Round Two

One - Zuri

Zuri

“You sure you wanna go in?”

The bungalow stood out terribly in the neighborhood - Cracks scattered across the faded white walls, epiphytes wrapped all over the picket fence that guarded the overgrown lawn; it was even worse with the afternoon sun beaming off the ugly roof. I had been standing beside my boyfriend in the empty driveway for ten minutes now, since we got back from his place.

“Yea.” I swallowed. I looked up at him, a faint smile spreading across my face. “It's not like I have a choice.”

Gabriel Santos was an awfully cute young man - curly black hair, grey eyes shielded by black geek glasses, freckles sprinkled all over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and he wasn't your lean muscular man - he had a bit of chubbiness to his tall frame.

Gabriel reached for my arm and pulled me into an embrace; it wasn't what I would call a lingering, warm embrace - not like the ones I had had with…

“You always have a choice, Zuri. You don't just choose them.”

I hummed. I should stop thinking about him. I have a boyfriend now, and it's not like he's gonna come back after everything.

“You know you could spend the night at my house.”

Almost instinctively, I pulled away from his touch, however careful so he wouldn't notice - as much as I didn't want go into that bungalow, my nose could barely stand another whiff of his musky scent.

“No, Gabby.” The smile on my face felt too tight. “I'll be fine. Promise to text you later.”

“If you say so then.” He flashed me a smile. “But if anything goes wrong, call me.”

“Yea.” I would rather call my best friend instead. “See you soon.”

“You too.”

I stood, watching him turn around and make his way onto the sidewalk. I didn't move until he made a left turn and disappeared from sight.

For a second or two, I still didn't move an inch. But somehow, I reluctantly brought myself to face my house, my heart thudding hard in my ears. I prayed he wasn't home despite knowing he was - he usually was. With a deep breath, my legs slowly carried me to the dainty porch. Although I wished the walk from the driveway to porch was a lot longer, I was already standing in the porch, in front of the door.

I waited. No voice. No noise.

Maybe he was asleep. Should I knock first or just walk in? Which will piss him off today?

My shuddering hand reached for the doorknob and twisted it. It clicked open. Immediately, I took off my boots and held them in my hands. Then, I pushed the door, avoiding loud creaks, and slipped in.

Alcohol. My nose cringed as I closed the door behind me.

“Seriously?” I groaned loudly, palming my forehead.

The tiny living room was a disaster - empty cans of beer laid scattered on the coffee table and floor, the couches had been shifted carelessly away from their usual positions; one in particular had blankets over it. Wait! Is that a used condom?

Obviously, my father had brought one of his too many conquests to the house.

I was about to stride over to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, however the white envelope on the coffee table caught my eye. So, I went to the table and snatched the white envelope. Noticing it was from the landlord, I immediately tore it open and peeled out a white folded paper. I unfolded the paper and let my eyes run through the black italicized words.

“What?!”

“How many times will I tell you, Zuri?”

“Christ!” I yelped, turning around and the paper fell.

And there he was; Mr. Remi Okoro - the man who was unfortunately my father. The man who managed to pull all the ladies with his bald head, onyx eyes and muscular frame, and yet somehow drove my mother away.

“I swear to God, Zuri,” His voice echoed loudly off the beige walls. “The next time you will enter this house like a thief again, I'll send you back to wherever you came from.”

“Sorry sir.” My gaze lowered to the tiled floor.

My teeth dug into my lower lip as I fought to keep my opinions at bay. I wanted to tell why I had chosen to enter without knocking. Wanted to talk about the envelope and it's content. Needed to tell him about what was at stake.

“Is there anything you have to say?”

I shook my head too quickly. “No, sir.”

I don’t want my head bitten off, do I?

“Make me some fried rice,” He sniffed, walking past me and plopping down on the couch. “And try not to be noisy about it. Samantha is asleep.”

And of course, he didn't ask about my whereabouts.

“Okay, sir.”