He had completely ignored my statement and I hoped he believed what I said. I was still angered at the Campus Critic for pitting the death of his brother against him. I sighed, my eyes lingered on the dirty blue water that calmly moved around behind the small brick fence. The sun was up high but the trees mocked its inability to touch the people underneath her shades—me included.

The feel of the water on my skin was all too distant now. It had been almost a week and half since the night. A week and half since acting without thinking past myself. I remembered the force of the water against my body, the low current which pulled me further after I decided I wanted out. I had not planned to touch the water, let alone be inside of it. A message had been sent and the words had broken me. I thought the best thing was to take a quick stroll to let every emotion I felt take over. I left the hostel at a few minutes past eleven with the intention of returning before the gate was closed, but once I sat down on the cemented chair, I had lost every will. Crying had not taken away the multiple pains but the water had promised to.

In my white nightwear, I pushed my body in, making ripples out of the calm surface. The water had told me to let go, forget and be one with it. And I tried. But a face appeared repeatedly, one who I knew depended on me mentally and emotionally—my brother. And in that moment, I struggled against the water. If anything, I had to stay for him. I could not think of what would happen to him, I could not bear the thought of all he would suffer. I could not bear the thought that I would add to his misery, even if I was miserable. And afterwards, thoughts of my mother came too. I did not want to disappoint her.

Acknowledging the fact that I had not heard from her for a while, I reached for my phone, inputting the memory crested number. I held my breath as it rang, I hoped not to disturb her at work. After the fourth ring, her voice came on, tired and low.

"Destiny," she called me by my English given name. One that I completely hated but could not get her to stop since it was actually my first name. I cringed but ignored, worried about how she sounded.

"Mummy, good afternoon. How are you?"

There was a pause from her side and I waited for her to speak again. Soon enough, she did, "Good, how is school?"

Terrible most times, overwhelming, emotionally draining, "Good." I constantly tapped my feet on the ground unsure of what to say next. We were never always like this, distant. It happened a few years after she remarried.

"Do you need money?" She asked and yawned afterwards. I took my eyes away from the group of people chatting loudly and licked my lips. One thing I hated was having to bother her for money, mostly because I knew she worked real hard and also had my brother to send to. He and the husband she married always had a request. But I did need, especially since I had to begin to work on my final year project.

"Yes ma."

"Okay, just text me how much. I will try to send it to you as soon as I can."

"Okay ma, thank you."

There was another pause until I spoke.

"Have you heard from Dewor?" The longer version of my brothers name was Edewor. I envisioned the frown that made him ugly whenever he heard the name. The annoyed eyes he used to warn off his caller and the clenched jaw. He hated having to be called what meant a traditional religion sacred worship day. What he answered to happily was George.

"Yes, we saw him on his visiting day a few days ago..." I balled my fist at the mention pf the 'we', "He said you haven't called him since. You should do so."

"Yes ma." I had promised to call him once in two weeks and I had failed a promise of recent. "I will."

She breathed heavily and yawned again which made me wonder if she was getting enough sleep, "Good, I need to go back to reviewing my documents. Don't forget to send me how much you need."

My mother, Linda, was what people considered as a 'scholar'. She told us she graduated as top five from her university and even worked in prestige places after school. She was averagely successful, being the first to leave the village to the city, in her family and then she met my father. Fell in love or fell in something that may have not been love. Married a year later and had me. Almost the perfect family. He did well at work, she did well at work. Four years after me, they had Dewor and my mother resigned her job to take care of us. One of the biggest mistake of her life, she told us, because that was the period everything changed. Now she worked in a small Non Governmental Organization where the employer did nothing order than pile lots of work for the staffs.

"Yes mummy," we said our farewell and the call ended. I let out a long melancholic sigh then browsed through my phone for the number I was supposed to call, as promised.

The phone rang on for a few minutes before there was an answer. I cleared my throat and rolled in and out the hem of my skirt.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Johnson."

"Afternoon, who am I speaking with?" His voice was taut and my ears picked up sounds of what I suspected to be chewing. The man had not even bothered to save my number. I felt annoyed because he had been my brothers hostel master since he was in junior school.

"Dew--" remembering he didn't use the name in school, I stopped myself." Georges sister, George in SS2."

Confirming my suspicion, he chewed louder, then spoke. "Oh," his voice tone became lively, "is it you? How have you been?" I was always shocked at the fact that he could remember me happily. My brother and I suspected it was because of the time I had sent him airtime as a teachers day appreciation gift.

