08
It was late at night, I had just gotten dropped off by Joel when I found Dayo, sitting alone in the dark with a glass of red wine.
I wanted to pretend like I didn't see her and rush upstairs and close my room, but our eyes met and I just stood there, feet immobile. She wasn't a fan of the dark but somehow I found satisfaction in her self-affliction.
"Nurys, please," she slurs her words out. She picks herself up from the couch, moving excruciatingly slow towards me with a few stumbles.
"It's really late, and I'm really tired," I tell her.
"I know, but–" she stops, and stares at me with glossy eyes.
"Wait, is thee Dayo high?" I asked, amused, and although I didn't want to be entertaining this conversation, this had to be my favourite part.
"Maybe a little bit, but…" She was now standing in front of me, her one hand on my shoulder. "I am so sorry Nurys," she pleads, a stream of tears staining her cheeks. Although I wanted her to feel bad, I no longer wanted to drag it along. She's my best friend after all and I might not have appreciated it, but I will learn to live with it.
"Why did you kiss him?" I ask, after having brought us back to the couch I had found her seated at.
"I don't even know, I hate myself for being so weak," she weeps.
"How did you guys even get in that position?" I wanted all the burning questions that I was dying for an answer out of the way so I could move on.
"He was… he was confiding in me and we had some alcohol courage. I should have sat far away from him, but I didn't think to do so - this was Basim after all."
"Right."
"I blame it on his sexual frustration and maybe I was also horny, I don't know what else to say. When he leaned in and kissed me, I wanted to push him away. I really did but once his hands grabbed my ass, I lost control for a second."
"I told you he was good at what he does," I say. Would you blame me if I said my blood was boiling at the thought of him taking out his sexual frustration on her instead of me.
"I didn't understand why you were so smitten by him and you hadn't even had sex with him, but now I know."
"Gosh, don't remind me, but it's over now," I embarrassingly admit.
"What do you mean?" She asks.
"If you want to fuck him now, I wouldn't be mad. I am over him and under someone else," I tell her, but then realise I hadn't done the tango with Joel yet.
"Well, not yet but soon. My eyes are on someone else." I wasn't sure if this was a complete lie or if something could potentially happen with me and Joel.
"Even if that was the case, I don't want you to worry about me being in that position with Basim ever again," she lets me know, and I'm somewhat grateful. She knew me well, because the thought of it alone had me seeking for an assassin.
I'm a Social Bug
I hear Dayo opening the door downstairs and mummers coming right after. Azalea had gone back to Turkey this morning and Rossita was in her room, packing for her flight. She leaves in two hours so by the time I was back from dinner with Joel, she should have been back in Miami.
"Who is it?" I called from upstairs, not thinking it was Joel - I still had a good ten minutes to spare.
"Your handsome date," Dayo answers, and I stop - my one heel on one foot and the other in my hand. I only ever expected Basim to be early, but any other guy, on time was the expectation. I let out an exasperated heave - why was he coming to mind?
"I'll be down in a minute," I shout, rushing to put my heel on and… thank goodness for being a black girl with braids, no need to brush my hair.
I leave my room and knock on Rossita's. "Hey, just wanted to come say goodbye," I popped my head in and she turned to smile.
"Have fun tonight, and I will see you soon."
"Thanks, have a safe flight." I close the door and quickly walk downstairs.
"Damn, you're a girl on a mission," Dayo comments as she stares at my choice of outfit. It wasn't much, a simple black mini flare dress with matching heels.
"Don't embarrass me in front of my date," I tell her. I turn to look at him, dressed more casually than the first night we met.
"Am I overdressed?" I ask him.
"Probably," he admits, scratching his head.
I mentally pull a red buzzer and press on it - WRONG ANSWER!
I sigh, turning to return back upstairs.
"You don't have to, you look amazing," he assures me. Right answer, but it was already too late. I needed to change.
"Joel, I'm going to go back upstairs to change, just give me ten minutes." I rush upstairs, leaving him alone with Dayo.
"You look beautiful," he whispers as we walk out the front door towards his car.
"You don't have to lie, but thank you," I smile, staring at the plain t-shirt and black jean combo I ended up going with.
"I know you were expecting somewhere a bit fancy, but I thought we could do something more rooted," he says and I arch my eyebrow.
I would know more about rootedness than anyone else in these streets of London. It wasn't like he took me to the slums or even the train station - it was a food truck located in the heart of Southbank place.
"Two of your best burgers please," he tells the guy inside the truck before handing his credit card. I was itching to tell him that I will pay for my own, but the last time I checked my bank balance, I only had enough to pay for my rent next month.
"Add fries," I hear him tell the man.
"It's beautiful here," I tell him, once we step out of the line.
"You haven't been?" He asks, genuinely shocked and I nod affirmatively.
"Well, we need to change that tonight.
The night ended, with it being the best I've had this whole trip. He was such a gentleman, but yet competitive, I felt a surge of comfortableness that scared me.
He pulls up in front of the house. "My flight leaves early tomorrow, but I can squeeze you in," I tell him.
"Sounds tempting, but I have to decline you and put a sock on it."
Is he serious?
"Are you serious?" I ask.
"It's not like I don't want to, but come on, I give you what you want now, and you dispose of me the next day."
"But… if you want for me to remember you, you have to leave me with something to remember you by," I whisper, leaning towards him and unclasping a button or two of his dress shirt. He places his hand on top of mine and I halt, I shift my head to look at him,"Are you seriously turning me down?" I ask.
He was the first guy who wasn't secretly looking up my dress for a free cookie and I was starting to question his angle here. Was he playing the long game?