For ‘Quayya

She was out there, beautiful as ever.  The sun reflected off her short silky hair, and glowed off her dark smooth skin. I bent my head and wiped the counter because no one wants to see a boy smiling creepily at a girl standing 10 meters away through a glass window.

What is she even doing here? she’s supposed to be in Ibadan.

The car door slam shut and I looked at the clock, my shift was to end in a couple of minutes. Shrill Laughter floated in from outside and I looked at her, she was on the phone with someone. My gaze went to the clock and no one was coming in to get coffee, so I hung my apron and flew out the door.

She was walking with a paper cup towards me, but not looking and she slammed right into me, the liquid,  thankfully water, spilled all over my shirt.

She gasped and reached in her purse for a napkin. “I am. So sorry.”

I smiled, her voice echoed in my mind “It’s alright. It’s just water”

She looked up, her eyes widening as she took me in. “Oh my fucking goodness, John Archibald. It’s really you!”

She launched into my arms paying no mind to the wet spot on my chest, she pulled back to look at me and hugged me again, and then we did that awkward hug side to side motion.

“You just forgot all about me o!!” she said, laughing.” No ccalls in three years. ah haba!!”

“Ah ahn, it’s not like that, Ruquayya, usually when one asks her ex boyfriend to send her stuff from their apartment, it means that you no longer want to talk to them.”

She giggled shyly and tucked her hair behind her pierced eyes and I absently noticed she wasn’t wearing my ring. My heart fell but I kept my chin up.

“I don’t want to be too forward but what happened to us?” I asked again.

“I really don’t know, John,  I think our love wasn’t ready for us in that time frame.” She said quietly, looking anywhere but at my face.

I understood. I would be content with just being her friend.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, forcing amusement into my tone.

“Actually I-” her phone rang, cutting me off. I nodded and she picked the call “Oh hi…yeah floral would  be great…nothing that would block the aisle..The cake has been booked…” She walked away from me.

She was getting married. Damn, I’m too late.

She walked back to me and bent to pick up the discarded paper cup and her necklace swung out from her top and my ring was the pendant. It warmed my heart and a smile lit up my face.

“What?” She asked,

“Wedding plans” I smiled back.

“Yes! that’s true, my brother is getting married next week and both of them are still unsure, so I’m taking it by the reins.” She laughed.

“Determined control freak Ru” I chuckled

“will you be free next weekend? I need a date for the wedding.”

I mentally cleared my weekend plans “yeah sure, I mean my friends would be pissed that I’m cancelling on them. But I still love you, Ru. So I’ll do anything to win you back”

She gave me a watery smile and leaned in for a hug.

“You have friends?” She asked, her voice muffled by my chest.”what happened to loner John?”

“He died when you loved me.” I said softly into her hair “I mean what I said. I still love you,Ru.”

“I still love you, John,  I should’ve never left.”

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One thought on “For ‘Quayya

  1. Hey Hilly, I run a site called http://www.blankpaperz.com
    We are always on the look out for young African writers like yourself to promote their works. If it pleases you, you could send in some of your short stories and we’d put them on Blankpaperz, linking them back to your website of course.

    Nice stories! I see you’re doing well. Especially Sirens. Keep it up.

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