||JOE||

When I first saw Tamia on the podium introducing the topic of the presentation, I felt no instant attraction towards her. That was until she spoke brains and I was a goner. The girl is impressively smart and admirably confident.

During the Q&A session, she answered almost all the questions SPG was asked about CCTV technology. That too, with ease making it look like she knew everything there is to know about it. I especially loved the point where she bluntly mentioned that CCTV cameras inside dormitories are nothing but a breach of privacy.

She couldn't have been more right. She insisted that if at all there should be cameras around the dormitory area and classes, then they should be installed outside. It is also during that session that I started seeing past her smartness.

She is beautiful. More so her sleepy eyes and the dimples she has on the corners of her mouth instead of her cheeks. Now, I'm getting attracted to or rather fascinated by her. On the other hand, unknowingly, she is slithering like a serpent on my skin determined to make its way into my heart.

In the flocked field, I walk towards the Triple F squad. I give them a once over before my gaze and attention entirely focuses on Tamia. Out here, she feels different. Maybe because she now looks and feels reserved.

That is judged by her behaviour in the group. She doesn't look that talkative. But perhaps it's the environment. She could be a parrot. For a great presenter like her, I wouldn't be surprised.

She has a sweet body. It's petite yet curvy in all the appropriate places. The slightly loose skirt doesn't look like a sack on her like most do on petite ladies. Her fair and flawless chocolate complexion makes her look edible. The white blouse illuminates it making it look even more delicious.

Needless to mention, her height, which I estimate to be around five foot eight is perfect for my six foot two self. Damn, I guess window shopping will have to sit out today. I can't just stare at her the whole day. I have to approach and get to know her more.

"I can see where you are headed," Kelvin says with a shit-eating grin that nearly annoys me.

Of course, he is enjoying the fact that Tamia has got my full attention.

"Stop that," I groan.

"What? I can see it. She's pretty but in a reserved manner. Which is quite a contrast given she just came from blowing the hall with her impressive presentation skills. You can see that too but since she has got the brains and you are all about that, I can't stop you from approaching her," he says.

"Window shopping, Kelvin," I grunt.

"It doesn't look like you will be doing that today. On the other hand, I'll be the one doing it," he says. "But I would rather just mingle with other guys since I'm not interested in other girls."

Sheraw should know how serious he is about her. He won't even dare mingle with other girls.

"You got yourself your real deal. I'm happy for you, bro," I say in a serious tone.

"Thank you," he appreciates. "It just sucks that she didn't come."

"Now I badly wish that she did come. I would have gotten something better to grill you about. I hate to be on the other end of the grilling sword. But most importantly, you would have spent time with her."

"It doesn't matter. I'll just hope that she will be there for our technicals contest," he wistfully says.

"I hope so too," I say in a prayer.

We get to where the Triple F squad is and all of them turn their attention towards us with grinning faces and coveting eyes. All except Tamia who seems like she isn't interested in talking to us. Though that doesn't mean that her eyes aren't raking over us, carefully studying us.

"Daisy," I call the ever-cheerful lady.

She smiles at me and steps forward to hug me. The rest of the crowd does the same. Tamia seems unsure. Out of place too. It's like she is in unchartered territory which makes me even more curious about her.

"Tamia," I greet, stretching out my hand for her.

With a curious yet sleepily beautiful gaze, she scrutinizes me before stretching out hers to shake mine in return. It is small, warm and nearly fragile. I tighten the handshake and slowly pull her towards me. A confused and bothered frown forms on her face whilst she reluctantly comes to me.

When she is but three inches away from touch, her gaze turns wary and surprisingly fascinated as she studies me. Although I can feel a standoff-ish vibe she is throwing my way. She can act bothered by my actions and silently give me standoffish vibes but neither will help her. I've already set my eyes on her and she won't be able to get rid of me that easily.

It is her fault anyway. I didn't tell her to be so smart and pretty that I ended up getting interested in knowing her. At the moment, I can almost see myself answering that question they ask, 'what about her stood out for you and made you want to know her more?' Her smartness. Brains and then her beauty."

"Joe," I introduce myself, letting go of her hand and pocketing mine.

She blinks and squints her eyes as if she is trying to thread something together. She then looks at me and the reservation that was there a second ago becomes non-existent.

"Joe who?" she forwardly asks, her beautiful sleepy eyes darting from one edge of my face to the other.

