets.
He was innocently asking for the price of something.
"I don't want you to hate him." Her voice came suddenly, so gentle and still, it tickled my spine and cracked me in half. She wasn't even looking at me anymore. She was still staring at Ivandor, looking like she was lost in thoughts. "Giwa used to hate him, you know?"
