For the past few weeks, Uche's ankle recovered rather quickly under the watchful gaze of a grim stalker who followed her everywhere- the bathroom being the only exemption.

"Sit that little ass down right now," She commanded as Huma got up from where she sat, leaned back into the huge teddy bear and doddling something in a book, which she put away on Uche's emergence from the bathroom carrying two buckets filled with freshly washed clothes.

Huma obeyed, face sulky.

It was odd how fast she had adjusted to Uche's potty mouth. Out of the blues, she'd showed up at the apartment on a brief visit since it had been Sallah( apparently, the girl had been fasting unknown to Uche) bearing food, only to return much later after seeing her injured roommate, despite Uche insistence on being okay.

"You should spend the rest of the holiday with your family,"Uche had said when Huma appeared again with her things, intent on discouraging the girl's decision to stay back. "Next semester is going to be tough. You'll regret it if you don't." But she soon found out that Huma could be deaf as well. Then her father had called, asking of the extent of injury.

"Nothing serious,sir." She had answered, eyes narrowed at Huma who avoided her gaze. "Just tripped and fell. I'll be alright. Thank you for the food. I really do appreciate."

The weeks saw Huma at her bedside, attending to every little need. Sometimes, Uche would awaken to see the girl dozing off or sound asleep with hands pillowed under her head. It felt strange- someone watching over her- yet, oddly comforting. Now, however, Uche was fed up. She was injured not dying.

When she set the buckets down to open the door, Huma rushed to pick them up but they were far too heavy for her and she struggled.

Uche stared in amazement, recalling a time when the girl cowed into a corner in fear of her. "Since you want to carry them so badly," she said, unlocking the door and holding it open so Huma could go through unhindered.

Outside, Henrietta who was plaiting someone's hair in front of her room, a cigarette between her lips, waved at them. Huma cringed and disappeared down the stairs while Uche followed after they exchanged glances. Reaching the wash line, Huma bent over, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from her forehead.

"Tired already?" Uche started hanging the clothes and pegging them." Then again, why wouldn't you be. All you eat are custard and oats. I would have asked you to join me for my morning jogs, but you're too weak, too thin. I'm afraid you'll either end up slumping dead or disintegrating into dust along the way."

Behind Uche's back, a disgruntled Huma pouted. Why must she be so mean?

"Don't pout," Uche said dully. "The truth is bitter."

Huma's eyes widened with surprise. The witchy duckabit strikes again.

Finished, Uche turned, eyed Huma." Why do I feel like you just called me something?" Those big eyes darted to the side. " You did, abi?" She asked, and Huma shook her head. " I've told you before: you can't lie to save your life."

Some distance away, some persons passed by, entering the building and Uche looked up and made brief eye contact with Lawrence who was in the company of some guys.

Huma saw the distant expression on Uche's face before her features schooled into indifference. Had something happened between them?

"Get the buckets," Uche said, walking away. She half expected him to come knocking, but a few minutes later, he was heading back towards the hotel.

Camped on the floor, Huma watched Uche stare out the window. Was her roommate frowning or was it a trick of the light?

"What are you staring at?" The stern look in Uche's eyes had Huma shaking her head and holding up her book to shroud her face. She grabbed her water bottle, sipping water.

"Put that down. We're going to the market."

Huma suddenly choked on water. There had been no market in their plans today.

"And you're cooking," The book slipped off Huma's fingers, revealing stunned, wide eyes.

The market affair was bothersome, and Huma fanned herself several times under the heat as sweat trickled under her hijab while Uche perused foodstuff and condiments. They wandered around for what seemed like hours. For some reason Uche was unusually picky. At last they came to their final stop: the woman who had vegetables on display.

"A thousand naira's worth should be okay. We'll need some for stew later." Turning to Huma, Uche pressed the rumpled note into her hand. Huma stared at it blankly then glanced up.

"I'll be waiting over there," Uche said, pointing to an unoccupied shade far off.

Biting her lips, heart racing, Huma sent up a prayer before cautiously approaching the beefy woman. When she was asked how much tomatoes, Huma quickly wrote out the amount on her palm and showed the woman who then went about emptying little baskets into a plastic cellophane bag. It exchanged hands but Human soon realized she no longer had the money. Surprised, she looked to the ground and all around her. The woman grew impatient, snatched the bag back and shooed her away, calling her a thief.