"Joe Danson Karanja," I respond, mentally slapping myself on the face.

For the love of functions, I have never introduced myself with my full name which will soon appear on my ID card. I'm already eighteen and I cannot wait to register for that damn little thing before joining campus. It means unlimited freedom.

"Joe from East Squared?" she asks, her eyes widening with what seems to be realization.

And also, relief. I can't tell why but I'm suspecting that she has an agenda with me. She wouldn't be the only one as I already have one too and that is to get to know her more.

"Yes. Are you looking for me?" I ask with a lopsided smile.

Surprisingly, she nods.

"But because I have something for you," she quickly clarifies making me smile.

"What could that be?" I curiously ask, checking her out some more.

Wait, does she have six fingers? Jeez, she does. Although the sixth is so tiny it is apparent that it was once operated on. Probably to prevent it from growing into a real finger. It would be a nuisance but also a mark of beauty.

"A letter from June," she tells me.

I nearly groan loudly. June. Ugh. June is merely in love with my good-looking face and the fact that I am a rich boy from the famous Karen. That's what moves her about me and not me as a person. Fake as hell and she most likely thinks that I don't know. The poor thing.

Tamia fishes inside her black backpack, retrieves a lilac water bottle and then three carefully stapled and calligraphed letters. Perhaps Sheraw wrote to Kelvin. It would make me very happy because he wouldn't feel so bad after all. He would have some solace.

"Come on, Kel," I call him, just as Tamia hands me the letters.

He leaves Johnson, Daisy and the other girls from Tamia's class who a while ago, stepped a few metres away from us as if to give us space.

"Please deliver the other two to their intended recipients. I don't know them and since they are from your class, you obviously know them," she says as I check the receivers' names.

Great! Kel has a letter from Sheraw. Clever girl. I figured she should have written to him if she wasn't going to be there for him physically.

"What's up?" he asks looking between us.

"Kelvin, meet Tamia. Tamia, meet Kelvin," I introduce them while handing him his letter.

He grabs and flips it on all sides studying it. For a few seconds, he seems drawn to it. As if he cannot stop looking at it. When his fallen face lights up a little, I smile and silently thank Sheraw for being thoughtfully considerate.

Also, it is at this moment I realize that whatever exists between Kel and Sheraw isn't some dumb shit. It is real shit. He raises his gaze and meets mine briefly before meeting Tamia's.

The latter seems to be studying me which catches me a little off-guard. Her eyes quickly shift to Kel to avoid locking her busted gaze with mine.

"Oh, nice to meet you, Tamia," he smiles at her.

"Pleasure is all mine," she says with a polite smile.

Proud girl can't even say nice to meet you too. It makes me smile. She notices it but doesn't react.

"And thank you for the letter. I appreciate it so much," Kel adds in gratitude.

"You are welcome," she says before turning her attention to me.

"Thank you for approaching us. I was kind of going crazy trying to figure out how I would approach you guys," she tells me, sounding relieved.

"You didn't have the courage to do it or what?" I ask with a curious frown.

She is courageous enough to make such a beautiful presentation yet shy to approach a guy? Fascinating.

"I've never been big on approaching or better yet mingling with guys," she admits. "I'm either shy or a coward. Whichever suits best," she adds making me chuckle.

Kel laughs lightly as he checks her out some more with a curious face. He's probably trying to get to know her a little more from just observation.

"You don't strike me as a coward. Right now, look at you, you are boldly talking. Maybe you fear something else," I prompt.

"Like what?" she asks with a raised brow.

"Guys don't approach you much on such functions or any other places. Which in turn, makes it even harder for you to approach them. Well, why approach them if they can't approach you first?" I respond.

"If they don't they are not interested. I'm also not interested," she shrugs as a matter of factly.

"You are a self-proclaimed coward. Plus you only try to convince yourself that you aren't interested but you know you are. It is just that it never works out for you because nobody shows interest in you to return it," I state and for a moment, I see a flash of hot anger cross her sleepy eyes.

"Well, it's not like it all matters anyway," she says, giving me a fake smile.

I got her. People aren't interested enough to approach her. Probably because of her reserved nature and also the fact that she harbours the village kind of vibe. Gen Z high schoolers want city girls or those born in towns and not in the village.

Stereotype: Village girls are old-fashioned, sometimes timid and very uptight.

Thus, they want sharp and modern captivating ladies.

"Why didn't Sheraw come?" Kel asks when a moment passes without a word from me or Tamia.

