She says I should resist the devil and not call him tonight. I look at her misguidedly, like a little child who has been denied an extra ball of akara. I don’t need to hear it from her, I already told myself that I wasn’t going to call him anyways, that it was the smart, dignified thing to do- when you grow up a lady in Nigeria, you learn to hide your emotions because, showing them makes you weak, vulnerable. We all know how the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak so, disregarding my previous conviction, I pick up my phone and begin to dial, again and again, but like some repellant it keeps sending me straight to voice mail… his damn phone.

This whole time, she has been watching me, fascinated at my obsession.  I put down the phone and inch closer to her, batting my eyelids unrepentantly.
-Call him now?
-Why? She asks.
-I miss him, I want to talk to him.
-So call him yourself, you’re closer to him than I am
-Exactly, so if you call him, he wouldn’t think otherwise because you guys aren’t that close.
She looks at me like a bereaved mother, I can sense the wonder in her eyes, the confusion; I don’t expect her to understand.
-You like this boy? She asks.
-We’re just friends…  I miss my friend and I want to talk to him… so call him?She looks at me again, her eyes attempting to bare my soul, I can tell she doesn’t believe me but I do not attempt to justify my claims. With a long deep sigh, she inches away from me, then, plugs her earphones back into her ear. The solitude of the silence grasps me almost immediately. I close my eyes in response, eager to partake in the soothing relief the quiet brings. For a moment, all that can be heard is my labored breathing and the quiet shuffle of her feet on the rug.Then, I hear it; silent, soothing, questioning whispers, all in my head.Just friends? So why can’t you call him? Nah, the guy is supposed to call the girl, me calling him seems cheap. But you just said you’re just friends, these things don’t matter when you’re JUST FRIENDS. Scratch that. You were mean yesterday, you probably hurt his feelings, and today, he probably thinks you’re too bossy, you probably bother him a lot.
I pick up my phone. Don’t call him! You’re probably bothering him, or not? What if he’s actually waiting for your call?
Sighing loudly, I return my phone to the desk and proceed to the rest room for a quick shower.We are just friends, yet, I never know how to act around this one, just like I never know what’s going on in his head when he switches from cheery to hesitant. I long to ask him, in those moments, what he’s so scared of, what he is hiding from, but he waves it off with a smile. Oh well, maybe he’s not for me to figure out. I sigh again, it’s hard to trust when you don’t know enough, harder to let people in when you don’t trust.
She’ll ask me again if I like him and I’ll say “I already told you, we’re just friends”. The kind who spend close to an hour debating on whether to make a call or not… but that’s none of her business.