In One Night episode 2

In One Night
episode 2
He ordered his second bottle of Guinness Stout half way through the plate of chicken and ch¡ps in front of him. It was quite spicy, and it would have been wiser to buy a bottle of water to cool his mouth, but he had always hated drinking water while taking beer.
Bimpe had told him on the phone that she had gone to see one of her aunt’s and would be back in school tonight. He felt there was no need to tell her he was on her campus at the moment. He would rather enjoy this alone time with some hot and spicy chicken and ch¡ps, cold beer, and eavesdrop on people’s conversations.
The table next to him was filled with middle aged men in Ankara attire. He guessed they were probably lecturers at the University, or maybe non academic staff. One of them was talking about his recent trip to Ghana, and how beer and most things were more expensive in Ghana compared to Nigeria. It amazed Ahmed as he had remembered how much cheaper alcohol was there back when he traveled to the country in 2008.
His phone started vibrating on the table. He dropped the greasy chicken lap back in the plate, wh¡pped his hand clean with the serviette by his plate, and picked up the phone. He stared at the unfamiliar number for a couple of seconds before picking up. “Hello!” He said.
“Hello. Please who is this?” A female voice said on the other end of the line.
“You called me.”
“I know, but you called me first.”
“What do you mean?” Ahmed said, irritation in his voice.
“You…” She was about saying but stopped. He could hear another female voice saying something in the background, and then there was silence for a few seconds, like the other girl was coming to the phone, and then she said, “Hello. Did you give your phone to a girl at the bank earlier today?”
He thought for a few seconds, still vexed as he swiped flies away from his plate of chicken and ch¡ps. “Yes. I did.”
“Okay. That was me. I’m so sorry.” She said with a little chuckle.
“Oh!”
“Yea, I called twice before my friend picked up. She must have seen the missed call and thought it was a new one.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks once again for earlier.”
“It’s no problem.” He said and the line went quiet. In a micro second, a picture of her flashed through his mind, and he thought of sparking up a conversation, but he went on to say, “Okay. Have a lovely day.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.” He said, put the phone on the table and went back to his plate of chicken and ch¡ps. The bartender was approaching with his second bottle of Stout when he rushed back like he had forgotten something. When he came back out from the inner bar with the drink he bumped into a flashily dressed guy. He apologized and kept walking, but the guy seemed offended, and shouted out curse words at him, adjusting the gold watch on his wrist, and intermittently pushing his cap up. Ahmed didn’t know if the guy was doing that because of the girl on his arm, or maybe he was a cult boy who was power drunk. With the glass jug to his mouth about to gulp down its last content, he froze at who he saw. In the s€×iest mini gown he had ever seen her wearing was his girlfriend, Bimpe, beside the wailing guy. She was calming him down with her hand around his wa-ist. “Oga, make I open am?” The bartender was saying, but Ahmed was dazed. He dropped his mug on the table, with shaky hands he pulled out his wallet, counted two pieces of five hundred Naira bills, squeezed it in the bartender’s hand, picked up his phone and almost tripped as he got up in a hurry to leave the scene.
His car keys fell to the floor as he pulled the bunch out of his pocket. “Ahmed!” he heard her call, and he quickened his pace. He pressed the key fob to unlock the car, got in, and quickly slammed the door. She was by his car window now, with fear in her eyes as she knocked on the glass. He didn’t know if he had become temporarily deaf, or the in,side of his car was soundproof as he couldn’t hear anything she was saying. The red dress she had on was cle-vage revealing, and the thought of her dressing s€×y for another man vexed him even more. He slowly backed out of the s₱0t he had parked, and then zoomed off.
Patrick had just k-ssed a girl goodbye when he saw a girl waving at him from the right wing of the mall. He turned in the other direction and kept on walking. He was so much of a player, he didn’t know if she was someone he had left on a bad note. He pulled up the collar of his black polo top and adjusted his dark shades as he headed towards staircase that led to the cinema.
They say short men always do extra everything because they feel people always look down on them and belittle them, so they want to show they are just as capable as tall guys. If that was really true, Patrick was a very good example of that theory. He was charcoal black, 5 ft 4, with muscles he built to compensate for his vertical disadvantage. His charm was his wit, and he had gotten a fair share of girls just by making them laugh.
He was about to take his fist step up the stairs when she pulled him by the hand, and the curious look on her face turned to an angry one when they came face to face. She was just about an inch taller than him. “Why didn’t you answer me? I’ve been shouting your name.” She said, standing at akimbo. Her face was like the canvass of a confused painter. She had been crying, and her makeup was all over her face. For someone that was light skinned, it was very obvious, but it was clear she didn’t care.
“Oh! Bimpe, it is you? Sorry…I thought…” He was saying and stopped to laugh and lift up his shades. “What’s up with your face? Is this the new trend now? You young girls keep coming up with weird fashion.” He added as his eyes scanned all around the place. “Are you with Ahmed? Where is he?” He said with his eyebrows arched. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “What’s wrong?” He said looking at her intensely.
She looked up, and her eyes searched everywhere, probably looking for a quiet place they could talk. It was 8 pm on a Friday night, the wh0le place was rowdy, and loud music was playing at the bar by the mall entrance.
“Did you come with your car?” She asked and he nodded. “Great. Let’s go talk there.”
……….
The car was silent for a while and then Patrick said, “But Bimpe, you messed up big time. Ahmed is a…”
“I know! I know! He is a great guy, I f—-d up.” She said and hit her forehead with her palm. “Patrick, that guy is just someone that keeps boys away from me on campus.”
“So…”
“Come on Patrick, you know sometimes girls just have this guy on the side. Not like I’m double dating or anything.”
After looking into space for a while, he said, “Men! Ahmed is a cool guy, but you know how he can be when he gets angry.”
“I know.” She said and rested her head on her clasped hands. “Please, I need you to let me into your apartment, so I can wait for him tonight.”
“Girl, where have you been? I moved out like two months ago.”
“Are you serious? Why?” She asked, shocked.
“You don’t expect me to stay with my best friend forever, do you?” He said with a frown on his face. “And I just dropped the key to the apartment with him yesterday.” He added. She looked at him for a second, and then bowed her head again. “But the Ahmed I know would definitely not be heading home at a time like this.”
She looked up excited as she said, “You know where he could be?”
“Yes I do.” He said and started up the engine of the Toyota Sienna space wagon. “I think I do.” He added.