Chapter Sixty-Eight – Saul to Paul

I couldn’t believe I was standing at Kwame’s door. I was still in denial when he opened the door and I walked in. What was I even doing?

“I literally cannot believe I am here right now” I quipped, sitting on the edge of Kwame’s bed like it was infected.

He smiled. “Me neither.”

“Amongst all of us you’re the one with your life most together. If I go to Carl, he’ll just listen with itchy ears and probably tell Boateng.  I can’t go to Boateng because he’s too closely connected and I think Mara is too dumb to offer me any good advice. So here I am.”

“You seem to have thought this through” Kwame said, lightheartedly. I didn’t laugh even though he’d intended me to. I could clearly tell that he was as uncomfortable as I was.

I poured my heart out to Kwame. My heart out. To. Kwame. This season is just so weird.

He listened keenly, nodding.

“I get what it feels like to be confused. I’ve been there before but Araba, I can’t help but think maybe you aren’t confused. Maybe you know who exactly you want but you’re too scared to go for it. You’re beating about the bush so that if it never works then you’ll just say it’s because you never tried.”

Is this Kwame, giving me sage advice? Is the sky pink or blue?

“Although, maybe waiting would be a good idea but not the kind of waiting you’re doing right now. If you really want to think clearly, then maybe actually clear your roster. Figure out who you want to be. If the relationship with either one of these guys will work out. It will work out when you’ve had time to sit with yourself. I was reading the Bible recently, and I saw that Jesus prayed before choosing his disciples. Sure, Judas did betray him but that’s the more reason he was a good choice. I’m saying, sit with yourself. Pray about it. You’ll have the clarity you need.”

I was looking at Kwame like he was an alien. He laughed.

“You really have changed. I am happy for you” I said, seriously.

“You always did say I needed Jesus.”

To make things even stranger, we hugged before I left.

When I returned to the room, I saw that Lara had packed a small bag. “I am going to stay with my friend Betty for the exam season. Mara asked if she could take my bed and I said yes.”

I offered no response. Lara slinged the bag over her shoulder and left.

Reader, I sat on the floor and cried.

***

I decided to take Kwame’s advice and so I respectfully told Alex that we couldn’t be anything more than friends. He wasn’t too happy with the news and said he had enough friends. I decided to reduce my conversation with Sly, and Boateng and I were just as we were – waiting for each other. Or better still, he was waiting for me.

I had joined a few sessions of Kwame’s Bible Study which was now ten members strong. I did see Lara there but we barely spoke. My heart ached. All the boy drama was awful but I could live with it – not having Lara – I’d rather have been shot in the head. Wait, no. I mean the foot. In a place that doesn’t damage my feet too much but maybe twice to show just how much I love Lara.

Nevertheless, her behavior had honestly shocked me and I was very hurt. Why did she have a right to be angry? Everything I said was true. Mara was caught in the middle like a lost puppy. On the one hand, she and Lara were business partners. On the other, she was my interim roommate. Mara tried very poorly to play both sides.

The breakup was a good booster for me to focus on my studies however, and with a week to exams, I was mostly ready for the papers.

I was laying on my bed studying when Boateng knocked on the door. He walked in looking very hurt.

“Boateng, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I asked, very concerned.

“Is it true?” he asked. His eyes were red which was how they usually got when he was too hurt about something to cry.

“Is what true?” I asked.

“That you’ve been talking to Sly. The two of you have been talking long hours in the night, texting and everything.”

“Is that what Lara told…”

“Please just answer me.”

“Yes. But it’s not like there’s anything…”

“Araba” Boateng cried, throwing his head back in frustration, “how am I supposed to compete with that? How do I compete with the guy you cried over for months? You came to me, told me you wanted something and asked me to wait for you. The whole time you were talking to one guy, then kikiing with your ex. Then there’s me waiting for you like a fool.”

“Boateng….”

“It’s all like some sick joke. I can’t tell if it’s revenge for you or something. I’m sitting there thinking, she’s just talking to this Alex guy but then the ex is also in the picture.”

“Alex and I don’t talk anymore. I promise.”

“And Sly? What’s happening there?”

“We are just friends, Boateng. Truly.”

“Do you even want me. Like, tell me honestly.”

“I do. I do. Seriously, Boateng I do. I just need more time to sit with myself. For real this time. No dates. No gimmicks. I am really working on figuring myself out.”

“And when do you think that’s going to end?”

I hated the resignation in his voice.

“Please don’t give up on me. I know I messed up but please. Give me a chance. I promise, I’m not playing with you.”

Boateng nodded in silent resignation.

“I like you Araba. It’s like some sort of curse at this point but I do. I don’t think I can ever like any girl like I like you. I like you to the point it literally hurts. Every second I spend waiting, is killing me inside. I’m dying and I’ve never felt that before. I don’t know for how much longer I can keep dying.”

Before I could respond, Boateng walked out.

Mara emerged from the washroom where I’d forgotten she’d gone into. “Wow, Araba. That was intense” she said with her trousers still bunched up at her ankles and the toilet paper in hand.

***

Boateng knocked on the door. Aseda shuffled her feet lazily to open it. She was surprised to see Boateng standing there. “Hey, stranger” she said, opening the door wider to let him in.