A wise man once said- live your life to the fullest, have fun and do whatever makes you happy because at the end, you would not get out of it alive.
That short witty saying is basically the policy I try to live by day in day out.
My name is Chiamaka but a lot of people forget to add the “Chi” and therefore shorten it to Amaka. I am a very blunt twenty years old psychology student at Yaba-Tech and my boyfriend is Maxwell.
I met Maxwell last year at a church musical concert, The Xperience, and we kicked off almost immediately.
He had been on the security team and had been the one who saved me from a set of boys who had had a little too much to drink so obviously I owed him a drink in return.
He knew this fact and after flirting with me a bit, he asked me out on a date which I agreed to. Few hours into our date, I was in his bed, sweating and being pounded between my thighs.
I’m not a wh0re, a hoe or whatever term you use to refer to girls who sleep with guys on their first dates. I just don’t think sex should be such a big deal, besides, I love sex.
I would have loved to tell you guys about the nasty things I’ve done but then let’s leave those stories for another day.
So, back to Maxwell.
We’ve been dating for six months, which is thrice the longest time either of us has been in a relationship and it’s because we have developed a pattern that works for us.
We have an open relationship. I fuck whoever I want, he fucks whoever he wants, I give him his much needed space and he vice versa but at the end of the day, he is the one for me and I’m the one for him.
I know his kind of guy. They just want you to be pretty for them and they are willing to pay for your submission, albeit indirectly. No nagging, no complains, just fun and sex. More of the sex part though.
He is probably dating a million other girls and I’ve got no problem with that because like I’ve mentioned before, we are in an open relationship. What I have a problem with is he is fucking Mary-Anne, my neighbor.
I don’t know if my own understanding of an open relationship is different from other people’s understanding but I understand that both partners are allowed to “freelance” but should respect each other enough to be very discreet about other affairs.
Maxwell is everything but discreet. The guy could have picked any girl in the entire Yaba-Tech to “play” with but he just had to come to my lodge and shag Mary-Anne.
Now Mary-Anne has been mentioned, I’ll like to point out something. She is the most naïve girl I’ve ever met. Don’t get me wrong, her grades are probably great and she’s quite smart but she’s an ignoramus when it comes to boys, partying and generally socializing. I’m fully aware she thinks she’s pregnant as she told me herself, although indirectly as she formulated one cock and bull story about her sister instead of her. I know she’s the only child so I don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce she’s pregnant.
Maxwell is likely to be responsible for her pregnancy since he is her boyfriend but what I don’t understand is why she is obviously hiding it from him. I plan on finding out.
The temperature in the ward went from ice to flames in seconds as Maxwell asked the dreaded question.
“Mary-Anne, what was that all about?” He had asked.
Mary-Anne froze and stared blankly at Maxwell as if she hadn’t heard him which made him repeat the question. This time she had to answer. I feared she would panic and tell Maxwell everything. I have seen Maxwell get angry before only once and it’s not something I want to go through again.
“Nothing,” She said simply.
“What do you mean by nothing?” Maxwell asked as he took her palm in to his.
“It’s nothing I want to talk about!” She replied firmly, and then as if she felt bad for raising her voice she added, “I was just having a really bad day.”
Maxwell was quiet on the issue afterwards and tried to sound casual, talking about casual things. I was really glad he didn’t decide to push it.
Soon enough, the doctor came back to the ward and instructed us to leave Mary-Anne to rest. On getting outside he pulled Maxwell and I aside to speak to us.
“We need to contact her family right away,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, there’s a problem.” He replied.
TO BE CONTINUED
PS: Want to have Why I Want To Be Bad on your phone? It’s now on okadabooks.com. I decided to post the book in a series form where each book has five chapters so you can check it out.