Do I? (Chapter One)

Between What Is and What Could Be

The first time I saw him was on a very hot afternoon on school grounds.

The sun was scorching, the kind that sits heavily on your skin and makes every step feel like effort. The air felt dry, restless, and the only real way to cool down was to get ice cream from the school shop.

As I walked up, already thinking about how cold it would feel against my tongue, I noticed Peter standing by the right side of the shop.

He was staring at his phone.

Not just looking at it or scrolling, but staring like whatever was on the screen had completely taken over his thoughts.

He caught my attention immediately.

Not because of his height or the way he stood, but because of something I had never seen before.

There was a strange vein, very bold, running down the middle of his face. It started from his forehead and settled right between his eyes. It was so visible, so defined, that for a few seconds, it was the only thing I could see.

I couldn’t stop staring.

In all my twenty four years, I had never seen anything like that.

It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t something you would miss if you blinked. It sat there, demanding attention, almost alive on his skin.

After a while, I forced myself to look away.

He was fair, with smooth skin that caught the light. His hair was soft, curly, and dark, resting lightly on his head. He was tall and slim in a way that was… cute. Not weak or awkward, just soft enough to make you look twice.

I found myself wondering why he looked so upset, even though I had no intention of finding out.

Peter was still staring at his phone as I walked past him to place my order. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw him look up at me.

Or maybe I imagined it.

He wasn’t someone I planned to talk to. It didn’t even occur to me to think of him as attractive, or someone I could be attracted to.

I was usually only drawn to dark skinned guys.

So whatever this was, it wasn’t that.

I got my ice cream, and almost immediately, reality hit me.

I was in a hurry.

The lecture hall was five minutes away, and I was walking. The lecture would start in ten minutes, but the lecturer always arrived five minutes early.

Which meant I was already late.

I started regretting stopping for ice cream. What was meant to be quick had taken too long, and now I was the one paying for it.

So I ran.

There was no way I was getting to class before Mr Obi without running.

And Mr Obi was not someone you came late for. He was known for failing students who walked in after him. No excuses. No explanations.

As I got to the shop entrance, moving faster than I should have, it happened.

I ran straight into the door.

Hard.

My left shoulder slammed into it, and my ice cream went flying.

It all happened in a second, but the pain that followed felt endless.

I swear, it was the worst pain I had ever felt.

God.

For a moment, I honestly thought I had lost my arm.

The pain shot through me so violently that my mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. I expected to see blood. I expected my arm to be hanging loose, completely detached.

That was how bad it felt.

I screamed as I hit the ground.

“JESUS!”

People rushed towards me. Voices overlapped. Hands reached out. But I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Everything became noise.

All I could feel was my shoulder.

Burning.

Heavy.

Wrong.

They took me to the school sick bay, but it was obvious I needed more serious attention. There was no time to waste, so I was moved to a general hospital in the school ambulance.

As the ambulance drove on, my thoughts ran wild.

How did I hit my shoulder that hard?

How did I not see the door?

How did I miscalculate like that?

It is God that will punish that stupid Mr Obi.

How bad is this injury?

The questions kept coming, mixing with the pain.

By the time we got to the hospital, it felt like forever.

Because I came with the school nurse, I was attended to quickly. They examined my shoulder and sent me for an X ray, especially because of how swollen it was and how much pain I was in.

I waited, tense, already preparing myself for bad news.

But thankfully, it wasn’t a fracture.

It was a dislocation.

They wrapped my shoulder carefully, securing it in place.

Relief washed over me, even though the pain was still there.

I was given stale bread and watery tea since I hadn’t eaten all day, along with several medications. They also handed me more drugs to take home.

They kept checking on me, one thing after another, until eventually, I was asked to pay for the drugs and the X ray.

I couldn’t help but think, I thought general hospitals in Nigeria were free.

Finally, after everything, I was allowed to go home.

The school nurse had told me earlier that a man and some other people brought me to the hospital. The man stayed behind but refused to come inside with us because he hated hospitals.

Ah. Yes. You guessed right.

Peter was the “man.”

I was very grateful to the nurse for following me there and making sure I was okay before she left.

****************************************

Outside the hospital, Peter rushed toward me with a very concerned look on his face. I noticed the vein I had seen earlier wasn’t as bold as before, but it was still there.