But he could still not save my number.

"Very fine, thank you sir. May I speak with my brother?"

Again, he chewed louder, annoying my eardrums. I scratched my forehead and closed my eyes for a moment. The group of people I had stared at before made their way out of the Lagoon Front.

"They are having lunch though..." he said at first and added quickly, "but I'll get him for you. Wait."

There was a shuffle of sounds which I assumed to be the Hostel Master moving his phone with him carelessly. I counted each second, praying my airtime would not run out before I got a chance to speak with my brother. Finally, a more familiar voice came on. I could not read the emotion in it.

"Destiny, hello."

I scoffed, "Dewor, hello too."

"Don't call me that na, I've told you severally."

"Then don't call me Destiny. Do to others what you want others to do t--" my brother cut me off before I could complete my sentence, telling me he knew and I should not preach to him.

After a light sigh, I asked, "How are classes?"

"Same thing as usual."

"But Visual art classes?"

He let out a sigh too, "still the only good thing I can manage here." He had a hard time concentrating in school and struggled with all classes except anyone which included drawing and colors. His report cards always gave my mother headaches even though he always put in his best. Being less than average also gave him a hard time with teachers too. And most of all, it affected his social skills.

"Did you draw me?" I smiled, my words an attempt to liven the dull mood I was sure he was in.

To prove I succeeded, he laughed. "No, forget it. Drawing you is hard, with your face being long. I don't want to waste my pencils."

It was my turn to laugh, "I will break your head. Are you telling me I look long?"

"Look? You are long."

Light wind blew my way, soothing me. "You are dead when I see you."

He chuckled, his voice soothing me also. I pushed my glasses up my face, dragged my buttocks to the edge of the seat and rested my upper body on my knees. I missed my brother.

"So, why did you not call since?" He questioned, his tone, calm. "I was worried." The promise of calling every two weeks was more of a pact. It would tell him I was alright and safe—because he sometimes liked to act like the older one—and I would know he was too.

"Sorry, had so many things and no money." I lied.

"You're lying," he cleared his throat and paused. I heard a male voice, one different from the housemasters, question him and he responded with 'I'll soon be done.'

"Who is that?" I asked, a brow up on my face while I pulled myself back to sit upright.

"Classmates. Lunch has ended."

"Oh," I heard more male voices but in the background. George had been thrown to an all boys boarding school after he completed primary school. It gave my mother the opportunity to concentrate on other things, like she said. But I wondered how long she would concentrate on things other than us since I too was thrown to an all girls boarding school.

"I should let you go."

"Don't worry, its Government, least I'll do is copy really long notes."

"You are supposed to be there to listen to his explanation," I argued.

"The man explained last week, madam."

With a frown I spoke, "doesn't mean you should miss class."

"I won't be missing anything." He breathed, "Nanya, I have not heard from you since. I don't care about the class."

I felt my heart beat double times then go back to normal. At the moment, I regretted I had ever entered into the Lagoon ten times than before. What if I had succeeded? Even in death, I would never have forgiven myself.

"Mummy said he came with her," I questioned, my intention to know if anything happened.

"Yes, couldn't be more angered. But as usual, cannot show mummy that side of us."

It was terrible, having to hide most emotions from our mother. Mostly because we did not want to hurt her. "Did he say anything?"

"Does he never?" I bit my lips as George spoke on, "Told me I was being a source of worry to mummy and I should be a man and forget about menial things like drawing...or something like that."

My eyes closed, a reaction to when I heard words that were spoken by him. They always brought pain."Do--" I cleared my throat, "Don't mind him, okay?"

"That I know. I'm just waiting to finish this wack school and..." I knew what he meant. Ever since the messages started coming into my phone, he felt he had hope in the one person I despised very much.

I shook my head like he could see me, my nose flared. "Don't even think about it."

"What? He is still our d--"

"Don't even think about saying it."

My brother argued on, trying to make me go with the idea, "he is better than staying where we are and you know."

"He left."

That was all that mattered and the whole reason for everything that happened in my life. He left.

"He returned."

"Dewor, what is he returning for?"

"Don't call me that."

I gave an annoyed laugh, "You don't like the name and yet you will willingly go to meet him?"

"I don't like the meaning. Not the person, besides you still use the name he gave you."

A grunt left my throat. I was mad now, "What does it matter? He left that is it." People passing gave me weird looks but I ignored, my attention solely on the words of my brother.

"I don't even remember that."

