The madman continues arguing with the officer over his rights and Victoria whips out her phone refusing to believe her eyes.

To our utter horror, the plate numbers matched and an uneasy silence crosses between us.

SARS was not a new thing and police would have a field day with teens holding expensive gadgets.

"You guys should cross to the other side while I go check what's going on." Demilade says, his eyes hardened and lips thinned.

I and Victoria begin to stammer in disagreement, but I'm the first to recover.

"So they can blow your head too right? Forget the ride you're coming with us." I say grabbing ahold of his wrist.

To my surprise, he doesn't budge.

"What happened last year was not a field day but if we can't confront them at least let me know why we're back to square one." he answers, penetrating me with his steady gaze.

Never had I seen a boy so fearless in the face of danger, and that itself seemed scary.

I huff and tug him towards me once more. "Vic, cancel the ride, and Demilade for once try not to be everyone's hero. Save yourself."

"It's better one of us than all. I'm hoping I'll get enough info to file a complaint." He says rising from his seat so he's looking down at me in the eye.

I glance at the commotion and my heart squeezes in my chest as the potbellied man snatches the driver's dingy iPhone.

He was young, had ombré dreads, and seemed like a university student or creative picking up a side hustle.

Had these 'officials' learned no sense after the bloodshed of October?

My hand nearly cuts off all blood flow in his wrist and without thinking twice, I jerk the adamant boy away and meet Victoria on the opposite street.

My eyes widen at the sound of Demilade yelling at the officer. "You better stop unless you want to go viral on Twitter!"

The older man releases our Bolt guy who hops back into the driver's seat and instead faces the stubborn idiot holding out a Samsung with a cocky grin.

The officer grabs the end of his rifle and Demilade hollers to us.

"Run in zig zags!" he says before the three of us take off in an instant.

I can hear ringing in my ears and I'm almost convinced this will be my last day on earth.

I see flashes of my friends sprinting forms from my peripheral vision and I gasp for air as I keep pushing my legs.

Soon the burning sensation in my calves transfer to my head and I'm just about ready to get shot when we round a corner.

Only then do I realize the sounds of screaming had faded out and instead of a man in a black suit, a beat-up silver Nissan had stopped for us.

Victoria who had been virtually silent except for the occasional shrieks speaks up.

"Wait o t-that's the ride we canceled."

Demilade laughs just amazed as I am.

"That road was a two-way." He says and by then some lactic acid had left my tissues so I land an agbara (heavy slap) on his back.

His spine curls inward and a cry tears from his mouth as his arms fly backward to cradle the spot.

"Was that really necessary?" he seethes, eyes barely opened as he speaks.

"You're mad! No seriously ment." I scream at him. The boy could have gotten us killed. He could have gotten killed.

I look up at the orange-violet horizon, willing myself not to cry as I usually did when I was angry.

"Can't you two just be grateful we survived an everyday apocalypse." Vic snaps looking at the two of us, shaking with every fiber of her bone.

Only then do I remember and almost sigh at my selfishness.

Roughly 10 years ago Vic's father had nearly been gunned down on a Sunday afternoon, during their summer holiday in Kansas.

My guilt keeps me from giving her the bone-crushing hug I knew she needed, but I apologize with as much sincerity as I could offer.

Out of the blue, the driver cuts in, having observed our live drama through his clear windows.

"Are you coming in or not?" he says after winding down the window.

We hesitate for a millisecond but jump in, figuring it was better to deal with the man than run into the officer again.

Inside the car, the A.C works at half strength, and what was supposed to be a refreshing cold vapor felt like tepid breaths of air coming from someone's mouth.

An Afro musician was rapping hard lyrics about some girl named Cynthia who had a 'banging' body in the background and he turns the volume down so we can hear him.

"Thank you for the help back there." he says to Demilade, looking in the rearview mirror.

The sweaty kid smiles, waving of risking his life like he had only shared his school lunch. "It was nothing those guys need to be taught a lesson every once in a while."

"Okay, I'm starting the ride again." Victoria says and the man nods turning back up the music.

I glance briefly at Demi to see him already boring holes in the side of my head.

