You felt his lips slip off and you opened your eyes. Your mouth was still pouted but when you noticed he was done, you adjusted. Why would he stop? To confess, it wasn't all-that as you had expected.

“Now, you can rule it out of your list.”

He pillared his both hand backwards and supported his body as he looked at the star, apparently unhappy. His demeanor said so.

“Is my mouth smelling?” You asked.

He chuckled “What?” his gaze brushed from the stars to you. “What are you saying?”

“You don't want to kiss me.”

“It is not that, trust me.” If he didn't continue, the silence would have stretched awkwardly. He added after few seconds, “When I saw you, I was happy that someone—anyone—was walking to me. And I was happy when I saw it was you; someone I recognize. And after all that happened: chasing me around this park,” He swirled his hand in the air, “And...and kissing me was meant to jolt me out of my bad mood, it usually does, but it didn't. I guess I am just too sad.”

“Maybe, it is me,” You said, “I don't just have the right energy.”

“No, not that, you just caught me in the wrong time.”

“Do you have an erection?”

“Ehh?” He sat upright.

Manda had many popular theories, in one she stated that boys are animals, that they are always in the mood. But It was more than that—Manda's theory— you really wanted to know.

“I am sure you head me.”

“yes, I did,” he made a funny expression that seemed forced. “It just seems strange that you are asking.”

“Just tell me." He probably saw in your expression that you meant it. He didn't need to reach down to know, but he did. He shook his head.

“Are you alright dow —”

“Of course!” he was quick to defend his manhood but had nothing else to say. His gaze was on his crouch.

“So, it is me then.” You laid back, felt the cool of the sand beneath, and looked at the star dotted sky. You closed your eyes and opened them.

“No, It is me.” He held your wrist and you almost whipped his hand off, but did not. Could not. “I am sorry. You just caught me in the wrong time.” He laid beside you. “You know, they say the stars—”

“Mba oh!” Your hand left his grip and clapped the other.

“Why no? you don't want to hear about the stars?”

“I don't want to hear what they say about the stars.”

“Okay,” He adjusted closer that your arms brushed. His fingers grazed your finger but you kept yours glued to your side. “What do you think about the stars?” He asked.

You focused on the fleet of stars but later broke the silence. “Did you notice that there was no star throughout this week?” Of course, you were one to notice such.

“No... I didn't... I rarely acknowledge them.”

I rarely acknowledge them. You inwardly iterated. You turned to your side so you could look at him.

“My mum used to say...”

“May her soul rest in peace.” He interrupted.

“And the soul of Mr Richard rest in peace.”

The silence that followed was for Mum and his Dad. “Amen. However, she used to tell me that negative energies were effused through tears. We tend to feel better after we have really cried. I think you should, maybe you will feel better if you cry. I can see that you want to.”

Another silence of deep gaze.  “She changed,” He said, “She never used to be like this. After my father died everything changed. Everything. She started drinking, using pain killers and whoring about. I just want to make enough money and leave the house.”

“You will have to wait until we get out of school.”

He chuckled, pain sewn in it. “I can't. How old did you turn yesterday?”

“Eighteen.” You lied, and couldn't fantom why you did so. Sweet seventeen. If there was a thing as such.

You remained quiet since he was also silent and focused on the stars. With his intense gaze at the stars, you thought he read an encrypted message in them. It was a beautiful view. Something you could raise your hands for.

“Everything would be alright.” You felt his hand snooping for yours and when he found it, you allowed him to entwine them. The silence of the estate during the day was equivalent to that of a graveyard and at night, it was similar to the silence in a coffin buried in that graveyard. As you stared at the beauty of the stars, tears welled your eyes and dripped sideways. After an hour of effusing bad energy you said, “We should head back.” You wrapped your arms around your body “The air is getting cold.”

