" At least give me a lift mana" I was currently begging my mom to escort me to the hospital like she always does. She has vehemently refused. She won't even give me a lift!

"You have to start doing these things yourself. University zaki tafi ( you're going to the university)"

This time I rolled my eyes. She gave me some money for taxi and left. I was about to flag down a taxi when I got an idea.

"Call founder's favorite" I said to google. It started to ring. I know she's thinking 'ah, an English name I can pronounce'. You need to see how she butchers people's name's on this thing. Its ridiculous

Ff : hi babe

S : Hey, um where are you?

Ff : around, why?

S: I need a ride to the hospital. Please

Ff :....

What am I doing? I'm supposed to stay away from him! Now look at me looking dumb. What was I thinking?

S : you know what? Forget I asked. I'll just...

Ff : shut up. I'm on my way.

I absolutely hate when people tell me to shut up. Even as a joke I find it mad disrespectful. Totally forgetting about staying away from Hammad, I sat on the guard's chair outside the gate, waiting for him to come and tell me who he told to shut up, because it can't be Samirah.

Few minutes later, a Honda pulled up in front of me. A black one. 2008, 2009 accord? I'm not sure. But it's such a pretty car. And there's nothing as beautiful as a shiny black car.

He came out looking like a snack as usual. He was sporting a black kaftan, white gold wrist watch, a flawless hair cut and a killer smile. Man this guy is out to kill me. And I'm sure he got that hair cut just not because the edges were sharp!

He smiled more when he saw me and I smiled back. Where is his cap though? Not that I was complaining. His hair was perfect, thick black shiny curls and a taper fade covering his entire head. He had a clean face and goatee, light mustache. The Abuja boy national anthem of haircuts.
With the way I'm on Abuja boys' matter you'd think I'd be running for the hills the moment one texts me yet here we are.

I wanted to touch his hair. Can I touch your hair?

'That is creepy'

I looked down at my self, nothing special. A simple blue gown and a black veil. Like I said, plane Jane. Plus, who dresses up to go to the hospital?

His cologne hit my whole being when he closed up. Armani baby! Or not but damn. Marry me... it took everything in me to not sniff him.

"What is that?"

"What?"

"Your perfume. Heavenly"

He smiled sheepishly.

"Baby I'm a walking Gucci store, and you're looking beautiful as always" I rolled my eyes.

'Play Boy' I thought.

"shall we? Wani asibiti( what hospital?)"

"State house" I replied. He made an 'oh' face as we got into the car. Oh my God I'm getting into a car with a guy. When did I spoil like this? Ikon Allah. The car reeked of him. Cologne and hair spray? Weird but intoxicating combo. I reveled in it.

"You use hairspray?" I asked only slightly amused. Explains the shine curls.

"I decline to answer"

"You know that is also an answer right?"

"It is not" I laughed quietly.

We drove in a thankfully comfortable silence, then it hit me; What if someone I know sees me? This car is clearly not a taxi. Uber. I'll say it's uber. I wanted to pay myself on the back for that save.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" I answered with another question.

"Whose car is this?"

"Mine" owkay, rich kid

"And the one you brought the other day?"

"My mum's" oww. And the convo died. I noticed the aux cord plugged to his phone. Thank God, salvation. I carefully unplugged it and plugged in mine. Mask off by future was my last player to I played it. He raised his eyebrows, I'm guessing at my choice of music and I just laughed. We sang along and he laughed whenever I said nonsense. Work by rihanna came up and out of nowhere, he asks.

"Can you twerk?" Subahanalillahi

"What? No!" I replied, alarmed.

"Don't lie" he said laughing at my distorted face.

"Shut up!" I snapped.

"So you can twerk" he smirked.

"I said to shut up!" He did a zip motion with his fingers and lips but kept laughing. This boy is an idiot.

We were having fun until cardi b came up

"No no no hell no. Eww You are not listening to that in my car or around me!" He snapped and reached for my phone. I gasped dramatically at his cursing and moved my phone out of his reach. Toh you must listen to it today. Is it not me? Ah I increased the volume to the highest. He groaned and I laughed at his misfortune.

"I'd rather listen to Taylor swift" he grumbled.
"Tay tay is iconic so I don't know what you think you mean"

He groans again, like he's in actual pain. So dramatic tsk

He reached for the aux cord again, successfully unplugging it from the radio and I gasped. He smirked at me and plugged his phone back. He then played some Kendrick Lamar and Lucas Joyner. I began to rap and he began to laugh. Probably because I didn't know half the lyrics but i knew the tune and I had the vibes. I was unstoppable.

"You're Beautiful, but you can't rap, I'm sorry" I laughed at his stupid comment, he's not wrong though. I can't rap for shit. He left the staring wheel and randomly started breaking dancing. Wait he what?!

"HAMMAD!"

He quickly returned his hands to the staring wheel, laughing.

"Are you trying to murder me?!" I snapped, my heart galloping wildly.

"Its really not that serious. I had it under control" he said chuckling. What exactly is funny here my bro? I scowled at him and looked out the window. Not wanting to look at my attempted murderer.

"Hey, I'm sorry" he said and reached for my face with his hands. I swatted it away.

" Hands on the wheel, focus on the road"

He smiled before turning back to the road with mock seriousness. I told you he's demented smdh. Trying to kill me fifty five days to prom. He's really crazy damn. I imagined dying before prom and a shiver ran down my spine. God please don't let me die before I'm a complete muslim. You thought I would say before prom abi? You are mad too wallahi tallahi.

We reach the hospital gates. Hospital, home of needles. I cringed.

***
"Muhammad Sameerah" The nurse called and I responded getting up. Hammad also got up.

"And Where are you going?"

"In" he said grinning like a fish. I know fishes don't grin so whatever.

"No you're not" I pushed him back onto the chair. He frowned like a little kid as I followed the nurse into the consulting rooms. I laughed at the boymanbaby.

I feel like crying right now. Why? Malaria and typhoid test! Like guy I told you it was a migraine just believe me! I told Hammad and he was chill.
I take it he's not scared of needles then. Okay.
In minutes we arrived at the bleeding room. My mum was usually around when I do tests or get shots but today it was just me. He was here but you know what I mean, he doesn't count.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes" The nerves in my voice were pronounced.

"You're scared of needles" he said just realizing. He smiled a little and I scowled at him and entered the bleeding room. He came in after me.

"Are you related to the patient?" The phlebotomist asked Hammad. I was about to say he was my brother when he replied.

"Yes. I'm her husband" excuse me what? His face was dead serious and I wanted to laugh. How is he keeping a straight face? The face on the attendant's face however was worth a million bucks.

"But it says here that she is seventeen!!" He said in horror.

"And I'm twenty one. Early marriage" Hammad added, shrugging casually. I was dying. My laugh escaped and I morphed it into a cough. This was too much fun. I was brought back to reality when I saw him prepping the needle. I watched as it pierced my skin and vein. I never get used to the pain. Its like it changes style every time I swear. I squeezed my eyes closed to stop the tears from spilling. The pain slowly subsided but the sting was still there. Hammad was smiling at me like I did not just almost die. I scowled at him with tears in my eyes.

"Sorry you big baby"

"You'll get your test results by four pm today"
the lab attendant said seemingly irritated, eyeing us. He clearly took the marriage thing personal. Please is it your marriage? Abi it is your young? I swear Nigerians can carry people's matter on their head. I laughed at his expression as we left the room.

"Ice cream?" Hammad asked and I instantly lit up. My needle wound almost forgotten. Almost.