Chapter Sixteen
Clarisse
The Past

"What do you do when you're bored at home?" Kainye asked me once. It was after his sister's burial and he had come to my house. Silence had prevailed as we had ended our previous conversation on an argument Tiara had with Adesuwa the day before.

My aunt had come into my room to check on us, making sure the door stayed more open than I'd left it. Constantly, she passed by the door— peeking in to see what we were up to. I always saw a satisfied smile on her face when she saw we didn't sit next to each other at all.

"Read a book or take Luna for a walk," I shrugged, lightly drumming my fingers on the table. Dele walked in just then, giving Kainye a look of disdain. "What do you want?" I asked him, my voice tight.

"Shouldn't you be mourning?" He ignored me completely and faced Kainye. "Or are you trying to use her to distract your mind?"

"What the fu—" I began. Kainye was tensed— angry even but he chose to smile.

"Shut up," Dele told me, placing a finger on my lips. "I'm trying to protect you here. Why's he in your room?"

I scoffed, looking at him with raised eyebrows. "Protect?"

"There's only one thing guys want from girls and that's—"

"You know that because?" I asked him, my eyes were red and brimming with tears.

"The door's open," Kainye said pointedly. "I'll leave if you want me to," he sighed, standing up and walking towards the door.

"No." Delẹ blocked the entryway into my room. "You and I will have a man-to-man talk."

"Bye," Kainye smiled at me, giving me a small hug. I allowed myself to melt into his embrace even though I was uncomfortable. Shooting a smirk towards Delẹ, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Kainye smelt like dad— it was comforting. However, I did wonder for a second how he was able to afford such an expensive perfume.

"Are you crazy?" Dele roared, roughly pulling him off me. He fell to the floor and groaned, his jacket flying up and his black t-shirt rolling up his torso to expose cuts deeper than I'd ever seen.

My world stopped for too long, trying to process and make sense of the sight before me. He hastily pulled down his shirt and got up, like nothing was wrong. "Uh, I'll get going." He gave an awkward laugh and scratched the back of his head.

"Kainye," I whispered, too surprised to be in shock.

"God you're a psycho," Delẹ laughed. "Get out, he said nudging him out.

I pushed past Dele and ran down the stairs and out of the house to meet him, leaving my uncle who had shaving cream on his jaw confused. My aunt who was tying her gele paid us no attention.

"Kainye wait," I called out, catching up with him at the gate. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he chuckled. "Just..."

"Just what?" I raised my eyebrows. "H-h—"

"Pretend you didn't see anything. Please."

"You can't ask me to—"

"I can. I don't ask about your personal business even when I'm curious. I know your aunt maltreats you but I know you don't want to talk about it so I never ask."

"My aunt doesn't maltreat me," I tell him firmly. "She disciplines when needed."

"I know you're lying Clarisse," he sighed. "Please let me be."

"Kai—" I started but I stopped myself with j saw the plea in his eyes. He looked overwhelmed by emotional struggles; his eyes told me that he was broken— too broken to be fixed. As much as I didn't want body contact with anyone male, I pulled him in for a hug. "Whenever you're ready."

I couldn't eat or sleep for the rest of that day. Some emotion that I couldn't describe and still can't describe tore at my insides. My aunt kept shooting me weird glances that said in the most Nigerian way, "What's doing this one?" when she came back from church. She would furrow her eyebrows in a way that could be mistaken for concern, then pull her lips downwards all the while darting her eyes left and right. Sometimes she'd catch the eye of her husband and breathe a laugh like I was something funny to look at.

Later at night; just after dinner, I heard a knock— something Delẹ never did. "Ìdòwú?" The voice called. It was my uncle. "Come out," he said to me in Yoruba. ¹"Abi o gbọ Yorùbá ní?"

¹(Don't you understand Yorùbá?)

I stood up from my bed, my heart beating hard against my chest and opened the door. "Do you need something?"

He felt for the switch on my wall and turned it on. "I wanted to talk to you," he said. "Follow me to the sitting room."

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Kainye

After Sunday— when I was at Clarisse's house, I didn't go anywhere. Not even to school which was a means of escape for me. The first day was Kainene's birthday in which she would have been eight years of age. I stayed home and wallowed in self-pity while researching suicide in children below the age of twelve.

It was hard to believe.

The rate was very low— almost negligible but still, there was no plausible explanation as to why she had voluntarily eaten camphor balls. She knew what it was and had always despised the smell, making sure to throw them away whenever she saw them in her wardrobe. She hated camphor balls more than she was terrified of cockroaches.

Moreover, Kainene was smart. Too smart for her age. She always got perfect scores in her exams and at an age so young, she was in primary three; at the top of the class.