The silence neither feels awkward nor comfortable. It's just in the grey area. My distant gaze shifts from a group of girls and back to Tamia just as she responds to Kel's question.

"Her name popped up on the Banned List this morning."

"Shit. What happened?" Kel frowns.

"It's not my story to tell. I don't want to look like some gossip. She might or not have explained all about it in her letter," she says, pointing at the small thing that Kel is still preciously holding.

"Alright then. I'll see if she did," he says before patting me on the back and walking away.

The man knows when his presence is no longer needed. It is now time to personally get to know this lady who seems to have a string that is pulling on my toes.

"I don't think I have seen you before. If I have, then I completely bypassed or never noticed you," I prompt, hopefully opening the ground for more talk.

"As I said, I'm not big on this mingling thing," she defends. "For instance, I have been to all technical contests and symposiums including those of other subjects yet I only got to hear of you yesterday through my classmates."

"I'm somewhat famous or infamous in Triple F. It all depends on one's point of view. You on the other hand are the total opposite. I cannot believe that I've known the class for three years, also been to countless contests and symposiums with them and yet I've never known you," I state in wonder.

I'm still surprised by the fact that she is a Triple F gangster and I've not heard about her before. She must really be reserved or better yet, uninterested in 'this mingling thing'.

Otherwise, she would have made an effort to know at least some of the famous faces in her brother class.

Now I think I missed her because I was busy chasing skirts while she was busy being her reserved self and probably hiding from the general crowd. Nevertheless, I'm glad that we have finally met.

"Then you can see how good I am at keeping a low profile," she says with a hidden smile.

"You are good at that, for sure. So, where do you come from?" I ask, just to keep the conversation going.

"Muturu, Nyeri," she says with unwavering confidence and fondness that nearly takes me aback.

"I've never heard of the place," I comment.

"It is a small village next to the Aberdares," she says with a fond smile.

"You get to access the national park on a daily basis?" I ask, for a better lack of words. She nods in response.

"We fetch firewood and also graze inside it. Well, at least on the area that's not covered by the electric fence meant to keep most of the wild animals away," she responds.

That makes me curious about her holidays. They seem pretty fun if not tiring to carry out said activities.

"What do you do in the village during holidays?" I ask, just to satisfy my curiosity.

"If I'm not going to the farm, then I'm grazing goats and sheep," she responds confidently.

I love the way she is fully embracing her real self and home as well. It's admirable and impressive. Unexpected too.

"You can farm?" I ask, giving her a once-over.

"Yes?" she responds, giving me a 'can't you?' look. "Do I look like I can't farm?"

I can barely hold a panga leave alone farm. I'm a Karen freak who only knows about video games, biking and all that city kids kind of shit.

"I can't farm. But you do look exactly like you can farm," I respond, immediately regretting uttering those words.

"Well, I'm not some princess hidden in a village," she fires back. "In fact, I'm the girl who will build your house-kept dog a damn good kennel."

That prompts a smile on my lips. It's unbelievable yet I don't doubt that she can do that. If she can graze and farm, building a kennel can't be foreign knowledge for her.

"What ice cream flavour would you want to have, right now?" I ask as I lead us towards a young man hawking ice cream.

"Thanks but I don't want ice cream, honestly. I've got really nasty tonsils that I wouldn't want to wake by having ice cream," she explains.

"I've known so much about you in a few minutes yet you know nothing about me except what you've heard from your classmates," I point out smiling at her.

"Even I am surprised I'm talking this much," she smiles.

"I told you you are a self-proclaimed coward or shy girl. You only need a trigger. That beings someone showing interest," I point out.

Again, I regret it because, for a moment, I feel as if she has withdrawn from the conversation and has gone back to being reserved. We silently walk for a minute before she speaks again.

"Where do you come from?" she asks.

"What do you want to have if not ice cream?" I deflect.

"Nothing really," she honestly responds.

"I'm from Nairobi," I respond to her earlier question.

For a second, she seems fazed. She even stops to take a good look at me.

"Nairobi is big," she comments, prompting me to tell her my exact home location.

"Karen," I tell her.

She raises her brows studying me. Then, all of a sudden, she draws up a wall. A boundary. I can feel its magnetism which if I care to admit it, is scary. Maybe Karen sounded too sophisticated for her.

"The famous with rich-people Karen?" she asks as we bypass the ice cream guy.