I thanked him so much. I truly was very grateful.

“What’s your name, and is there someone you can call to take you home?” he asked.

“My name is Sera,” I said. “And no… there’s no one I can call.”

I lived outside the school hostel. I stayed alone. I didn’t really have anyone. My sister had come to visit, but she left the day before, so there was no one to call. I had acquaintances, not friends.

I was a loner.

Friendships had never worked well for me. It was always one thing or the other. Either they got jealous somehow, or they stole from me. It was exhausting. So I chose to be by myself.

I was cordial with people, my neighbours, my course mates, but I made sure not to have a “friend friend.” I was tired of the constant betrayal and backstabbing.

Peter agreed to take me home since he had a Hyundai Sonata he drove. I gave him my address so he could navigate without me.

I slept all through the ride.

I felt weak, tired, and there was a rumble in my stomach. I was very sure the bread and tea from the hospital were looking for a way out of my system.

When I opened my eyes, we were parked outside my house.

I looked around, then turned to Peter. He was asleep in the driver’s seat.

The shape of his face caught my attention. He had an elongated jaw. No beard, so it was easy to see how defined it was. I found myself trying to decide if he was handsome or not. The vein on his face, the sharp jawline, the small mouth… it was all a bit confusing.

He was skinny, but not malnourished. His Adam’s apple was visible, and he let out a soft snore as he slept.

I tried to look at his legs, but it was too dark. That was when it hit me.

It was dark outside.

The light from the gate was the only thing shining through the windscreen, casting just enough glow to illuminate parts of his face.

Confusion settled in immediately.

When we left the hospital, it was midday. The hospital was just about thirty five minutes away from my house. How was it dark already?

My mind began to race.

Eh… this guy don use me o.
My village people don get me.
Why didn’t I just order a ride?

Those were the exact thoughts running through my head as I tapped him.

“What’s happening?”
“What did you do to me?”
“Are you a ritualist?”
“Where did you take me before we got here?”
“Did we just arrive now?”

I asked everything at once as he slowly woke up.

He burst into laughter.

“Sera, calm down,” he said still laughing. “I didn’t want to wake you. You slept so peacefully, and I knew you had been through a lot of pain. I preferred you wake up on your own.”

I immediately thought to myself that this Peter guy was… strange.

But at the same time, I was relieved. I was just happy I got home safely.

He walked me past the gate, into the compound, and we stopped in front of my door.

I didn’t want him to come in. I hadn’t invited anyone into my space since I moved there, and I didn’t know him well enough. But I was tired. Drowsy. Weak.

So when he offered to help me inside, I didn’t argue.

I agreed.

I lived in a self contained apartment. One room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. It was comfortable, and always clean. I made sure of that. I had dealt with OCD for as long as I could remember.

“I got you food on our way here,” Peter said with a small smile. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got rice and turkey with plantains. I also got snacks. Everybody likes rice and snacks.”

I was genuinely surprised.

I didn’t even know this person, and he had already done so much for me. Honestly, I don’t think I would have done all this if the situation was reversed.

But I was grateful.

He helped microwave the rice, arranged the snacks in the fridge, and waited. He waited while I had my bath, ate, and took my drugs.

Only then did he ask for my number.

As he was about to leave, he said, “So I can call you tomorrow morning to check on you. Or in case you need anything, you can call me.”

“My number is 09356789211,” I said without hesitation.

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The next morning, I could hear my phone ringing from inside my dreams.

I was too tired to pick up, drowsy from the drugs but it kept ringing.

“Hello… who is this?” I said, my voice heavy with sleep.

“Is this how you answer your good Samaritan?” A tiny voice replied.

“Who is this?” I asked again, already irritated.

“It’s Peter.”

At that point, I was annoyed. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was the pain. I just felt angry.

“Who is Peter?” I asked wondering why someone whose name was Peter sounded like a girl.

“The person who helped you at the hospital yesterday.”

“Oh… good morning,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry. I’m just in a lot of pain, and you kind of woke me up. Your name is Peter?”

I felt a bit bad for snapping at him.

“Yes, I’m Peter,” he said calmly. “How are you feeling? Since you’re in a lot of pain, I can come help you with whatever you might need.”