I really didn’t know what title to give this post, so after reading it, please suggest a suitable title. Thanks :)
I met Larry Akindele on my first day in College. He was a freshman too. I’d been running around, trying to sort out my registration and accommodation before nightfall when somehow our eyes met. I immediately knew we were going to be tight friends.
He was wearing dark blue jeans with a cream-colored polo shirt. He looked effortlessly handsome, like your regular boy next door; complete with large brown eyes, thick, long lashes and a sensual mouth #no homo. Not homophobic either. I expected he’d be a Casanova. He was toffee-complexioned, tall, and had the body of someone who never missed a work-out session. He looked like a rich kid, dressed like a rich kid, and even had the kind of aura I suppose rich kids have. Some people really do have it all, don’t they? I’m not so lucky. I mean, ok…I’m not poverty-stricken or anything and I know I’m definitely not ugly because I’ve been hit on a few times by girls and maybe a couple of times by guys, but this guy was something else. Girls would positively drool over him. Worship the Adonis!
Really, I mean it when I say”no homo”. It’s just that I’ve always been interested in even the tiniest details. I love to observe and learn about people and things. I think it’s pretty cool because when I was eight years old, I helped the police catch a man who was trying to kidnap a baby from the hospital. My dad and I had gone to see my aunt who was sick and I was told to sit in the waiting room. I’d noticed his furtive glances and took interest in him, so when I saw him leave with a baby and the police came in; I gladly described him, right down to his pimples and the keloids on the back of his head. My dad rained praises on me such that my head swelled to bursting point, and I was in the newspapers by the next day. But I digress…
Larry and I ended up walking together and complaining bitterly about the educational system and its bottlenecks. We somehow ended up being roommates and fellow students of mass communication. I could go on and on about our first meeting but suffice it to say we were best friends by the end of our first semester in college.
Larry was probably the man of every girl’s dreams. He was a total hottie, plus he had brains and spoke Queen’s English. And oh, what a body!. A girl who shook hands with him once testified that his hands were like velvet. It should be outlawed for a guy to have hands like that. They must have been perfectly capable of making any girl fantasize about silk sheets, slow music and lots of sweat.
I’d started hearing stuff about him right from our freshman year. The gist was that he was really fresh, was best friends with an almost equally hot dude called Damiete, and both of them were near whizkids. I didn’t really bother with the acquired information until I saw him in the first week of the second semester. I guess I hadn’t met him before then because our mass communication class was so large, but when I saw him, I knew I had to have him.
He was one of the most wanted dudes in school and yet, no girl had been able to snag him. I was up to the task. I was going to get him just because I could. And the additional perks… arm candy that could make any girl go green, better grades (what’s the point of having Einstein as a boo if you still flunk?) and cool cash. Yes. I found out he was filthy rich. I have my ways, you know. And besides, you really can’t hide that kinda stuff forever.
Don’t judge me! I’ve had to manage everything all my life. I’ve got all the qualities any man would ever desire, and I now intend to use that to my advantage. Girls are not smiling! You really don’t know what it means to have to attend random weddings every weekend just for a free meal or wear clothes that your friends are tired of wearing and hand down to you “because I love you”, do you? I used to do the Aristo thing once in a while, just to get new stuff, but I knew the good things of life would be coming my way on the regular as soon as I got Larry. I had a plan already. I knew I’d have the moneybag eating out of my hand in no time.
All I had to do was to get him to notice me. Everything would work out from then. Besides, getting guys to notice me had never been a problem. Haven’t you ever heard about the power of a Calabar girl? I was absotively posilutely endowed, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Larry was going to be mine…
Damiete was my first, and soon, became my best friend in college. We did almost everything together, and our room was probably the best in our hostel. I guess it was luck +faith+ fate+ a little bit of money *wink* that got us one of the three rooms in Jakande Hall that were for two occupants only. Though we were in a private university, the rooms were made for six occupants. Quite good, I guess, since in federal universities the rooms were usually like a sardine tin with up to twelve occupants in it.
Damiete and I were a great team. It was like God sent him to me as an answer to my mother’s fervent prayers for good friends for her son. My mum still thinks I’m her cute baby, and she seems so happy that I can’t bear to burst her bubble. You see, I’m not exactly a saint. I’m not exactly a sinner either. I’ve just done a few things that could make a pastor swallow hard. But hey! Don’t condemn me. Compared to other guys, I’m pretty much an angel. Anyway, I was saying Damiete and I were a great team because though both of us went club-trotting together, we were very serious when it came to our studies. We motivated each other and usually came out top of our class at the end of each semester, much to the chagrin of the “good people” who believed we didn’t deserve our grades what with our “unserious” ways.
Damiete was the only one who knew my family, who knew my dad was a very rich business man who owned more than seven major thriving companies in Lagos. I tried to live rather simply so people would not feel uncomfortable around me. Not Damiete… he was never uncomfortable around me, before or after meeting my family. Being the only child of my parents, my mother was only too happy to make Damiete her second son. His mother did the same for me and we spent holidays in each other’s homes alternately.
Soon after we became friends, he told me that his first impression of me was that I was a big-time Casanova. At least he later realized that I’m pretty much a one woman-man. I was brought up to be a gentleman, not a cad. Damiete always did underrate his power over members of the fairer sex. I’d seen him in action, but he still didn’t believe he was a charmer. I’d had girls come to me to help them beg Damiete to give them a chance. So much for having no charm… It seemed the dude had a large magnetic field where women (and even some men) were concerned.
I, however, remained girlfriendless throughout my first year and part of my second year. I was trying to build a strong foundation for my desired CGPA. It was in the second semester of my second year that I met Her…