“Okay.” He said, motionless, eyes still fixed on the sky.

you stood up and extended a hand to assist him up. He grabbed it and his weight pulled you to the ground instead. You laid on top him. You both laughed and laughed. The laughter died down and what seemed right was to stare into his eyes. You wanted to kiss but didn't since he wasn't in the mood. Manda said that boys don't understand emotions. Crying on your shoulder doesn't mean I want to be filled up. Her words.

On the stroll—One which was done sluggishly— You thought about the kiss and tried to visualize the stars or sparks that was supposed to explode, as people claimed when they first kissed. But so far, the sparks were yet to ignite. He strode silently with his hands in his pocket and looked mostly at the stars in the horizon. But few times his gazed brushed to you. He started humming African queen by 2face and after a while, the melodious harmony gripped you and you inadvertently joined in. You are my African queen, the girl of my dreams...

John crossed over his house and you moved to yours aligned opposite. you could tell—because his gate had not squeaked — that he hadn't entered inside. He probably saw that you unsuccessfully turn the knob to the door. It was locked, you knew. You were not even supposed to be there. What happened to the sleepover with Manda? Dad would ask.

You craned and truly, he stood directly under a street lamp by the entrance. You moved to him.

“Stop smiling, this is not funny.”

“How did you even leave the house?”

“Long story,” you said, and placed a some mystery on it.

His eyebrows flew up and crinkles formed on his forehead. “What is long about it?”

“I sneaked out.”

A smile appeared on his face and his thoughts betrayed his demeanour. You could tell what went through his head. I might not even know Anita after all. “This new age must have really, really shocked you.  your dad be angry?” he was whispering, you were both whipering.

“I guess.”

“You sneaked out for me?” The surprise was evident on his face.

He didn't know the things that went through your head. You could myatha for him.

“You can stay in my room.” He turned back and pushed the small gate and it squeaked.

You staggered, but he already turned, stealthly striding around the house to the back door. Most of the lights in the upper deck of the house were turned off but the living room's light was on. The tall window also had thick curtains blinded view. The lawn was replaced with interlock. The cross atop Mr Dike's grave finely silhouetted by the side. He did not see that his statement put you off balance.

“Eh.. I was... I will call...”

He probably didn't hear you. He beckoned you to follow him. You stealthly hurried to meet him. When you got closer he said, “Trust me, it is fine. I am honoured.”

The interlock stretched as wide as the gate encompassed. Beyond that, the grass continued until it met the wall that housed the estate. You bent under clothes hung on wires. At the door he retrieved a single key from his pocket and opened the door to view the a room filled with boxes. Some of the boxes were covered with a white cloth. He crossed his lips with a finger before gesturing inside. You had to be stealth, that is.

Train of thoughts; negative ones, swirled in your head, mixing themselves. There were some that had to do with Dad but the one that formed to words were “What about your mom?” If anything, you wanted to stay away from crazy.

He slid a finger across his neck and you immediately knew what it meant. Your heart quickened and you took steps back. “She is dead?”

“No, knocked off. Drunk.” He whispered. His hand still gestured inside.

You simply nodded. His boot clunked lightly as he guided you past that room and broke out to a gym. The door exiting the the gym opened noiselessly. A hallway.  He removed his shoes and held in his hand. You copied, and removed your army crooks. The hallway wasn't short but it was long either. You reach the end and simply pushed into the last door.

His walls were free from posters, and from the pale light cutting through the window, you made out that the bed was half made. There was no couch, save the one filled with clothes. The room had a strong presence of him. He sat on the bed, took about two minutes untying and removing his boots before lying flat on his back. The fan whirled slowly.

“Turn on the light.”

“My bulb is bad, except you want me to take the one in the toilet, and i would need screw for it. Or, ” He hopped off the bed and opened the toilet door and flicked the light on. The light spilled through and casted the frame of the door on the tiles.

You still stood by the door, unsure of your next move.

He moved to the bed and sat. “Are you going to stand there? Come...” He roughly extended the bed sheet to cover everywhere. “You will sleep here and I will stay on this side. You don't expect me to sleep somewhere else..”