"Do I care if you d--" The network found the opportunity to let me know I had a minute left to speak with my brother before my call would be terminated because the airtime was exhausted. I breathed deeply.

"Hello," his voice returned.

"Airtime exhausted, remember to call me when there is anything..." I trailed off, knowing he understood what I meant. He agreed and remained me he knew, "I love you."

"Love you too si--" He couldn't finish, the call ended with the recorded voice of a female beating on my airtime being finished.

I sat there, unmoving as I stared at my phone and wishing things had gone different in our lives. He was never one to easily decide on something. But when he did, there was way to reason different with him. I envisioned his round face where brown round eyes sat with a broad nose and chapped lips. And when he smiled, the gap between his teeth became prominent. When he was angry, his high cheek bone appeared higher. All I wanted to do was have his lean body in a tight hug even if his head would rest on mine. He could use it and so could I.

"Boo!" the sound frightened me and I almost threw the device in my hand, pick myself up and run as fast as my body could. A laugh followed thereafter. The owner emerged from behind.

"You scared me Derrick," I said as calmly as I could muster, hiding all traces of anger and sadness.

He laughed on, the neck of his blue striped long sleeved shirt twisted a bit. I admired how he looked like a professional working class and then remembered his course presentation he had said was to hold today. "That was the plan na babe. What are you doing here?"

He proceeded to seat beside me on the cement bench. My eyes admired every aspect of him, from his arched jawline that got people tripping, to his well carved nose and those large eyes, a dark shade of brown which glowed when sunlight touched it, just as it did at the moment. I wanted to get lost in those eyes, just like I used to before. I wanted us to go back to the old times, where we talked and bared our souls. Where I was able tell him what I was going through and he comforted me. Looking into his eyes, I felt the connection, our connection. Our zing.

But that was only me. He looked away before I watched his hands work on the zipper of his black trousers. I shook my head, I would not think of it, I would not jump into conclusion.

"Just came to rest before I make my way back to hostel."

"Oh cool," I watched him as he looked around.

"What are you doing here also? And how did you know I was the one?" My real question was who are you here with. But I could not ask that, the last time I had suspected he had gone out with another lady, he called me a jealous witch and walked out on me. I always wondered why I stayed, every time. But then, I wasn't sure I could stay without him.

"Oh, your hair. It looked so old from afar that I just knew it was you." Evaded the first question.

Intimidated by his words, I touched the braids I had made three weeks ago. Maybe I needed to get a change of hairstyle. I always did so every two weeks, but of recent I have had no strength and worse, no money allocated for hair. I gave myself a mental reminder for the text message I needed to send my mother.

"Yeah, I was supposed to do it but I forgot with all the activities of last week. Maybe this week."

"Definitely should do it this week, can't be having my people thinking my girlfriend cannot take care of herself now, can we?" He stroked my cheek. By his people, he meant his friends. I knew only one out of the vast number of friends which he always bragged about, aside from Olamide who had told me she—in her words—was no longer his friend.

"Alright, by the end of the week. Lets see how it goes."

"Cool, cool. By the way, I am free this night, want to come over? I have honestly missed your cooking." He groaned and caressed the back of my hand. I bent my head and stared at the patterns on my green long sleeved blouse.

Cooking or me? A flash of anger crossed my mind.

Mentally, I shook my head, fighting off the emotion. I was the person who cooked. If he missed my cooking, then he missed me. But deep down, I did not believe myself. And ninety nine percent of me told me to tell him I did not want to come over. The other last percentage reminded me of how he took things when I told him no.

"Sure," I gave him my best smile. He kissed the side of my head and dropped his hand over my shoulder. "You're amazing." From the closeness, I smelt his cologne—a familiar fragrance of coffee mixed with a slight hint of vanilla. I leaned into him, my head on his shoulder. The moment felt perfect to me. A small breeze blew our way. And my nose caught more beautiful scent. It took a moment for me to register the fragrance, it was odd he had that on.

"You wear strawberry now?" I raised my head and asked with care.

"Wear?" he sounded genuinely confused. The look on his face confirmed he was too.

"You know...the perfume you use and all," now I had to pick my words carefully. He frowned for some time, raised a brow and completely bared his teeth out in a smile.

"What, no. I used the one you kept in my room, that oil thing."

I wondered what appropriate expression I was to give. Do I mirror his? Or do I let my blank stare be just that? Derrick told me, after I had been given the perfume oil by Olamide a few months back, that he hated the smell of Strawberry. He had joked about it not having the same taste with the smell and had also added it irritated him. Not wanting to have him irritated around me, I took it from his house and never used it since.