"Yeah. Why?" I ask.

"Nothing. That's nice though. Between us, you are the prince hidden behind the rich walls of Karen. You wouldn't lie about it though right?" she asks as if she's seeking confirmation.

"Why would I lie about my home?" I ask with a frown.

"Because everybody wants to come from town," she explains.

I inwardly groan for forgetting that it crossed my mind earlier when she fondly and confidently talked about her home.

"Oh, that. Well, everybody indeed wants to come from town. I'm even surprised you didn't shy away from telling me that you really come from a village."

"It's my home. I can't disown it to please or get someone's attention. That is faking because you want to be someone you are not," she says, somewhat sounding offended by the thought.

Blatantly, she is laying out her standards. I find it classy which makes me feel more drawn to her. I can't even deny that it is happening.

"Ice cream on me," I insist.

"Seriously, I can't have ice cream," she groans, making it a point to show it to my face.

"One won't kill you, Tamia," I argue. "Besides, I'm also having it despite my ass having a common cold."

She takes in a deep breath and shakes her head as if she cannot believe I'm saying that.

"You will get tonsils which will make it worse," she lightly scolds.

"At least then I won't be alone," I shrug with an inviting smile.

"You won't stop, will you?" she groans.

"No," I smile victoriously.

"Okay, fine," she gives in. "Then let us go and buy ice cream."

"No, I'm buying," I pointedly say.

She stops and blinks severally staring at me

"What?" I ask, my eyes darting to hers.

"I'm used to buying things for myself and that is what I'm going to do with the ice cream," she says with finality.

"I'm the one doing the buying, Tamia," I insist. "Surely, you wouldn't want my pride as the gentleman to be wounded."

"That wouldn't be my problem. It would be yours for taking it to heart," she says as a matter of factly.

It nearly makes me laugh but I settle for a smile.

"Are you a firstborn?" I curiously ask.

"What does that have to do with your pride?" she asks with a cute confused frown.

"Because firstborn girls are also proud. Unless you don't want me to insult your pride, miss independent."

"Don't use my firstborn status to try and get your way into buying me ice cream. Yes, we are a little proud, independent, responsible and want to be in control but you can't blame us for being that way. Some of us are who our younger siblings are looking up to, "she defends herself looking a little offended.

"I am sorry if that came out the wrong way," I apologize.

Although it is too late because she looks ready to bolt. It sucks because I'm not even done with her. I should have just let her have it her way. At least it would have ensured we stuck together for a while longer.

"It is okay," she assures me. "For now I think I will just go back to my friends. It was nice meeting you, Joe. Oh, please don't forget to write to June and Kelvin to Sheraw. They want to be sure that I did deliver the letters."

"Still haven't had ice cream," I point out, trying to buy us more time.

"It's okay. I wasn't willing to take the risk anyway," she says. That hurts. A little.

"You want it this way?" I blurt out.

"What way?" she frowns.

"You want to leave. Us. Hanging. To go to your friends who obviously might not even be around. I can tell you of someone who is being banged at the moment," I state, hoping to stop her from leaving.

Though I doubt I can because she looks so determined to do it.

"Just don't. I'll stick to the ones I'll find," she states.

"Have it your way then, V~Girl," I sigh in defeat.

"What?" her brows furrow.

"Village girl," I rub it on her face which annoys her.

Good. If she won't stay here with me, then she might as well leave annoyed with me.

"It's Tamia or Wangui and nothing more," she dictates.

"I don't care. You earned it," I state, just as we take note of Kel approaching us.

He is wearing a curious gaze as if he has already sensed that things between me and Tamia have gotten a little tense.

"Enjoy your company with Kel. I'll be waiting for those letters," she says before turning away and literally hurrying off.

A wicked smile crawls on my lips. I think I have gotten the girl I have been looking for. Too bad for V~Girl because she will have to put up with me until we get tired of each other and then dumps each other's asses for good.

"What's the grin for? Did you manage to win her over?" he asks eagerly.

"No. Too strong-willed. Too miss independent. Somewhat proud. Too bold. Too reserved. Too responsible. Too many things but most importantly, too firstborn," I respond.

"Too not your type," he silently sighs.

"We cannot be two firstborns in a relationship. That is going to be a tug of war," I say, failing to believe my own words. Probably because they are a lie.

"Surely, you can't be thinking that she could overpower you and maybe humble you," he says, restraining a smile.