Dejected, embarrased, Huma walked off, eyes searching for the lost money. She couldn't face Uche having botched up such a simple task.

"I don't see tomatoes," Uche stated the obvious as Huma joined her in the shade, hands clasped in front of her and head bowed.

Slowly, she signed why.

Nodding exaggeratedly, Uche produced the lost money from her back pocket- she had said so. "Try again."

Although Huma was miffed at being set up, she completed the purchase. While she sliced the tomatoes and put them in the blender, her mouth frowned, the middle of her brows tensed. Uche noticed.

"Still upset?"

Huma remained unresponsive, and continued to load the blender. Whenever they were in need of cutting, slicing and dicing, Uche let Huma handle the knife for reasons unknown to her.

"You want me to apologise?"

Well, she did want an apology. Huma believed Uche could have averted the humiliating outcome.

"I'm not going to." Uche spoke as she began deboning the fish, " Of course it wouldn't take anything from me but, it was your fault. You lost the money, and if I hadn't been there someone else would have picked it up. You'd still have been called a thief. It's normal, Huma. Life is full of instances: sad times, good times, embarrassing times. Why should I deny you of that. I bet you stay in your house all day. Welcome to the real world.."

What if she'd been attacked by an angry mob of market women, Huma thought, having heard of how people were brutally assaulted to near death or burnt alive for theft. Jungle justice, it was called.

" Don't worry, I won't let them strip and beat you." Uche assured as though she'd read Huma's mind.

Again Huma wondered what her roommate could do against an angry mob hungry for blood. The aroma filled the air, and she hoped the food tasted as good when she served Uche who still awaited dinner.

Huma held her breath, hoping, praying as Uche distractedly moulded the Eba in one hand, dipping it into the Okra while watching her laptop screen. She saw the food go down Uche's slender throat. For a moment, her roommate's expression remained ever impassive.

"Someone has been practising,"

It was true. Huma had used every opportunity her mother's absence had presented, her father had done the tasting.

"Less salt next time,"

At the remark, Huma's face fell. Another mistake. Why couldn't she get it right?

"The soup is not going to be enough," Uche held up the plate and when it didn't change hands she looked at Huma who had her brows raised so high that they almost disappeared into her hair net.

Was her roommate asking for more? Huma blinked.

"You know what? I think I've lost my appetite . The food took so long to--" Uche watched Huma rush into the kitchen after grabbing the plate. She licked soup her fingers clean and smiled, the light from the screen reflecting off crystal eyes.

Someone knocked on the door, and Uche went to open it. A slim girl with thick glasses smiled nervously at her.

"Yes?"

"Hi. Good evening." The girl's eyes minified by the glasses wandered with uncertainty. " Sorry to bother you, but i was told I could find a make up artist here."

At that moment, Huma emerged from the kitchen and placed the plate on the reading table. They turned to look at her as she came to stand beside Uche, eyes curiously round.

"You're in the right place. She's the one. Come in," moving aside so the girl could enter, Uche put on a smile. To Huma, it was rather strained. "Good evening,"

The girl had a birthday party to attend the next day and she wanted her face made up before leaving. Her friends were also interested, only if the work was good- they would watch the process from start to finish. Seven thousand for each person. Initially, Huma set the price at ten thousand when Uche held up ten fingers. It felt exorbitant, and Huma was almost certain they would loose the customer. Surprisingly, the girl had haggled for less: a reduction by three thousand. They were four in number. Huma did the math.

"Okay, so that will be twenty eight thousand. Let me have your account number and your contact." Perpetual was her name. After the details were exchanged, she went on to describe what she wanted. " I'll call you in the morning before we get here. Thanks so much."

Had she just made money? She looked to Uche who was silently observing her,eyes unblinking.

"Congratulations, your first customer. Or should I say customers."

That night, Huma couldn't sleep, other worries forgotten . While Uche got ready to go out the next morning since her ankle was mostly healed, she busied with preparations. Her fingers shook as she arranged her make up kit, the products clattering. What if she messed up? Why hadn't she declined immediately? Oh, she felt like crying.