I remember when the school asked to place her in a class far above her peers. My mom has willingly agreed, pleased that her daughter was a top student. It wasn't a decision I wanted my mother to make— I remember telling her that it wasn't just about her intelligence. Her mental health mattered, and she needed to be placed with her peers but my mother refused, saying that I was just jealous because I had never been so "great" academically.

But why?

The only thought that crossed my mind was that her death was intentional. She hated her life, her parent's marriage, school and everything. My heart broke to know that despite all the love I showed her she didn't hang on because of me, but then again... Kainene always refused to be loved.

The second day, I lay on her bed. Her room was so organised unlike mine which was a chaotic mess. Books on neurosurgery were everywhere, I found a couple of my missing biology textbooks and the precious book by Ben Carson— "Gifted Hands" that Tiara's sister- Iwalewa had given her while she was head girl and a copy of Think Big given to her by Tiara. I stood up and paced about her room wishing she was seated there at her reading table- her computer screen showing images of brain surgeries and all that.

I wish her cemetery was nearby, so I could visit her grave every day and tell her how much I miss her. A part of me wanted to die and lay in a grave next to hers. That day, around four o'clock, the doorbell rang. Unwillingly, I dragged myself across the hallways and down the stairs to check who was at the door.

It was Clarisse. Her hair was in tiny twists just like Tiara always did her hair. She held a small bag in her hand. "Tiara said her mom made some meat pies so she asked me to give it to you," she said handing me the bag. "There are a couple of the school's doughnuts. I know you love them."

"Thanks," I said managing a smile. "You can come in."

She walked into the living and sat down gently, staring at the TV— with keen interest.

"I'll pop these in the microwave," I told her then hastily did that— setting the timer to one before running up the stairs to freshen up I hadn't showered, washed my mouth or eaten at all. When I entered my room, I ran into the bathroom and lathered my sponge with soap, washing my face, armpits, behind my ears and neck thoroughly and scrubbed the rest of my body in a rush.

Hurriedly, I towelled myself dry and wore clothes that were similar to what I was wearing. A black long-sleeve shirt with ripped grey joggers. Picking up a bottle of perfume, I sprayed it all over and went back downstairs.

"Hey," I said from behind her.

"You scared me," she said, sounding breathy. "You smell nice by the way."

"Uh thanks," I replied flying over the couch to sit next to her.

"How do you all do that?" She chuckled. "I haven't got the strength."

"I don't have the strength either," I shrugged, managing a smile. "I just can."

"Prolly 'cause you're lightweight."

"Maybe."

"Did you just shower?" She asked with raised eyebrows— a teasing smile played on her lips.

"Would you like some meat pies?" I bit my lower lip, looking away.

"No thanks," she grinned. "I have my answer."

Her facial expression was contagious so I found myself smiling too. Deep down, I was glad she didn't bring up what she saw on Sunday.

"I would do that too," she laughed, placing her palm on the back of my hand.

"I guess."

The curtains fluttered, and the wind was getting strong— I inhaled the pleasant metallic smell of the rain. It was going to pour buckets, like the day of Kainene's burial. I wondered why it was that windy. I guess climate change really did exist.

Lightening struck, thunder rumbled and the electricity from EKEDC went out. The living room was dark. Somehow my lips found hers. She pulled back gently almost immediately and the lights came on.

My mom and her aunt stood in the doorway, hands over their mouth. "Blood of Jesus! Kainyechukwuekene!" My mother screamed, dropping her handbag on the floor. "Are you mad?" She screeched.

Clarisse's eyes were elsewhere. She was unusually calm— with no sign of fear of what her aunt might do, but there was a shock which made her freeze in place.

"Sis, I apologize." Clarisse's aunt said to my mom.

"No! no! no!" My mom replied, shaking her head vehemently. "My son is to blame. I'm very sorry he tried to—" she couldn't say the word. It was forbidden in an African mother's Dictionary. "I'm sorry he tried to do nonsense with your daughter."

"Sis!" Her aunt countered. "Not at all. She knows better than to visit boys alone even if they are good friends !"

After a few minutes of silence, Clarisse's aunt spoke again, sighing, "Sis I will see you later. Let me run before I get soaked."

Clarisse sent a confused and mortified glance my way as she walked out of the door with her aunt.

"Since when did you become friends with her aunt?" I asked my mom, wringing my fingers together. The reply was a resounding slap that made me see stars and lose my hearing temporarily.

A/N
I know. You don't have to say it. 😂
This chapter is short... It's actually a long one, I just decided to split it into three parts so there aren't too many POV and scene switches.

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