"Overpower me, no. Humble me, definitely," I grunt. "She can't overpower me because she is a baby girl on the inside. On the outside, she is just the tough girl that life has forced her to be as a firstborn."

"Oh shit, did you say a relationship? Just a while ago. Bro, have you already gone down the slippery slope?" he asks with an annoying grin.

"No, I haven't," I lie. Well, partially.

"It has always been easy to deny things we don't want to accept," he mocks. "Anyway, you are the man for her. The one who has to show her that she is still a baby girl."

"No thanks. Not interested," I shake my head in denial.

"Even in her?" he asks in a serious tone.

"I just gave you a list of things why it can't work. That is assuming I want her in the first place," I respond, once again denying it and lying my ass off.

"You don't want her because she is too firstborn for you or what?" he interrogates.

"You know what? Take me to SPG's bus."

"Aha, running after her," he mumbles excitedly.

At this point, I feel like he has already put it in his head that Tamia and I can be a thing. Additionally, he is pushing for it. He might as well be in luck because I am interested in her.

"No, dummy," I say. "I'm going to steal something from her."

"Dude, are you crazy? Either crazy in the head or crazy about her," he asks making me stare him down. He doesn't back down until I give up.

"Drop it, Kel. And she wants a reply to your letter by the way. So you might want to write it and give it to her later before she leaves."

🧯TRIPLE F x EAST SQUARED🧯

After hours of getting caught up in other businesses with my classmates, I take Kel with me to look for Tamia. The time for people to start leaving for their schools is almost here and we still have unfinished business with V~Girl that we cannot allow her to leave without completing it.

I do not know if she knows that I'm the one whole stole her lilac water bottle. If she doesn't, I'll be happy to let her know I am the thief. Anyway, after several minutes of searching, we find her chilling by their bus with two other girls from her school.

They don't look like Triple F gangsters. Maybe they are from other classes. She is listening to whatever one of them is enthusiastically telling them. I'll bet it has to do with a guy shooting his shot at her. Such enthusiasm tells it all.

As if Tamia can feel my burning gaze on her, she turns around looking for it. In a second, her gaze locks with mine. She takes in a deep breath and maintains eye contact until we get to them. As I walk towards her, her gaze silently tells me that she has been waiting for me.

She doesn't look too pleased to see me but at the same time, she also looks pleased. I don't understand it. It is like a contradiction.

"Come here, V~Girl," I call her aside.

"I'm Tamia," she fiercely says making me smile. Kel laughs. The idiot.

The other girls, as if they were waiting to get rid of her, walk away towards the hawking area.

"V~Girl," I insist and she scowls at me.

"Why are you looking for me?" she asks, going direct to the point.

"Because I have something for you," I respond, restraining a smile.

"The letters," she groans.

"The letters and something else that you will have to deliver by word of mouth," I say, handing her two letters.

That's mine and Kel's. She shoves them into the bag after scrutinizing them for a moment.

"What could that be?" she curiously asks.

"Ground rules, don't think of telling anyone else apart from Sheraw. Do you hear me?" I ask in a serious tone and she nods in response. "Don't tell anyone else, V~Girl. Just Sheraw."

"I won't," she assures me. "But you are making me suspicious."

"We have an upcoming contest in our school. Tell Sheraw that she has to be there. She will know what to do," I tell her.

Her drop jaws to the floor upon hearing that. Her face on the other hand is marred with a bewildering shocked expression that exponentially changes into a stupefied expression.

I should have thought it twice before assuring Kel that she would help us. Right now she looks like the last person on earth who could help us. Needless to mention, just by delivering a message.

"If you have already read her letter, you will know that she cannot come," she says to Kel.

"I know. Just tell her that I need her and she will know what to do," Kel says.

She stares at us as if she cannot believe whatever we are saying. Actually, she cannot believe it.

"Are you suggesting that she sneak out of school to come to see you?" she asks, making the idea sound ridiculous.

"Sneaking out is too big a word for such a small act," Kel casually says. "She is just going out of school unnoticed."

Tamia looks at him as if he is insane which makes me chuckle.

"It is not funny, Joe," she scolds.

I snap my mouth shut but I can't help the smile spreading through it.

"I know and that is why you have to tell her. It's serious," I retort.

"I can't believe you two," she groans.

"No need. Just make sure you deliver the message. I'll see you next time at SPB," I wink at her.

"No, my water bottle," she demands. Of course, she knows.

