Damilola

PART 1

It’s a dark library, I walk in with Raliat. We are looking for a book. I have no idea what we are supposed to find. I walk around until Raliat suggests that we leave. I walk ahead of Raliat. At the exit, we see Damilola, or what appears to be him. I first think it’s Williams. He smiles at me. I’ve missed his beautiful smile. He leans in and I kiss him. Feels awfully familiar. Like we’ve done this before. We let go. There’s a woman –a teacher– at the other end of the library.

I wake up. I’ll see him again.

PART 2

We’re in an uncompleted building, brown walls and all. There’s a lot of stairs here. So much climbing. I’m exhausted. Suddenly, we are in what appears to look like a bathroom at home. I take off my clothes. Daddy knocks — says I’m supposed to deliver something to my brother — “it’s urgent, hurry please", he says. I leave, but not before changing into a white sweater and black trousers. I wear white sneakers. I have no idea why, but I’ve become fond of these sneakers. Maybe they remind me of something, or someone I used to want to be. And it’s funny because I hated them, or I used to think that I did.

I arrive at his school. Suddenly, a strong feeling — I don’t know what it is—it envelops me. Feels like a high from weed. I think I like the feeling. I walk into the huge building. Four floors. I hated this place. But I’m back. And it feels like I’m here for something else, something different from what Daddy sent me here for. The walls, the cream paint, the darn library, and again, so many stairs.

“Omg?”, Temi screams. I forgot she’d be here. After all, her father’s the principal, and she, or maybe even all of us could never stand up to the man. Pure evil, but also a gentle spirit, one of those confusing types of people. I walk up to her and we hug. She’s so excited to see me. I’m blank, but she’s used to it. She likes my shoes. I compliment her hair. Thick, dark waves that she’s been keeping in big twists. We talk before she delivers me to my brother. I stumble around. I’m still high. I remember. I chewed on a weed edible before coming here — that’s why I took an Uber instead of driving. I run into a few old faces, I avoid a few too.

I’m about to leave before I run into Mr Okomi. “Adewoyin, báwo ni” , he greets me enthusiastically as I bow lightly. He walks me to his office, talks about his daughter and the school for a bit and asks about my life. I’m still high. He tells me about this book he’s completed and gives me a copy. I’m not going to read it. I hate reading things. I finally leave. Damilola is standing at the doorway. He’s smiling again.

PART 3

The day is Monday. I love Mondays. Maybe because we have English Literature for our first period. “Tayo, ṣé o mọ pé o láti didé? Ma jẹ́ ki’n bá ẹ́ níbẹ”, my mother shouted from my room door. I get up in a haste, unprepared for her wahala. It is going to be a good day and Mrs Oladosu isn’t going to ruin it. In my usual 30 minutes I am ready to leave for school. To sit in my English Literature class. And to see Damilola. And Raliat. And maybe the others.

The first four periods go by too quickly. I have Math now. I hate Math. I will probably get an F in SSCE, but with most things in my life, I’m unbothered. Damilola tells me that he’d like for us to talk. “Nothing extremely serious", he says. But I know he’s lying. He doesn’t usually want to “talk".

For some reason, Damilola avoids me for the rest of the day. I am hurt but I’m not going to act like it. I’m going to the library to distract myself. He’s at the door. Again. This should annoy me — this habit—but I’m in love, and he has no idea. “Can we talk now?”, he asks. I walk ahead and signal him to follow me.

“You know why I called you yeah, it’s pretty serious stuff”. I’m unimpressed. “Are you going to apologise for ignoring me first?”. Now I feel like I’ve regained power. “And don’t even try that stupid smile thing that you do", I say before he overpowers me again. Dami apologises. “So what were you going to say?”, I ask. “It’s about my parents. Things have been difficult. I’m probably leaving soon. For good". My deadpan expression cracks slightly, gradually turning into a tiny frown. “It’s going to be okay, Darkholme (he calls me Darkholme because I love Raven Darkholme from X-Men), I promise”, he says after noticing my face. I choke on a tear. “You didn’t say you are going to be okay. You said it’s going to be okay, I’m worried. Sorry, you’re my best friend, and I can’t help it. I’ll miss you.” He grabs my shoulder. “I’ll try to be fine, okay?”. I nod. I kiss him. He doesn’t pull back. “That should never happen again”. His voice has never sounded like this before. It’s angry, spiteful, and you can almost feel it; like hot water that scalds you. I freeze before he walks away.

PART 4

My phone rings for the fourth time. I’m not going to answer this call. You don’t have the right to judge me though. I’m in pain, and me ignoring Lara is excusable. She’s probably going to text me tomorrow , or show up at my apartment, with some Warsan Shire poetry about how I’m truly capable of love or whatever.

I’m not an asshole, I promise. Even though all my exes disagree. It’s the men and women here. They’re all needy, and their mothers didn’t love them, so they expect me to do all the work. And I swear I try. Flowers and shit. But they say this love thing is more than gifts. It’s being present—what does that even mean? I am present, you know. I pay attention. Sometimes too much of it. That’s why I do not do this life thing sober. There’s a constant need to drown out the noise, and the pain that comes with it.

She’s texted me now. It’s something about my mum’s death not being an excuse for my attitude. And something about booking an appointment with a relationship counselor. A relationship counselor. I hate my life. We’re supposed to meet this person at 3pm. I’ll do it because I like her.

I get to their office at 2:45. I hate being late to things. A car reverses into the parking lot. “That is pretty good driving”, I mutter under my breath. A man in his early thirties walks out of the car. This must be the therapist. I spot Lara while waiting in my car. She barely looks at me before we walk into the office building. The man looks familiar. It’s Damilola.