The house was quiet when Ndidi entered. No doubt Sifon had gone to bed. She slipped out of her sweater, hung it in the front closet, and made her way to her bedroom. It was a two-bedroom apartment made for students. Ndidi had her own room with a bathroom, while Sifon had hers too. But they walked into each other’s room whenever they wanted.
She had just returned from the midnight study class, and was already exhausted and feeling sleepy when she heard loud moaning sounds from Sifon’s bedroom. She was at it again, having sex with random school boys and getting infected with diseases that had no names.
She opened her mini refrigerator and took a bottle of coke from it. She opened it and began to sip it slowly. It was almost 6a.m and she didn’t want to miss her 7a.m lectures at the main campus.
So caught up was she in pondering the answers to her questions.
Why was Sifon always having numerous boyfriends, yet, complained of heartbreak almost weekly?
They’d been roommates for almost two years, and she was already tired of Sifon’s complaints about boys and men. She never talked about her lecturers nor her courses. It was always men and party. She was becoming a nuisance to Ndidi, yet her gentle and introvert nature wouldn’t let her speak out her mind.
She wanted to continue reading from her room, but the loud sexual noise from Sifon’s bedroom disturbed her. It was part of the reasons she was accustomed to going for midnight study classes.
“Oh baby, give it to me my boo,” Sifon screamed erotically from her room.
Though her bedroom lights were off, Ndidi could tell it was a married man this time. The masculine voice that was panting was too bold to be just a boy. All sorts of scenarios raced through her mind. She didn’t understand why anyone would be that lousy, but Sifon was her roommate and best friend, and she had to be tolerant of some of her attitudes.
Most times, Ndidi lay utterly still, afraid to breathe. In her most daring fantasies, she had wondered what it felt like to have a man kiss her or make love to her. To lay hip to hip, thigh to thigh, her tender breast crushed against brawny chest, his face nuzzled in her freshly washed long hair.
She smiled to herself, unable to resist thinking of everything that had to do with sex that she never experienced. Her mother always told her never to let a man touch her body for any reason, until he was ready to marry her. She was the only daughter of a wealthy widowed mother. She was used to having anything she wanted at anytime she wanted it. Yet, she wasn’t proud, unlike Sifon who didn’t have half of what she had, yet she’d already titled herself queen of beauty and money in her department.
Ndidi was a level two hundred medical student, brilliant and ambitious, yet, boys wouldn’t stop staring at her beautiful face and slim fit body. She was beautiful in all its ramifications, and everyone wanted to be her friend. She took herself out from the crowd of girls who wore designer wears and had fancy shoes and bags to be on her own. Her roommate was enough trouble of a human to be associated with, so she didn’t need further drama in her life. And at the end of it, she was being tagged as being snobbish and proud. But Sifon always defended her friend;
“That’s her nature. She isn’t proud,” Sifon would say, each time other girls talked down at Ndidi.
Ndidi had over a hundred shoes, designer bags and perfumes. Her mother shopped them anytime she was out of the country. And even though Ndidi had numerous virgin hairs, sent by aunty from Malaysia, she still wore her eighteen inches natural hair to school on a daily basis. And the question, ‘Is this your hair?’ was always answered at every single minute in school.
“It’s only runs girls that carry iPhones in this campus. I don’t know why you have all the gadgets, yet, you will lie that you don’t have any man friend that touches this your small breast,” Sifon would say.
“It’s my mother that bought them for me,” Ndidi would reply innocently.
“Every time your mother bought this and that for you, keep lying o,” Sifon would retort.
She hadn’t closed her eyes up to fifteen minutes when Sifon knocked on her room door.
“Roomy, wake up it’s 6:46.”
Ndidi’s eyes popped open. She jumped up from her bed.
“When did you come back from night class?” Sifon asked.
“Few hours ago,” Ndidi said.
“And you still want to attend Mr Sade’s class this morning?” Sifon asked in amazement.
Ndidi ignored her. She knew where the argument will end if she started reminding her that she had over seven carry overs the previous semester and that if she doesn’t study hard, she might be given involuntary withdrawal.
Next Chapter: |Chapter 2|
|Chapter 1||Chapter 2||Chapter 3||Chapter 4||Chapter 5||Chapter 6||Chapter 7||Chapter 8||Chapter 9||Chapter 10||Chapter 11||Chapter 12||Chapter 13||Chapter 14||Chapter 15||Chapter 16||Chapter 17||Chapter 18|