Not your average best friend
923 Words
Sandra’s POV
I suddenly heard a loud bang, and I shot up in shock. It felt like I had been caught doing something suspicious. My spirit practically left my body for a second.
“What the f**k?” I shouted, quickly turning my head toward the door.
I already knew who it would be. There was only one person capable of such an entrance. One hand was pressed to my chest, trying to calm the racing heartbeat.
“Hi, bestie!” she said, walking straight to my bed. Of course,it was Angel, my best friend.
“Why would you bang the door like that? You scared me to death!” I scolded.
She just rolled her eyes at me, blew me a kiss, and plopped down on my bed. Angel was in her usual blue mood: a blue gown, blue bag, blue attachments woven into her hair, and blue sandals to top it all off.
“Hey, Sandra… guess who I saw at the mall today?” Angel asked, smiling mischievously, clearly expecting me to guess. But I wasn’t in the mood for her games.
“Just go straight to the point, don’t stress my brain,” I said, getting off the bed and heading to the fridge to grab some fruit juice. She followed.
I poured two glasses of juice, one for me and one for her. We both made our way back to my room.
“Must you always spoil every moment? Just guess, nah. Don’t be a boring and annoying girlfriend,” she continued dramatically, still not letting me answer before she blurted it out.
“I saw Loba!” she announced, her eyes wide like an owl.
Loba. One of the street gang stars. And, accidentally, Angel’s long-time crush. He had ocean eyes, curly hair, and was at least two feet taller than Angel. I’d admit he was handsome, but I still couldn’t figure out why Angel was crushing on someone with such a low-life reputation. Love is blind, I guess.
“I thought as much,” I teased, opening the door to the room with my left hand while holding my juice in the right.
“What do you mean?” She gave me a sheepish smile. I sipped from my drink and set it down.
She suddenly threw a pillow at me. Within seconds, it escalated into a full-blown pillow fight that lasted a solid minute. She hit me hard on the head, and I finally raised my hands in surrender.
“I surrender o!” I shouted.
We both collapsed on the bed, laughing and gasping for breath.
“But honestly, I was surprised to see him at the mall. I mean, he and his gang hardly come out,” she said dreamily, still thinking about him.
I thought she would have forgotten about Loba after the pillow fight, but here she was, still stuck on him.
“Yeah, that’s true. Maybe he needed to get something urgently,” I replied, still breathing heavily.
She got up and walked to the mirror in my room, checking herself out.
“You didn’t even notice my new hairstyle,” she said, posing in front of the mirror.
She pulled out a lip gloss from her bag and carefully applied it, smacking her lips together to spread it evenly.
“Westlock High will hear from me tomorrow. Sandra, picture this….” She cleared her throat, then dramatically walked towards me, striking a catwalk pose.
“Dear students of Westlock High, behold your new queen, Angel Indulge, as she steps out boldly for the beginning of a new term with an elegant hairstyle,” she declared, one hand resting on her tiny waist, walking confidently across the room.
I clapped, smiling.
“Wow, your English has improved,” I teased.
“I know, right?” she squealed, but then suddenly frowned as my words registered.
“So I no sabi English before? Is that what you mean?” she asked in pidgin, frowning at me.
I laughed so hard I almost choked. I pulled her into a tight, warm hug. There was never a dull moment with Angel.
“You sef, you know say na because of fashion your team dey shine, no be say una dey study,” I joked back in pidgin.
“Not everyone is a bookworm like you, duh,” she replied sarcastically.
“Whatever,” I said, pulling away and standing up.
Angel suddenly hissed loudly.
“What is it?” I asked, walking over to see her phone.
She showed me a picture of one of our classmates, Starr. Underneath, the caption read:
“Who’s ready for the section? I am fully ready!”
“Omo, this girl just dey disturb our w******p group with stupid posts and quotes. Who told her to send a picture now?” Angel ranted, sounding jealous but still glued to her phone.
“She could have just told us she wanted to show off her new hairstyle. Mtchewww.”
She glanced at me. I smiled and picked up my phone.
“The only thing I don’t like about her is that she loves showing off,” I said.
When I looked up again, I caught Angel busily taking selfies.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” I asked, almost yelling, even though I already knew the answer.
“Na only her sabi snap and post abi?” she replied in pidgin, still posing for the camera.
I stood up and shouted her name.
“ANGEL!!!”
- Writer
