One thing that I hadn't anticipated when I'd agreed to go shopping with Desta, is that he'd insist on spending his money on me.
Right now, we're in Bookland, on Knutsford Boulevard, and he insists on paying for the "Complete Works of William Shakespeare" that I just picked up.
"It's mine. I'll pay for it."
"Let me at least get you one thing. As a graduation present."
"Fine."
As we're driving, I expect him to pass Bijoux Jewellers, but he doesn't. Instead, he fucking pulls up and parks as if I gave him permission to.
"Come," he says as he exits the car.
Once inside of the store, I begin to shit my pants. I seem to be doing a lot of that these days. Pants shitting, I mean. Panty shitting, too. Just shitting myself in general. All because of fucking Desta.
Why would he possibly want to be here?
Okay. He has no mother. He didn't mention a girlfriend. He doesn't seem like the type to wear jewelry — except for in his dick.
His father seemed to be more into stuff like beads and shells — no metal.
Maybe it's for his brother.
Please be for his brother.
He glances at the Pandora bracelet on my left hand, which I swiftly tuck behind my back. He then looks at the case of Pandora charms.
Fuck.
"Ezinma, which one of these do you prefer?"
"You said one thing." Even to my own ears, I sound conflicted; I love jewelry, but shit, what if he thinks I'm a gold digger?
"I lied. Isn't that what we do? Men, I mean. We lie."
"Et tu, Desta?" I mutter under my breath, but the way he arches his eyebrow at me tells me he hears it.
He looks at me thoughtfully, then turns to the case. He points at one, and asks the saleswoman to take it out.
"What's this one called?"
"That's 'The World's a Stage'."
"Ezinma, do you like this one?"
I turn to see what he has in his hand and he hands it to me.
I gasp when I realise what it is.
On one side is "Thalia", the Greek muse of comedy, and on the other side is "Melpomene", the Greek muse of tragedy. It even has a quote from Hamlet, "to be or not to be", inscribed on top of it.
"I figured, since you're a Drama major, and you're graduating with a degree in Drama, and you're even quoting Shakespeare to me with my name... This would be perfect."
"It is perfect. Thank you." And I'm not just thanking him for the act of buying a piece of metal for me. It's the amount of thought he put into it. What he just said to me makes me realise that he actually does pay attention to me, and my mediocre life. I knew this from the first date in Port Royal, but for some reason it never really hit me, until now.
"You're welcome, babe."
***
Movies at Carib are always a beautiful experience for me. Firstly, the theatres are much, much bigger than those at Sovereign Centre. And bigger theatres mean bigger screens.
Secondly, the crowd at Carib always provides your own personal commentary. I remember, while watching a movie as a child in one of the theatres at Carib, the people in the row behind me got into a fight as to whether the protagonist was a manwhore or not.
Naturally, this movie is no different.
Throughout the whole movie, people are screaming, booing (the police), shouting "Fuck the police!" and singing along to Dr Dre's and Tupac's music.
The vibe is amazing.
For the whole movie, Desta and I hold each other's hands, even through the credits. By the time the curtains pull and the ushers come to chase us from the theatre, my head is on his shoulder.
"I liked the movie."
"Me too." He says as he strokes his thumb over the back of my hand. "Come. We have to go."
He drives me home in silence, and I can tell that he is thinking about something. When he pulls up in front of my house, he cuts the ignition of the car, and turns to look at me.
"What are you doing to me?"
Before I can answer, his lips cover mine, but instead of a rough, lust filled tango, it's soft, slow, sensual and sweet.
It's almost as if our mouths are making love to each other.
And it scares me. I know should probably fight it.
But you don't want to.
When we finish kissing, he leans back and looks at me.
"What are we, Ezinma?"
"I... I don't know."
He looks down, biting his lip and fiddling with the end of one of his locks for a few seconds. When he looks back at me, his eyes are hardened in determination.
"Boyfriend. I...want to be your boyfriend."
I'm stunned. This god, this Adonis-with-a-big-dick wants me to be his Aphrodite?
He's a beautiful person on the inside too, you shallow piece of shit.
"Yes. Yes, Desta. I'll be your girlfriend."
He gives me a breathtaking smile; one that's full of joy and relief; the kind of smile you give to a family member coming home from war, alive and well, with all their limbs intact.
A big, beautiful smile.
Then, he kisses me again — another sweet, breathtaking kiss — then bids me goodbye, and watches me go inside before driving off.
***
Once in bed, I think of how much my life has changed since I met Desta. I've never even had an official boyfriend before. What if I fuck us up? I always fuck things up.
He's so... beautiful. I've never met anyone like him.
He's charming. He doesn't look at me like I'm a creep when I have verbal diarrhea. He actually laughs at his dad's embarrassing stories. He can become so dominant, and when he does, it's so god damn sexy, but he can also be sweet and gentle.
As I fall asleep, one thing becomes very clear to me; I feel much more than mere attraction for Desta Hasani Simba.