I had my accomplice Daisy take me to the bus to take it. That was after Tamia went for lunch to the cafeteria. She had left her backpack and the water bottle behind on her seat inside their bus.

Daisy was supposed to tell her about it to provoke her into looking for me. Though this proud girl knew that at the end of the day, I would come looking for her. So, she never bothered to come looking for me.

Kel leaves us. But not without a conspiratorial look to let me know that he's giving me some space. Moreover, I better make it work.

"If you want it back, then I'll see you next Saturday at SPB," I state.

"Just give it to me. Either way, I'll still come," she insists.

"You will, genius. Though I'm talking about coming to me and not our school precisely."

That surprises her and renders her speechless.

"Joe, I'll see you next Saturday?" Daisy tells me as she walks past us with Johnson in toe.

"That's for sure," I say. "Tell your girls that the autobiography will be ready by then. You know what to do from your end."

Every year we write an autobiography about ourselves. It's for recoupling and making new friends by sharing our information and contacts with them.

By the look on Tamia's face, I can tell that she doesn't write them. Probably never participated. Else, I would have known her by now.

"We shall do it before then," she assures me. "Tamia, we are about to leave."

"She's coming in a few," I tell her.

She nods, curiously looking between us before boarding the bus, and taking Johnson along.

"You are not going to write it, are you?" I ask Tamia, referring to the autobiography.

"No," she responds.

"Alright, then," I nod in understanding. "Now, run along before the driver drives off and leaves you behind. Although not without hugging me."

"You still haven't given me my water bottle," she reminds me.

"We already agreed that I'll give it to you when you come to me next Saturday," I remind her.

I know we didn't agree but that is how it is going to stick. She lets out a defeated sigh and shakes her head as if she cannot believe what she got herself into.

"Now, how about that goodbye hug?" I ask with a raised brow.

She hesitantly but courageously walks into my arms. I engulf her warmly and tightly before leaning in and whispering into her ear;

"You are pretty and you will make a good presenter one day. You are skilled at it."

"Thank you," she appreciates in a whisper. "I'll see you when you see me."

"Definitely," I mumble, embracing her one more time.

"We better see you," Kel says out of nowhere, shamelessly interrupting us.

"You will," Tamia says. Kel hugs her before she proceeds to the bus.

"I don't understand how such a confident girl is at the same time reserved," I tell Kel. "Then again, I've realized that she is not so reserved. She just needs a trigger or someone engaging her. She is a parrot."

"The beauty of mother nature," he mumbles absently. "But give yourself some credit for making an effort at cracking her reservation. For all we know, that girl is boy company virgin."

"She is probably a virgin too," I mumble silently.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Kel says in agreement. "Good luck with her."

"What?" I turn away from the SPG bus and stare at him.

"Let's admit it, Joe. You already like her. She fits your category. So stop using her personality and qualities against her. And stop being proud but wounded first born too. Get it started," he says.

"She told me blatantly that she comes from the village. That she grazes, goes to the farm and does carpentry too. Do you know how much it takes for a high-schooler girl to talk about their real home? Most want to fake it by saying they are urban kids."

"You got yourself a real one, bro. It's for you to decide whether she is too village-like for your urban self or she is worth giving a chance."

The fact that she comes from the village shouldn't hinder me from seeing her as a person. Using her background as an excuse would be such a pussy move.

"However, remember that in this life, nobody is as lucky as you. Some are their own luck. She might be her luck. She might as well be the hope her family relies on. So, don't blame her for being reserved. After all, that is one of the best ways to protect her from ruin. Nobody will want her when she acts too reserved and she sure doesn't look like she would want anybody getting in her way. She has determination in her eyes. Don't be a dick to ruin it. That's assuming you are going to fool around with her," Kel adds.

He repeats the same words she said. She is her family's hope. A hope I stubbornly feel like destroying. Kel is right, I already like her. She is also my type. I've always wanted to have a miss independent so that I can abuse her pride, power and control, crush it and then turn her into my baby girl.

Also, take the responsibility off her shoulders and help her explore life freely without the burden of said responsibility. I believe in the wake of our responsibilities, we barely allow ourselves luxuries.

Especially if that responsibility is too huge like Tamia's. Being her family's hope is a huge responsibility. I suspect that sometimes it weighs her down. I would tell her not to worry if I was going to help her. But right now, I will tell her to worry because she is in trouble with me.