The Summer I Fell In Love

Episode 2This is summer ✨

As I slowly opened my eyes, the warm sunlight streaming into my room made me smile. The curtains were open, and I murmured to myself, "Yes, this is summer." Since my time in Winnipeg, I'd grown to love the season - the freedom to wear whatever I liked, without the burden of thick clothes and gloves, was a welcome relief.

I sat up in bed, realizing I hadn't finished folding my clothes from the previous day. I quickly folded the rest and neatly arranged them in my wardrobe before rushing to freshen up. I slipped into a blue bum shorts and an armless white top, tucking it in at the waist. As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but admire how beautiful I looked, maybe because it was summer. The shorts accentuated the curves I'd inherited from my mom - curves that had developed early, at just 15. My mom had always been mindful of my figure, encouraging me to wear loose-fitting joggers to hide my shape back then.

As I prepared for the day, I thought about how I hadn't spoken to my mom since yesterday. I picked up my phone from the bed, and the time read 11:30 AM. "Wow, I woke up so late," I muttered, surprised by the time. I decided to give my mom a call, using voice call feature. After a few rings, she picked up, sounding overjoyed. "My princess, how are you?" she asked, her voice filled with warmth.

I smiled as I sprayed perfume on my body, feeling a pang of homesickness. "Mummy, I'm good. I miss you," I said, my voice softening into a baby-like tone. It had been three years since I'd seen my family, except for my older brother who lived in America. I'd visited him last year during spring, and it had been wonderful to spend time with him.

My mom chuckled on the other end of the line. "I miss you too, baby. Don't worry, we'll see you this year, definitely. Just make us proud and do well," she said, her words filled with the familiar expectation of excellence. My parents were bookworms, valuing hard work and education above all else. And my siblings and I had never disappointed them.

My older brother, James, who was pursuing his PhD in America, was a shining example. He'd graduated with first-class honors in computer science and had gone on to earn his master's degree. My twin brothers,David and Mark, who lived with my parents in Abuja, had also graduated with first-class honors in mass communication. As for me, I'd maintained a first-class grade since my first year, and I was determined to keep it that way until I graduated.

The conversation with my mom was brief but uplifting. As we wrapped up our call, I felt a sense of motivation wash over me. I was determined to make my parents proud and keep working towards my goals.

As I went about my day, I headed to the kitchen, only to be startled by the presence of my housemate, Felicia, who was cooking. I couldn't help but think, "Gosh, why is she here?" given the cold treatment she'd been giving me. I'd even been considering moving out to avoid the awkwardness. Trying to ignore her, I focused on preparing my own breakfast. I retrieved bread and eggs from the fridge and began cooking, placing the frying pan on the stove.

Felicia and I worked in silence, each of us lost in our own world. Once she finished cooking, she packed up and left the house. As the door closed behind her, I let out a sigh of relief. "Gosh, it was so hot while she was here," I muttered to myself, feeling a mix of tension and unease.

With the kitchen to myself, I turned my attention to my meal. The eggs were done, and I paired them with bread and a chilled Coke, enjoying the simple pleasure of a quiet breakfast.

I settled into the couch in the living room, feeling the soft cushions envelop me in comfort. With a lazy Saturday ahead and a month-long summer break stretching out, I decided to indulge in some quality TV time. I switched on the TV and navigated to Netflix, scrolling through the options to find the perfect show to pass the time. After a few minutes of browsing, I finally settled on a Korean series that caught my eye.

Excited to dive in, I quickly stood up to grab the ice cream I'd bought a couple of days ago. The cold treat would be the perfect accompaniment to my marathon viewing session. I headed to the freezer, eager to get settled in with my snack and get lost in the drama unfolding on screen.

As I was engrossed in the Korean series, my phone suddenly rang from my room, breaking the silence. I stood up sluggishly, wondering who was interrupting my peaceful afternoon. I made my way to my room, picked up the phone, and was thrilled to see Martha's name flashing on the screen. Martha was the only daughter of the Maxwell family, with whom I'd stayed when I first arrived in Canada three years ago.

I had a great connection with Martha, despite her being a year older than me. She had a warm and welcoming nature that made me feel at ease. Although we'd lost touch over time, and it had been a year since we'd last seen each other, we'd managed to catch up whenever she had a chance. As a model, Martha's schedule was hectic, and she traveled extensively.

When I saw her name on the screen, I couldn't help but smile. I picked up the phone, and in a cheerful tone, she said, "Hello babyyy!" Martha screamed excitedly on the other end, and I couldn't help but grin. "Hiii, our model," I replied, playfully referencing her career.

She burst out laughing and said, “Girl, guess what?”

No how’re you, —just straight to the point.

“I have no clue—what is it?” I asked, already smiling.

I could hear the amusement in her voice. “You really can’t guess? Well... I’m in town tonight so you have to come out.”

I froze for a second. Back when I was living at Martha’s place two years ago, I hated going out. She usually ended up heading out on her own while I stayed in. And on the rare occasions I did join her, I’d rush her to leave early so we could go home.

“Stephanie?” she said, breaking my silence.

“Yes, okayyy…’ll be there,” I finally replied, laughing. “Just send me the location.”

She blew me kisses and hung up.

I sat on the edge of my bed, blinking at the wall. “Am I really going out?”

Maybe just this once wouldn’t hurt.

I had slept all afternoon. If my phone hadn’t buzzed and snapped me out of it, I probably would’ve dozed straight into the night. This summer, I’d promised myself I’d reclaim every hour of sleep I lost during the school year.

I reached for my phone. A new message from Martha lit up the screen:

“Here’s the location: 529 Wellington.”

I immediately stood up to take a cool shower. I came out of the bathroom with my towel wrapped around me, parading my wardrobe, looking for what to wear tonight. My eyes finally landed on a black, floor-length gown. It was a sleek, form-fitting dress with a modest V-neckline that hinted at elegance without revealing too much. The fabric, a soft matte jersey, draped beautifully, and a subtle slit on the left side promised ease of movement and a touch of allure.

I slipped into the dress, a garment that had remained untouched in my closet since its purchase. A quick, minimalist makeup application followed, focusing solely on a trendy lip combination, a nod to contemporary styles. I fastened a delicate Chanel necklace around my neck and spritzed on my cherished perfume, "Happiness."

Completing my ensemble, I donned my favorite heels, grabbed my Chanel purse, and headed out of the apartment. Just as I was nearing the building's exit, Martha's call came through; she had already hailed a cab for me. I waited a few minutes outside, and soon, the taxi pulled up.