"Give me that," The products she had in her grasp were plucked out and tossed back. Huma bowed her head as Uche sat on the bed, afraid the tears smarting her eyes would be seen."You've done this countless times with your face and mine. They are just another."

"Unpaid services,"

"So you're making some money- the only difference. Even better." Uche exhaled, flicking her nose. " Look, you have nothing to be scared of. You're quite good. Just do your thing."

Was that a compliment? Slowly, Huma raised her eyes but Uche wouldn't meet her gaze. She seemed embarrassed.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Give me her number, I'll do the calling." As Uche brought out her phone, Huma placed her hand over hers. They were smooth. The hand cream had worked fast. "That's a good girl."

Uche left. Before the girls arrived, Huma soothed her nerves by burying her nose in lavender scented palms. It kept her calm as she brushed the faces with great finesse, each convinced girl taking turns on the bench outside the room. In the end, they loved the outcome and paid readily, promising to refer other. When Uche returned that evening, Huma showed her the money that had been transferred into her bank account over a cup of chamomile tea.

"Your first paycheck. How does it feel?"

Gleeful, Huma signed. "Feels amazing. If I could get this in a few hours, how much more would I make if I do much more in a week?"

"Hey," Uche said after a wry chuckle, " don't get ahead of yourself, Warren Buffet. It's just twenty eight thousand naira. For you to make much more we are talking about putting in hours, encroaching study time. And it's not like you'll get work everyday. Don't get your hopes up or you'll be disappointed. These things take time and consistent effort and-." Uche paused a moment when she realized the girl's distracted, bright stare. The joy was overt. Understandable for someone who had led a cloistered life. Her lips tipped. "Good job, anyway,"⁹

Awkwardly, she reached out to rub Huma's arm and was caught off guard when Huma reciprocated with an affectionate hug. Her muscles, tensed at first, relaxed. Huma felt this, smiled, closed her eyes and snuggled closer.

"You should rest," Uche said above her. "Your hands must hurt."

Her wrists especially. Sweet pain.

"You'll need a standing mirror. I have a feeling you'd be having customers in no time."

And it turned out to be true, each week brought about two, and every time Uche ensured she was absent, her ankle having healed. A sense of freedom overcame Huma each time  her account balance reflected another job well done, more satisfying were the positive remarks and promises that accompanied them. And she had her roommate to thank. Despite the inconvenience, Uche never discouraged the process.

One cool evening, she approached Uche who was seated outside, head tilted back.  Huma thought she was asleep and gently lowered down next to her on the bench, gasping when Uche rolled her head over with half closed eyes.

"What is it?"

Huma proffered the wrapped item in her hands. Uche stared at it then at her. After a moment's hesitation Uche tore the wrap apart to reveal a book.  The glossy cover caught light as Uche scrutinized it with her phone torch. Amenze's latest novel- the book she'd been reading online for the past few weeks.

Somehow Huma found out about the recent work, and thought her father could purchase it on her behalf. For some reason her roommate seemed rather fond of the author. The perfect gift for the motivation. Excepting to see an appreciative smile, Huma frowned when her roommate's  face hardened. Her jaw clenched in the reflected light.

"Did you go through my things?"

Huma drew back at the dangerously low tone.  The response was unexpected, confusing.

"Don't ever do that again."   Uche stood up and went inside without the book,  leaving Huma perplexed.

The next day they prepared for school. As Uche shoved books into her bag, Huma watched helplessly, chewing on her bottom lip. She was being given the cold shoulder and she couldn't come up with ways to warm up things between them; worse, Uche wouldn't even look at her. Had what  she'd done been so  upsetting?

Uche suddenly paused, staring into the open bag, and for the first time that morning she looked at Huma. " I'm sorry about yesterday."

"I'm sorry, too. I won't do it again."

The book was on the reading table. She picked it up; Huma saw her fingers tighten where they held. " Thank you."

Then Uche smiled.The light didn't reach her beautiful, hazel eyes. They were sad, bereft, pained even. It was that look, the one that had left an indelible impression.  Right there, Huma made a promise: she'd never want to see those eyes without sparks, nor those lips without smiles.

Stepping forward Huma held that hand, felt it relax. She looked into her eyes. " You deserve it."  Huma couldn't tell if her roommate considered those words but she smiled again and looked away. Still no light in them.

A/N

Thanks for reading!