Emeka, …

You proceeded towards the bus stop in silence – you did not know how to ask for her number. The fact that you had just helped her made requesting difficult for you – you did not want her feeling you helped her only because you were interested in her.

‘Am I going to let her off again without getting her digits? God! Hassan will make fun of me if he ever gets to know of my helplessness,’ you feared.

“I didn’t get to say ‘thank you’ to her. She is very nice,” Grace expressed her regret, breaking the silence.

“Indeed, she is,” you replied absent-mindedly.

“What’s her name, by the way?” she asked.

“Her name is Folake,” you revealed.

“Please give me her number so I can say ‘thank you’ later in the day,”

“There’s no need for that,” you replied jealously, your brows creasing into a frown.

‘How would she ask for Folake’s number before mine?’ you wondered.

“You don’t have to be possessive. I am straight, so I am not a threat,” Grace joked.

“What does that mean?” you asked, confused.

You did not wait for her to reply before picking up your speech.

“Wait, don’t tell me you,”

Your voice trailed off.

“There’s nothing like that between us. Ew! Folake is my cousin – an older one at that,” you explained calmly.

Grace burst into laughter.

“Sorry, I was just joking. There’s no need to get worked up. Muslims marry their cousins, by the way,” she hit you slightly on the shoulder.

“Well, I am not a Muslim,” you retorted.

“Noted. Can I have Folake’s number now?” Grace asked.

“Sure,” you swiped open your phone and handed it over.

“That’s her number,” you offered.

“Thank you,” Grace returned the phone after copying the number and saving it on her device.

Meanwhile, you had arrived at the bus stop, and one of the buses had a few seats unoccupied.

“I better hurry, or I’d have to wait for the next bus,” she thought aloud.


“I can’t thank you enough, Emeka. May God bless you immensely,” she expressed her appreciation.

“I guess your number will be just fine,” you winked at her.

“Trust me, Emeka, you do not need my number,” she reciprocated the wink and turned towards the bus.

“God! Are you serious?” you called after her retreating figure. You couldn’t fathom what you heard.

“Hasta luego!” she called back, waving at you without turning.

“What’s that?”

“See you later in Spanish,” she replied amidst mouthfuls of laughter.

Grace’s reaction bemused you – you thought she liked you, but after she refused to give you her number, you were not so sure that she did. You could not help watching the bus zoom out of sight with Grace waving you ‘bye’, wearing an endearingly infectious, albeit mischievous smile over her face.

‘Emeka, see your life outside,’ you berated yourself.

‘I should have just kept quiet about the number. Now I do not know what she thinks of me,’ you whined.

to be continued…


Why do you think Grace refused to share her number with Emeka?


Do you think he deserves it?


What else do you think?


The comment section is all yours; let us read all of your thoughts!


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P.S: This work is purely fictional. Any semblance to actual persons (living or late), places, or events are merely figments of the writer’s attempt at keeping in touch with reality.


✌🏾 Пoka!

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