I don’t tell her that as soon as I got home after Alex followed me I did a thorough audit of his account. I was pleased to see that it was nothing like his Facebook profile. No pictures of him on holiday or at nightclubs surrounded by tons of women, or any photos that would suggest that he is a low-key ladies’ man. Instead, what I got were several photos of Nigerian dishes, a couple of chilled selfies, a photo of him looking ridiculously toned at the gym—my favorite—and a couple of him with his brother and late twin sister. It was only when I looked more closely that I realized his sister was the same dark-skinned girl that I saw when I was trawling through his Facebook photos at Nando’s. I don’t know how I didn’t see it. They both have the same nose and eyes. It reminds me of that moment we shared when he first told me, and I get chills all over again.
“I think he likes me,” I say when Aunty Blessing has finished, running my fingers through my new tresses. Ahh, so soft. “I just want him to come out and tell me already. What do you think I should do, Aunty? Do you think I should invite him out? After all, he is new to London.”
“Sorry, you’ve known him for how long?” Aunty Blessings says, and I feel so sheepish when I say, “About two weeks. You’re right, maybe I should just wait it out—”
“Wait it out?” Aunty Blessing kisses her teeth. “Yinka, let me tell you something. Men these days are slow. Send them a simple text message, you won’t hear back in a week. Agree to a time to speak, they cancel or postpone. Pfft. I say go for it. Of course, if I were you. So what if the woman makes the first move.”
I open my mouth then close it again. A smirk rolls across my lips. Well. I won’t ask Aunty Blessing how she’s finding online dating then.
Now you are beautiful again
SUNDAY
Samsung Memo cancel
50 squats! Boom!
Breakfast: peanut butter sandwich. High in protein apparently
Running my fingers through my silky hair, I peer anxiously at the stream of people pouring out of the auditorium’s twin doors. I’m waiting in the church lobby by the bulletin boards as Alex suggested.
I try hard to balance in my court heels, which I have not worn since graduation, and pinch the sides of my African print wraparound dress to tug it down. With Nana growing increasingly suspicious of my plan to win over Alex, I wasn’t quite brave enough to ask her whether I could borrow her clothes. So I had to resort to wearing a dress that she made for my birthday. My twenty-fifth birthday. It still fits, but it is a bit tight around my hips and bum. Ooh, maybe this means my bum regime is working.
“Fine girl, Yinka!”
I immediately recognize the voice. It’s Kemi, and she’s walking toward me with Uche. Well, waddling. I hug them and pat her stomach.
“Check you, looking all fancy.” She’s eyeing me up and down. “And you’ve got a weave!” She touches my hair. “What’s the occasion?”
I shrug. “Just fancied a change. New year, new me.” I laugh.
After Aunty Blessing had finished doing my hair, I looked in her bathroom mirror and, praise be to God, I didn’t get the shock of my life. Granted the weave was a little shiny, but I’m not unfamiliar with having long hair attached to my scalp; only long hair that isn’t mine. I’m not going to lie, it did take some time getting used to, especially not being able to wag my eyebrows—Aunty Blessing had braided the hair underneath too tight. Thankfully, the Botox look has subsided now. Rocking a side fringe like the RnB singer, Aaliyah, I’m loving my new hairstyle. And I’m praying that Alex does too. He’d better, given how much I spent on it.
“So, how’re things?” I ask, but honestly, I’m desperate for Kemi to be on her way. I don’t want her around when Alex comes over. She would definitely suss out why I got my hair done.
“Urgh. Teaching this week was stressful.” She pulls her face. “Seriously. I can’t wait to go on mat leave. I feel like such an elephant when I stand in front of my class.”
“Baby, don’t say that about yourself.” Uche drapes an arm over Kemi’s shoulder. “You’re doing great. I told you. You’re beautiful.” He pulls her into him and kisses the top of her head. My heart tugs a little. It’s been a long time since a man called me beautiful.
Suddenly, my eye catches a glimpse of a bright blonde weave in the moving crowd.
Crap. It’s Vanessa, and she’s with Derek. I want to duck down, but my body seems to have seized up. No, no. Please don’t see me. Not now.
“Yinka!” I hear Kemi yell. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Sorry, I’m desperate for the toilet.”
“Oh. You should have said so. Well, let me not hold you up.” She leans forward and we hug.
“But let’s catch up soon, yeah,” she says. “You hardly come round any more.”
“What are you doing Wednesday evening?” I ask, remembering I need to ask her for a few Nollywood recommendations. “Mind if I come over?”
“Sure.” Kemi gives me a wide smile. “I should be home by six, so any time after is fine.”
“And we can show you the nursery,” says Uche, giving me a hug.
“Oh, yes, the nursery,” Kemi says. “We’ve painted it yellow.”
I have a vague memory of her telling me that they were buying paint.
“Mum chose the color,” she gushes. “Didn’t she, Uche?” He nods.
Mum. Now I remember why I didn’t tag along.
“Well, I can’t wait to see it,” I say, hopping from one foot to the other.
“Oh, sorry. You need to go.” Kemi shoos me away with her hands.
I bustle my way toward the toilets—the opposite direction to where I’m supposed to meet Alex.
And that’s when I see him.
I look quickly over my shoulder. Thankfully, Kemi is nearing the exit. Alex and I wade through the crowd and stand by the wall together.
“Someone looks nice,” he says, his lips lifting a little.
A cage of butterflies opens in my stomach. Did he—did he just compliment me? Yes, yes, yes! I knew my plan was going to work. God, I’m a genius.
“Thanks.” I shrug. “You look nice too.” I reach out and actually touch his arm.
Alex looks down at himself as though he needs a reminder of what he’s wearing today: a denim shirt, skinny jeans and sandy boots.
“I try.” He gives a tiny shrug.
No, trust me, you deliver, I think to myself.
“Oh, and here you go.” He proffers a large Selfridges bag at me with my jacket bundled neatly inside.
“Aww, thanks,” I say.
“Apologies again,” he says sheepishly.
“No, don’t worry.” I flap a hand. “The tenner is still in my pocket, right?”
Alex looks confused. I burst out laughing.
“Never mind. Bad joke. Soo, um, want to grab lunch? I promise not to ghost you this time, lol.”
“Actually, I can’t do lunch today.”
The smile on my face falters.
“How come?” I ask.
“Got plans,” he replies unhelpfully. “Actually . . . If you’re not in a rush, I want to introduce you to someone.”