P for Perfect

Chapter 24- Yamíl

Family and friends are all that matter- Diane

"That's a minus not a plus," I correct Mercy, pointing at the mistake. She makes an 'o' with her mouth and continues calculating. We're standing outside the shawarma kiosk at the junction of our street, waiting in line for our turn. Of course, this isn't a place we frequent often, but Aunt Diane loves the shawarma here. And whenever she comes to visit unannounced, which is almost always daddy sends us here to get shawarma for her.

"Yamíl, why won't you stay in the line? This fat woman will just chance you," Mercy hisses next to me. I have to lower my neck to look at her, she's giving me her ITK look now.

"Why don't you just leave that assignment and stay on the line. It's not like you're not going back home," I hiss back at her. Mercy stubbornly sticks her tongue out and stays put, focusing once again on her assignment.

Soon enough it's our turn and I order Aunt Diane's usual, extra large with chicken, ketchup and mayonnaise dipped salad. The order makes Mercy gag in irritation but I'm pretty cool with the mixture, nothing our good ol' Chicken can't fix.

"Oya let's be going ah, they must have started Henry Danger by now," Mercy pleads, grabbing my arm.

"So you solve maths outside and watch Henry Danger inside, such misplaced priorities," I shake my head in mock disappointment that she dutifully ignores. We start down the road to our house, Mercy merrily jumping ahead of me. She keeps hopping around like the bunny she is until suddenly she stops, and stays still. Immediately the hairs on my neck stand.

"What happened?" I ask, coming to stand next to her.

"Isn't that Osas?" She frowns as she asks the question, staring ahead. True enough, I look up to find Osas walking right towards us. Her braids have been cut, why would she do that? It's only been like two weeks since we resumed. Her entire body is cloaked in black, from her oversized hoodie to her black joggers, and her black Crocs. Even from here I can tell that there's something off about her.

"Mercy, you can go home from here right?" I lean over to ask her.

"What do you take me for? What are you gonna do? Talk to her?"

"No o, I'm just going to like stare and watch her pass," I roll my eyes.

"I thought you didn't like her."

"That was a long time ago, now go." I softly push her forward to jump start her journey. I see when Osas stretches out her hand to shake her when they pass each other. Her eyes zero on me, and it's only now that I realize that she's wearing my hoodie. The one that has my initials on it.

"I see you got comfortable," I joke as a greeting, looking pointedly at my hoodie. Osas gives me a once over and forces a chuckle. Ouch. I've never met anyone who wears someone else's hoodie and makes it look like they're doing them a favor.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, choosing to ignore it.

"My house is just on the next street...I came out for a jog," she reveals.

"A jog by 3 in the afternoon? Are you sure that's why you came out?"

"Yes, I'm still jogging," she starts to walk past me but I use my hand to drag her back softly. I don't miss her baggy eyes and the dark shade growing under her eyelids.

"Osas, are you okay?" I ask, holding her gaze. She stares back, her eyes roving over my eyes. I know when her resolve weakens because I feel her hands go lighter, like she could faint if I let her go. So I don't, because I think we're both too scared to see what happens if I do.

••••

"I'm tired," Osas drawls out for the millionth time. It's like she can't form the right words to describe how she's feeling, or why she's feeling the way she is.

"Did something specific happen?" I try to prod.

"I'm sick of my mum, and my stepdad. Do I need something specific to happen to feel that?"

"Well...technically yes-"

"Well I don't have one," she retorts. I nod slowly determined not to get offended.

"And that's fine, I get sick of my mum a lot as well."

Osas snorts loudly. "Trust me it's not the same at all."

"How so?" I prod. For a moment she seems to be considering telling me but she quickly decides against it and switches the topic.

"You know how I said I was writing TD in WAEC? It's because my parents want me to study architecture. And I don't want to, I literally have no care for it but they, especially my mum won't stop forcing it on me."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know, but I know I'm not doing architecture. Anything but that."

"So what do you want to study?"

"Honestly I wanna be a fashion designer, my mom would know this because it's so obvious in everything I do but she's just..." She trails off and buries her face in her Hollandia. I can't relate, my mum knows everything about me. So I stick to something I do know.

"Is that why you cut your hair?"

"Ehn? Oh, no. That was just totally out of impulse."

"Impulse or anger?"

"Both maybe," she pauses. "I'm not friends with Aramide anymore."

"What? Why?"

"Partly because she said so and partly because I'm tired. I'm too tired to carry both of our burdens, because God knows she isn't carrying mine," she huffs. If Osas is talking like this then the fight must have been major.

"Why did you fight?" I implore. Osas raises her head and her eyes immediately fall on my lips. They flash for a moment and she looks back at my eyes. What is wrong with this girl today?

"Aramide kissed Alex, and I just got worried for her. Because he's kissing you today but how can you be sure he won't kiss someone else tomorrow? I was genuinely worried for her but she took it the wrong way and accused me of not wanting good things for her and abandoning her."

"It was a misunderstanding, you guys are good for each other. I know you know it was a misunderstanding that can easily be cleared up-"

"I'm tired. I'm tired of being mature, and helping my friends find stability. I don't want to clear up any misunderstanding. My life is a mess and she's done nothing but tangle it up some more," her voice cracks a bit and she shuts up. I feel even more confused, sitting here and watching her break down. Osas is only telling me bits and pieces of what's bothering her, she can't be like this because she fought with Ara and because her mum's pressuring her. There's something missing, but I won't force her to tell me. I'll just wait and see. Until then, I risk my ego by moving to sit next to her in the booth and pulling her into one big tight hug.