Usually, I let would let his lie go, smile and agree I still had the perfume oil kept somewhere in his apartment. Anything at all to not provoke him. But as I stared at him and noticed the purple mark on the collar of his shirt that I was sure did not come with the shirt, since I washed and ironed it, my body quaked. Maybe it was pent up anger from before he came, or maybe I was irritated by the smell of the strawberry fragrance now. I could not tell. I pulled out of his semi hold and gritted my teeth.

"I took it away from your house."

He took his time to scratch his hair before he faced me. "Well then who owns the one in my room? Me?"

Feeling tired of bearing the weight clearly, I took off my glasses. My vision of everything farther away from me became blurred. I wish he was among the vision too. "You hate my perfume, Derrick."

"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to try a new thing, so what Fumnanya?" He balled his fist and flared his nose, the sign of his anger.

You should stop, apologize for making a big deal out of the situation. I thought back to the night with Kiishiju and how he insisted on me having problems with my Derrick. Did I?

I don't have problems with him, I mentally insisted. But I needed to prove the musicians word wrong. I needed to prove myself wrong, so I pressed on with the argument.

"So? You are the one who said you could get sick from the smell of strawberry because you get irritated and yet, you are the one who has it so boldly emanating from you." I wore my glasses back. Stares were in my direction now but I could care less. "And by...what time is it? You have lipstick stains on your collar."

He glared at me and spoke through clenched teeth, "What are you trying to say?"

I scoffed. A strange burst of strength and boldness from my anger overwhelmed me, "Derrick, what exactly did you come to do around here? Your Faculty is a long distance from here, so what then?"

"Can you just imagine? Fumnanya, you are trying to accuse me of something? Why don't you just go ahead, tell me I am cheating because of one, just one I committed a long time ago that you cannot seem to forgive me for."

Just one?

I eyed him with malice I did not know I had. My hands shook. "Just one? You have the right to say just one?"

I gave a short laugh, my eyes welled up with prospective tears, "You call cheating just one like it supposed to be a frequent happening? How dare you? Are you supposed to even think of such action talk less do it? But you're here spitting nonsense and telling me just one." My breath hitched

"You have no right to accuse me of anything when you are running around town with that useless musician." He countered attacked, staring me down.

I wondered how he knew about Kiishiju and I, but pushed that thought aside. The most important one was the fact he thought he could turn his accusation unto me. A small part of me wanted to curl up and beg him. The larger part did not give a care in the world about anything other than letting my thought out.

"And you think I am cheating with him? You think I am cheating?" Hurt laced my chest, I looked away and carried on. "Fine, think it. But you..." again, I faced him, mostly to see his reaction. "I know all of your activities with who and what. You want to know how I know?"

Without waiting for him to answer, I carried on, "Your side chicks tell me. Maybe not verbally, but they give me eyes like 'we're screwing your boyfriend' or they try to whisper it loud when we pass each other somewhere. Is it Cordelia in your compound? She sings it to me or your course mate, Ireti? Or Damilola, Yetunde...who am I missing?" I counted on my fingers, a tear slipped from my face.

"And you sit and claim, its just one. They make me know that I am not enough for my so called boyfriend, they make know that no matter what I do, Derrick would find a way back to their legs. They make me know that no matter what I do, you Derrick would not be satisfied with being a fucking scumbag." I never curse, but my tongue had a mind of its own. Everything I wanted to say was out, but I felt no better. All I wanted to do was cry. I had known all these, of course, but saying it out made it hurt ten times than just the knowledge. The boy looked at me, a deep frown on his face. The face I always longed to see, but at the moment despised.

"You call me a scum?" Great, that was all he picked from the entire conversation, just great. No remorse or anything.

Wiping my tears from off my cheek, I turned away from him. "I should have called you worse."

Silence fell on us. Then he talked, "You know what? I don't care. After all I have done for you, you decide that this is the way you would talk to me, accusing me of nonsense. Lets end this, here and now. I'm done with you." Done with me? Like I'm just some property?

Derrick stood up, arranged himself and walked away. My chest heaved. What have I done? The tears threatened to flow like a mighty wave descending upon a shore. I looked in the direction he went, his back still very visible and my sight blurred from my tears. He got to the edge between the road and the Lagoon Front but did not step out. Instead he turned and began to walk in my direction. My heart did a flip.

