As you exited the house, your phone rang and the door closed behind you. George. You picked.

“Hello,”

“What's up?” George said.

“Nothing... What about you?”

“I am driving into the estate.”

“Now?”

“I want to see Manda. I bought her something.”

“Driving? To see Manda?”

“Yea, my mum is not around. Using her car.”

“Okay...” You curiously stretched it.

“I just wanted to tell you?"

“At least i will see the gift.”

“How?”

“Going to Manda's house.”

“No, don't be there and make things awkward.”

“George, I was already going there.”

He didn't reply and his distant voice seemed to be replying the security at the gate. “Yes, I am on the list. Thank you.” His voice came back strong, “Since when did you start meeting Manda? Just keep off. Please...”

He hung up.

The night was not dense and you could see the colours of the neighboring houses, except those down the street that remained a silhouette. John's house was the only house with a gate. The gate was short and did nothing to preserve privacy.

You stood before Manda's house, knuckles above door, pondering whether to knock or not. The porch light kept you on spot. You decided not and stepped down the short stairs to the aisle between a lawn. The aisle was hedged with purple hibiscus.

You were stuck, unsure of your next action, and as you pondered the next possible action of which going back home weighed more, you jolted in response to the loud bang that echoed. You ducked beside the purple hibiscus.

Apparently, John just emerged from his front door, and the sound, amid jerking you, prompted the neighbor's room light to flick on, and curtains to shift aside with curious eyes peering. Mrs Metuonu's voice followed after him, audible from where ever she was. “And don't come back to this house! spoilt child!” Then a door inside banged.

John had a black hood over his head. His both hands were buried in his pocket and his legs moved briskly, almost running. Scratch that, he started running and shouting. As he ran through, lights turned on in the flanking houses and silhouettes peeped through curtains.

You watched him until he arrived the junction ahead and turned right. That way led towards the recreational centre. At the far end of the street, you saw a headlight creeping up. You followed John.

The recreational centre was barricaded by a short fence that could be sat on.

Apart from the dim bulbs mounted on short poles that were lined intermittently, and the moon above, nothing else emitted light in the centre. The seesaw, slides, and Merry Go Round were silhouetted. But as your eyes roamed about, you saw that a figure sat on a swing, and a phone in use emitted light too.

The entrance into the centre was locked. You hopped over the short fence and your legs sank into the beach-like sand.

Your knees felt like they would yield as you strode toward the figure on the swing. You knew it was John. His gaze rose to you and your pulse added speed. You miss-stepped and kicked your heel and crashed to the soft sand. You would stand sooner or later but before you chose the latter, you wondered why he didn't stand to help you up. A gentleman was supposed to. Maybe, he was the type of boy that would cut one's heart for soup.

With little to no casualty with the impact on the soft sand, you rose to your feet. His gaze remained on you. You saw that Mickey Mouse was drawn on the front of his hoodie. His phone flash came on and he pointed it at you and your hands flew up to shield your face. “Isn't it bright enough to know who I am?”

The flash went off, “Sorry, I wanted to be sure it was really you coming here.” His voice was not as it used to be. You didn't blame him. Yours would have been worse.

You swore words came to you, but your mouth didn't move, you just stood there twirling your right foot in the sand.

“Did your dad travel or something? What are you doing out here?” he tapped his G-shock and the led came on. “By 9:14 P.M.” His gaze returned to you and his silence meant he expected you to say something.

“Hello,” you said.

“Oh, we are being so formal. Hi, how are you doing? What is that?” He stood up and shook you and sat back. “Wow, you look completely different.” His eyes were red. “The next seat is open,” He gestured to the swing beside his and you perched on it. You kept your hands on your thighs and didn't hold the chains as he did. Neither did you gently rock like he did.

“Anita, you look different. Black looks good on you.” The short poles emitted dim light, but bright enough to see your face. To see the black lipstick at least. “What are you doing here?”

You remained silent.

“Okay, you not talking. Why do you act the way you do? I don't want to call it weird but...”

“But you just did.”

“Tell—”

“I like you.” Boom! As George had done his. At least, you didn't vomit on the sand.

He Chuckled and you expected him to say, I get that a lot. But he completely ignored you and said, “I hate her, you know.”

You knew who her was. What is actually the problem with both of you? Were the words that came to your head but your mouth could not form as words. Why was he ignoring you?

“Every morning I wake up, my heart congeals with anger. Only the thought of seeing her is enough to rattle my mood for a week.

And the thing is that the neighbors don't talk. They hear it all, but like snails, they have retrieved into themselves in a bid to emulate the western suburbs.”

“What is actually the problem with you two?”

He caught your gaze and held it. For the first time, since the first day you saw him, your gaze locked with his glassy eyes. They were red like they recently effused tears. You broke out to look at your fingers wiring into each other. He rocked the swing harder, but not enough to take a flight.

“She is a whore. She sleeps around. So many other things. She is a drunk!”

You remembered her welcoming Mr Bright with a kiss at the front door.

“I bet she has slept with all the men in this estate.”

Including Dad? you thought. “Not all the men.” You defended.