He wiggles his brows at me and I purse my lips in return.

Still, I can't help the hardness that leaves my eyes and this causes my frown to slip off eventually.

How could I stay mad at him for saving another person?

For some reason, my mind rebuffs me in return. I had always heard about loving your neighbor and accompanying my words with actions.

But in the heat of the moment, I would risk another person's harm than help in any way I could.

I tell myself it wasn't like the officer had a gun to the man's head.

He was only breaching his privacy and threatening the man to the point that he had him pressed to the car bonnet.

Not everyone could be a hero like Demilade.

..........

When I get to my room Funmi is packing brown boxes and I stare at her befuddled.

She notices my presence and rises for her kneeling position, greeting me with a bright smile.

"What's happening?" I say to her.

"Hai Nimi!" she says at the same time.

I give her an awkward wave and she launches into a quick rant that nearly imbalances the fluids in my ears.

"So what you're telling me is, you're moving out?" I ask slowly piecing together her spurts of vocabulary.

She nods fervently clasping her hands together. "Yes, oh it's going to be a dream! My own apartment away from mum and her rules."

I eye her skeptically and she sighs.

"Look, Covid has postponed my formal graduation till mid-next year. But I have my degree and NYSC is starting soon. I promised myself that once I left for uni I wouldn't live here ever again." Funmi says placing her hands on my shoulders so she can get me to listen.

"And money?" I ask her and she smiles.

"I have a steady income from my freelance writing." Funmi says and I shake my head at the girl.

She had always been determined to grow her wings early, while I watched from the sidelines desperately wishing for the courage to even imagine myself in the air.

I throw off my tie and push aside one of the boxes with my foot so I can faceplant into my bed.

I rub my cheek against the baby blue comforter I had owned since I was eleven and let the soothing smell of body cream and detergent wash over me.

After basking in my ardent love for my bed I open my eyes so I can fire her with my next question.

"What are you going to tell mom?" I ask.

Giggles erupt from the corner of my room and continue till I see her clutching her stomach as she gasped for air.

"Extra." I say to her rolling my eyes.

She stands upright and waves her hand in a dismissal manner. "Sorry, it's just funny how you think she cares. I disappointed her a long time ago, I'm probably another misfortune of the saint who could do no wrong to be the author of her own problems."

I chuckle to myself at the thought of it myself. "Yeah, you're right. What are you going to do after NYSC." I ask and she stares at me like I had grown three heads.

"Go back to where I came from of course. See you, I already have a Permanent Residence card and I'm completing an online master's degree. Once my rent has expired I'm out of this poor excuse for democracy." Funmi says and my mouth is ajar in awe of her thinking.

She always had a seamless plan, even if it was to do what went against the grain of our society.

There was never a plan falling through with her.

"Be like say you go show me the way." I say to her and she tosses a ripped shirt at my face.

"See your mouth, finish your exams first."

The door opens and I know either mummy or daddy is around.

"Oluwalonimi!" my mother yells upon arrival and I groan without her hearing.

"Yes, mummy I'm coming!" I say and rush down the steps to attend to her.

........

I sneak into the only soundproof toilet in my house and press the dial button.

He picks up at the third ring.

"Hey, Mimi Pie," Isren says from the other side of the screen and it feels like a thousand butterflies escape the sweep net in my tummy.

"Hi to you too Pal." I respond, acting like I didn't skyrocket to cloud nine at his endearment.

It was stupidly cheesy but hearing him say it made my insides melt and glide over eachother.

Now I understood why people could stomach the most horrid of pet names when it came from the right person.

"Tani pal e (Who is your pal) ?" He says on the surprisingly smooth line and I laugh a little.

"Last I checked I was a single woman." I say to him and I hear him sigh on the other line.

"See this is what I hate about the talking stage." Isren remarks to no one in particular.

I stick my tongue at him even though he can't see it.

"Well, it's you that wanted to deal with it."

"And I still do. Speaking of any plans for your birthday?" He asks me.

"Why, so-" I say, but trail of at the sound of banging on the door.

"Nimi open up." a voice says and I quickly mute the call before stuffing the device in my shorts as the door swings open.