I knew what to do—apologize and beg him not to take everything I said seriously. I would be happy to let it all go if it meant he could still keep me. I poked myself mentally for starting the entire argument. He was my first and I wasn't sure if I could stay without him.

He finally got to my side and I used my palm to dry off the tears that had managed to escape, a smile worked its way to my face. "You know what?" he began, my mood lifted, my hope restored. "You were always a...liability. I just had to come tell you that. There is absolutely no one who would want to keep you, you're boring, you're annoying, you're unable to any of the things the other girls I have been with could do. So, Fum, before you can call me scum, know what pertains to being a real woman." And with that, he made his way back o the direction he came in.

There was no fighting the tears, I broke. I was aware of the people who whispered around the Front but I couldn't care. Liability, It stung all the more. I had been a tool for him, too preoccupied in wanting someone to realize it was not love at all. But love or not I still loved him.

Are you in love or do you just like the feeling of being in love? My mind chided. I had no answer, I had something either way.

Time passed, the tears stopped and all I could see was the Lagoon, all I could hear was nothing as well as what I could feel. I did not bother to move. I felt empty...of a sort. My mind replayed all the talks I had had with Derrick, talks of future and children and traveling the world with him. I wanted to cry again but I guessed every water in my system had either ran out of me or been completely cried out.

The vibration of my phone pulled me out of my sorrowful memories. I had a message, but I was in no mood to read any text from anyone, be it human or bot. Again it vibrated, signaling the entry of another message. I sighed, sniffing many times. My body moved for the first time in minutes as I grabbed the phone from my bag. It was two text messages from Kstar, the name I had use to save the number of the musician. I tapped it open, my eyes felt heavy.

I spy with my little eye a green tree, what do you spy with your little eye?

Or is your eye big?

I frowned and looked around. The sun had began to threaten to retreat and they were a few people around. But there was no sign of him.

Are you around me?

I waited, my mind still on Derrick. I wondered what Olamide and Jennifer would say. Olamide especially, who told me to break up with him first, that way it would not hurt as much. But I couldn't. My phone vibrated again as Kstars message came in.

Nope, I'm on my way home and my eyes caught a tree, small like you but full of leaves.

Where r u?

My glasses slid down my face and I pushed it before replying. My fingers felt numb even as I inputted into the message box.

K, cool. Sitting...around trees.

My eyes looked at the time; 4:23pm. It was definitely time to get myself back to the hostel, but I could not find the strength to move from my spot. My stomach rumbled from hunger, but I had no appetite. I wanted to just roll up and lay somewhere, maybe on the ground. But on my bed mostly. I wished humans could teleport.

K? Worst reply ever. Play a game with me.

I call it guess the movie, song n singer

This time I wanted to throw the phone away. I wondered why I chose to reply him still. If I wanted to blame someone for this entire situation, I would give the larger part of the blame to him. If he had not mentioned my boyfriend, maybe I wouldn't have thought of challenging him like that.

With a groan I sent him a reply; I do not have time to play games. I don't want to ever play games with you. I threw the phone into my bag but before I could zip it up it vibrated again. Somehow, I could not ignore it. I opened the message up.

I feel like a stranger to myself, n sometimes that feels dangerous

but I bet you see me.

I chuckled while more tears flowed out, mainly because I knew the movie, song and singer. We had talked about movies and universes. He was into DC universe which I scoffed at while I hyped Marvels. And here I was with him, wherever he was, sending lyrics of what I liked.

"...for who I truly am, maybe not if it wasn't bland..." I whispered as I typed into my phone. A little feeling returned to my fingers.

Movie—spiderman: into d spider verse

I pressed send.

Song—Invincible

Singer—Animé

I sighed as my screen showed the amount I had been charged for the three messages. I did not feel better, but I did not feel ultimately bad either. Since teleportation would not work, I decided to use my feet. Gathering my things, I prepared to leave when messages entered my phone.

Ding! You win.

Reward, outing with me again.

My face wore a smile as I made my way out of the Lagoon Front. My fingers typed a reply to the boy at the other side.

°°°

hey, hey.

I know you've been waiting for insight as to why Fumnanya went to the lagoon. so you've gotten that.

What do you think of Dew--George?
(was about to say Dewor, he'd glare at me if he finds out, lol)

thank you for 2k reads.
I'm very highly grateful.

thank you for still reading.
I'm extremely highly grateful.

song is Sense by Tom Odell

next update, updated
omo.