He looked at you but your gaze was on your feet. He laughed—a knowing laugh. “Why do you like me?”

Your priorities were put to test. Knowledge of Dad or giving reasons why you liked him.

“Do they...uh...does my dad and your mom...”

He laughed. “I don't know.”

There was silence and he focused on you but your gaze remained on your feet. You tried to burry it under the sand.

“What do you like about me?”

From the first day he and his dad knocked on the door and you saw his afro, and the wrapped gift in his hand, your heart leapt in a way it had not done before. The new neighbor was cute!

“Your new look is fine. But I preferred the afro.”

“What new look?”

“Your low cut.”

“I have cut my hair two months now and counting.”

He laughed again. You could feel the gratitude echo in it. He was grateful he had someone to talk to.

“So it is only my low cut you like about me?”

“No,” If only one could explain certain emotion. “It is not that. I like you...” liked how he smiles around his friends. He was the goofy one. The type to cause laughter erupt in between a class.    (That mostly happened when Manda was prefect.)

“Well, Anita, I like you too.”

Then he stood up and packed a handful of sand and poured it on you. His body language said he was ready to run if you decided to retaliate. You were supposed to give chase, but you remained glued to the swing.

“Are you also boring.”

“I am not!” You defended.

“Then pack a handful and make sure you pour it on me.”

It was an age of trying new things. You grabbed a handful of sand and before you could stand erect, he threw another fistful on your hair. You chased him around a merry-go-round then around the statue of Mr Promise, the funder of the park. You finally hurled the sand towards him and a good portion of it landed on his neck.

You turned around and zapped while he picked sand and gave chase.

John ran tracks, played football and basketball. He was in the drama club and was always bestow the position of class prefect in any form. There was never an election until Manda entered the school. And the first time she contested, she won. Anyway, John was every girl's dream. If a group of girls stood in a circle, his name would slipped from their mouths like mantra.

In no time, you felt the weight of sand around your waist. The impact was hard and painful. He probably didn't intend to throw it that hard. You stumbled to the white sand.

“Oh, sorry!” I didn't mean to...” As you pretended to be hurt, you waited until he was close enough before hurling sand directly on his face. Totally off guard. You saw that it entered his eyes, mouth, eyes, ears, and hoodie. He spat out, dusting his face.

You were laughing, he was laughing, the moon bore witness and the gentle breeze told silent stories. He removed his hoodie to dust the ones that entered his body and you looked away.

It was time, intuition told you. He did say he liked you. After a while, with your gaze still south, you said: “I want to kiss you.” Your heart ache and his probably did too.

He paused and you felt his gaze eat on you.

“Won't it score Panda's theory if I just kiss you? Did she send you?”

Panda? “Who? Manda?”

“Yea, did Panda send you?”

“No. No. She didn't!” Your gaze moved to him. Thanks to the night, his eyes were shaded.

“You know, I saw you guys yesterday. And I was wondering what she was doing with you.”

“She is my cousin.”

“We know.”

“Who is we?”

“Everybody. And people mostly wonder why you guys are so different, given that you are neighbors and as sexy, if not sexier than she is.”

You stopped breathing. He called you sexy.

“How did you see us?”

“Through the curtains. They were not drawn. I also saw that weird guy... What is his name..” He craned thoughtfully, tapping on his temple.

“George?”

“Yea, he had a bottle of red label in his hand. I didn't believe my eyes. What was happening?”

“It was my birthday.”

“Really? And you didn't invite me, I thought you liked me.”

“I do, it is just that I couldn't talk to you then.”

“Which brings me back to the speculation of this being some truth or dare game. Did you drink yesterday?”

You nodded “And smoked cigarette and weed today.”

“Eh?” His brows flew up.

“I wrote a list of things I will try today for the very first time.”

His eyes were still wide from the news. “Is my name anyhow mentioned on this list.”

You nodded. He lowered to the ground, leaving an intimate but comfortable distance. “This is interesting.”

“And that is why I am here, to tell you how I feel about you.”

He was speechless. You thought when his mouth opened to speak, he would give reasons why you shouldn't like him but, instead, he spread his arm and invited you for a hug. “Come here.”

It wasn't too tight to called a bear hug neither was it loose. Your hormones pricked, spreading to the right places.

“So... do you like me too?”

He released the hug enough to look at your face. “Do you like or love me?”

“Lik..love. I love you.”

His hands caressed yours as he spoke. “I want this story to be a very good one. I like you... I like everyone, but for me to develop the type of feeling you have, it would take a while.” He added, “You don't even come close to be noticed.”

“Would you at least kiss me, so I can rule it out my list.”

He chuckled. “This your new age must have really shocked you... a lot.”

Your needs betrayed you and printed on your face. It wasn't about the list anymore, you really wanted to kiss John. And the more you thought about it, you knew it would happen. The more he looked into your eyes, caving into the present mood, you knew it would happen. But he wasn't making the move, so you made the move because you wanted it to happen.

He broke out and said, “let me teach you. you don't have to suck both lips. Yea. Then a little tongue. Hey! Don't stick it all the way down.” You giggled. “Yes, like that...” he muffled in between tongue dipping. Like that.