“No, It is fine...” You moved and perched on the edge of your side. He grabbed the only pillow. “There is only one pillow. And my neck...”

“It is fine, I don't use pillows.”

“We could share,” he extended the pillow forward.

“No, it is fine. I don't use pillows.”

He looked at you funny and smirked. “That is new to me.” he entered under the cover and backed you. “Who does not use pillows?”

You took a deep breath to quell the voice that bugged inwardly. The voice told you to run. You sat on the edge, on edge, and wished he had a poster you could at least fix your eyes on. The fact that you had to be looking at something now was tiring.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he pulled himself up and prop on the head of bed. words were about to rumble out, but he beat you to it. “How come someone you claim you love makes you this uncomfortable?”

“I am not...I am still in shock of being in your room. I am not uncomfortable. Okay, maybe a little. I just never expected it to get this far today. I am not sure I want to be here.”

“How far?” a raised brow. “I am only being kind. Should I have left you to stand in the cold?”

Nothing to say.

“You will have to lie well before I hear anything you want to say though.” He smirked.

You looked at your side of the bed; the bedsheet was not tucked. You pushed yourself up to prop on the head of bed too. You almost fell off the bed, still the space between was not enough. Meanwhile, in your head you both cuddled, twirling like chocolate and cream.

“Good. What did you want to ask me?”

You wanted to ask him for the other things Manda mentioned beside kissing. But you wanted to know some basic things first.

“Will you talk to me in school tomorrow?”

He raised that same brow. “When we first moved here, I tried to be your friend but you were invisible.”

He didn't answer the question. You asked him again.

“Of course, I will talk to you. That is if you will be available to be spoken to. Where do you always wander to?”

“I have a sanctuary.”

Before then, his gaze was on the boots lined on the wall. He looked at you. “A sanctuary?” amazement ran across his face. “Where is that?”

“At the edge of the kindergarten library, obscured from the world by towering shelves.”

He was smiling. “Why do you have to isolate yourself that way?”

“It is my character.”

“I bet if you conversed with people often, a lot of things would change.”

“I know people think I am stupid.”

“They don't.” His tone and expression betrayed his words. He probably had been in a circle of friends calling you stupid. And only felt uncomfortable because he was your neighbour. Or not. Maybe, he laughed too, and threw in some jokes.

“They do. I know they do. It is my character's fault, but I understand now. And working on it.”

“Clearly.” He gestured to show that you were in his room, on his bed. You had inadvertently comforted your both cheeks on the bed.

You both laughed.

“Should I tell you a secret?” He said.

You nodded

“I am shy right now. If not for anything, for the fact that you are in my room. I can't even believe you are here. I would have gone all-in with such odds.”

You smiled. “I have a secret too.”

He nodded. “Spill.”

“My room is as scattered as yours.” which was a lie.

Another string of laughter rang out. When it died down, your gaze locked and you could feel sparks, muted fireworks overhead. He licked his dark lips. Like magnet, your heads drew together and when nose touched, a voice bellowed, from its tone, not very far from the door.

“John! Have you come back!?”

You jolted. It was late to make any sort of plans. You transferred to the floor and rolled under the bed. You didn't need to hear the voice again to know who it was.

“Where is that stupid boy!” The door was locked so bangs followed.

“Don't break my door oo!” you felt his weight rise from the bed. You saw his legs move to the door. Two soft clicks and the door swung open. The legs that came to view wore no slippers.

“So you this boy, you are back eh?”

“Mama please...”

“Don't mama please me. You are stupid. Olodo. I remained food for you... Better don't finish my rice.” the legs walked out and he banged the door.

Only now did you notice the magazine and Vaseline at your feet. You closed your eyes, and fought your mind from pondering the contents of the magazine. It was too late.

“She is gone.”  he didn't bend into view. You thought he would.

Mrs Metuonu Terrifies you. This would had been the opposite of how Mom would call you down for dinner. The way she put it; I remained, they don't eat as a family.