《Gone Bad (Nigerian Novel) -Editing》Chapter 12 : Belle of the Ball

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I wave for the last time before my mother's black honda dissapears down the road.

"Thank God." I say to Victoria who had been watching me shoo my mother with amusement.

It was Friday and we were having a weekend slumber party.

My mum had only agreed on the condition that we group studied as finals were a few weeks away.

Not that it mattered though - I had sat for all my foreign college entrance exams, this was only a back up.

"Oya cinderella let us begin." Victoria says ascending the steps.

"What about your mom?" I ask glancing at the clock.

We had an hour and a half left but her mom hadn't left for night vigil service.

"She'll be gone in an hour and it's me she'll want to check with to go over security drills. Just follow me." she responds and I hike up the steps with her.

In her room the stale scent of body mist and shower gel still hangs in the air and she turns the fan knob to one.

I flip the light switch to reveal the familiar violet coloured walls that had begun to peel near the ground.

Her room is a mess with uniforms hanging on the wardrobe doors, mountains of revisional test papers littering the plastic table in the corner and a thin layer of dust from a few days of postponed sweeping.

I simply drop my bag on her queen sized bed and begin unzipping it -familiarity deadens you to alot of things.

"Are you excited for the gala." Victoria asks staring at me like I was the luckiest girl in the world.

"I feel like Cinderella when she snuck out to the ball -young, afraid to get caught, and like a fraud." I deadpan looking up from my search.

She frowns and this and argues. "Don't say that, you're ruining a good fairytale with your pessimism."

I pull the expensive nylon from my bag and answer her. "It's called being realistic."

Victoria rolls her eyes and sets on pulling out her makeup products.

"You're such a dead guy." she says taking out everything but her foundation and concealer.

We had different skintones so I had come with mine, they were a 16th birthday gift from my sister that I rarely used.

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My friend on the other hand, was a self taught make up artist since she could steal from her mother's cosmetic bag without her noticing.

I take the dress out of the protective nylon and my friend squeals behind me.

My reaction is a different kind of stunned as my eyes skim the length of the soft lustrous fabric.

It was a floor-length champagne dress with a beautiful drape. It had a red carpet appearance with it's full skirt and cowl neck that was sure to reveal the little bust I had.

My shock came from when I saw how high the slit ventured up my thigh.

"This is so gorgeous, there's no way you could have had this in your closet. No offense but tell me everything!" Victoria gushed."

I shake my head at her stripping out of my uniform unsurely.

"You're using your hand and not your mouth to change, don't be stingy with gist na." she wines and I give in.

"I some errand boy he sent after school delivered Isren's alleged gift." I say and her brows shoot up.

"Nothing comes for free in Lagos." she says.

I nod and continue. "Same thing I thought. But he insisted it was a gift and honestly I'd rather not embarass myself in front of rich people."

Victoria agrees with me on that one and helps me take out the other accessories. I had matching Verton low heeled stilletos and crystal earrings. I avert my gaze so I don't dwell on the cost of the jewellery that was no doubt made of real gems.

"How did your mum not find out though?" she asks and I smirk.

"No one said anything about it being delivered to my home address." I respond and she laughs at me.

"So you know how to hide things from your parents. Yet if I 'fornicate' I am the rotten one. As if they aren't both sins to God." Victoria says.

It nips at my my conscience but I brush it off convincing myself that God wouldn't mind so much. Technically I hadn't lied, only avoided unecessary drama.

Weren't Christians called to lead quiet lives?

I didn't really care to know the truth anyways, just enough to feel like I wasn't going to hell.

Victoria checks her watch and goes into a frenzy. "Oya we need to hurry up!"

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.......................

By the time a knock is heard on the door Victoria's mum is gone and I'm hooking the other pair of my earrings.

Isren had understood my dilemma and sent a driver to escort me to the other street where I could leave without setting tongues wagging.

Especially for Victoria's sake since she would have to deal with the nosy neighbors long after tonight.

A kind elderly looking man greets me and I answer him before I bid Victoria goodbye.

She stands by the door fake crying like an American parent. "Oh they grow up so fast, look at my baby going to her first gala!"

I shake my head at her and the curls from my wig bounce softly against my shoulder.

She crowns her performance with an exaggerated groan, adding a few hiccups for variety before she slams the door behind me.

I apologize to the man struggling to keep a professional expression and we make our way to the car.

He opens the door and I contemplate how to enter without flashing Isren.

I fold a large portion of fabric over my slit and slide in the most ladlike manner I could muster.

I hardly practiced the etiquette videos I watched on youtube so implementing them was a challenge.

Once I'm settle inside I turn to him and he stares at me like I was the most beautiful thing God had ever made.

I purse my lips under his scrutiny and he quickly composes himself.

"You look like a dream Mimi." he says refusing to take his eyes off me.

Feeling flustered I respond the only way I know how.

"Then can I pinch you?" I ask and his gorgeous teeth show from beneath his lips.

I stare at what was above a little too long and pull away, realizing he had noticed this too.

"Three weeks" is all he says and I smile as I look out the window.

I mull over our exchange and turn to him, raising a perfectly filled in brow as I did so.

"You called me Mimi." I say.

He turns to me smiling, "Don't you like it?"

I pout in return, deviating from my usual answer. "I'm afraid I like it too much."

He brushes some tresses behind my bare shoulder, and a chill travels with his movements though I feel heat in my core.

"Then I will say it till you get tired of the same words." he responds in a husky voice and deprives me of the pleasure of his fingers as fast as it had come.

Three more weeks.

...................................

The hall is slit by series of chandeliers hanging from the cream ceiling, adorned with flecks of cold across and bordering the edges.

I marvel at the ethereal hall taking in the splendor of the ornate crystal chairs with champagne cushions along with the vastness of the room crowned at both sides with a grand staircase that merged in the middle.

Soft notes from the live band wafted through the air and men and women alike resemble royalty in their attire.

We had taken another route to avoid the red carpet but eyes begin to stop on us and I slip on a mask of decorum.

"They really went all out." Isren says placing his hand atop mine though our arms were already interlaced.

I ignore the affectionate gesture and reply him as he steers us in the direction of a table.

"I'm having hard time believe this is just a hotel and not a Victorian castle." I say.

His eyes crinkle and he speaks over the music. "Well if it were a castle I think we all know who'd be the princess."

I look around to see a various eyes appraise my dress before returning to their upturned noses as the affluent were fond of doing.

I only smile in return and take the seat he pulls out for me.

As he sits beside me the smell of an aromatic wood and something I couldn't place a finger on entices me to him.

He did not assault my nostrils with the hard scent of cheap cologne I was used to smelling around and had grown to detest in males.

The vulgar smell of what I would call wet wood mixed with grandma perfume had nothing the luxurious aroma that pushed me to look back at him, so I could take it in before my nose forgot the smell.

The fog however is cleared from my mind when a ravishing young woman stands before our table, and my heart leaps to my throat.

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