Chapter 4: A broken lips

1902 Words
“The worst wounds, the deadliest of them, aren't the ones people see on the outside. They're the ones that make us bleed internally.”          - Sherrilyn Kenyon Arsala's POV I'm at the library to borrow some books. Unfortunately I'm not familiar with the E-library database or how it works. I'm working on a research paper which is due in a month's time. So I decided to start my search on books, PDF, journals or articles I could use to cite my work. 20 pages, yes my instructor gave me a 20 pages research paper to work on. When I tell people AUN stress the life out of me. They are like nahh its a private university and they pamper you all. People who make such  comments aren't even schooling in AUN. All they do is stereotype based on what they think they know. Personally I feel that's stupid and unreasonable. I picked out the first book on the dark age I saw on the bookshelf. That would be of great help since I'm writing on history and philosophy of science. I need at least one or two more books I could borrow. I couldn't find any on the first row of the bookshelf so I went to the second. Going through the books, hoping I could find at least one or two more books, I felt a presence by my side. I didn't bother to look up I know who is by my side because his cologne lingers in my nostrils. Its a scent I'm already getting familiar with. "Hey cupcake." His voice finally broke the silence. "Don't call me that." My voice bears a cold edge, I look up and meet his face. "But it suits you so well." He pouts. "When I said to not call me cupcake I meant it." My voice sounds threatening and nothing compared to my usual tone. He stays silent, with his height towering over me. It did nothing but made me look like an ant in the lion's den. "You have.........." Before I could complete my sentence, I noticed a deep cut on his lips. The cut is more like he got into a fight with someone and was given a punch to last him a lifetime. "What happened? How did you get that cut on your lips? Does it hurt?" The cut is a bit deep and the skin around the cut is swollen. "Its nothing." He shrug it off, staring at me like an alien from a different planet. "What do you mean by its nothing?" I raise a brow at him. "Does it hurts? I could accompany you to the school clinic to get that cleaned up." I look closely at the cut and it cut looks fresh. "The cut looks fresh, did you just got into a fight?" I ask looking at him with worried  eyes. His gaze is fixated on me and he isn't answering any of my questions. With every second that went by I felt uncomfortable with his stare. "Come on, let's go to the....." "Why do you care? Its not like we are friends or family." He interrupt me before I could complete my sentence. His words were like needles pierced into my heart. I swallow a lump stuck in my throat. "Yeah, we are neither friends nor family." My voice comes out shaky. I turn to leave because my concern wasn't appreciated. Before I could do that he quickly grab me by the wrist. "Hey..........." "Let go off me." I demand sternly staring at him. "It wasn't my intention to hurt you...." "Keep your explanation to yourself!" I grumpily snatch my hands away from him. "Come on, I really didn't mean to hurt you." He pleads. "Save it. Twice! we met only twice and each time you had something hurtful to say." I stop to catch my breathe, I feel so pissed off. "I'm sorry." His tone is low. Staring at him angrily, I realize he has the most beautiful set of muddy brown eyes I had ever seen. "Those words don't work on me. Thanks for helping out the other day, I hope we never cross path again." I push the thought I was having about his eyes away and sternly reply him before walking away. Going through the bookshelf at the other end of the library I found another book of great importance. The revolution of the earth. I added it to the books I'm holding. "Annoying brat." I mumble to myself. Damn Imran! "Arghhh." I groan out in frustration. I hate you Imran for ruining my mood. I hope we never cross paths again. I hiss under my breathe. I walk back to the front desk, Mr josh the librarian, a man in his late fifties or early sixties. I could Tell from many strands of white hair. Mr josh has been the librarian for as long as I can remember. "Good morning old man." I greet him while a mischievous smile plays on my lips. "You won't budge?" He chuckles while gently shaking his head. "Nope." I burst into a fit of laughter. Mr josh and I made a deal during the first week of resumption. Which was for me to stop calling him old man a nickname I came up with. The name came up when we were arguing about white hair and the reason for it's growth. I said a lot of factors come to play but mostly genetics. He was bent on stress being the leading factor. I always love arguments and anything related to theories, hypothesis and experiments. The deal was if I was able to prove to him that genetics was the main factor and not stress I win. But if he prove stress was the main factor of white hair I have to stop calling him old man. I won I was able to prove it scientifically that genetics is an important factor causing white hair  and stress play a little role. I'm so sticking with calling him old man, beside we both form quite a friendly bond with each other. "I give up." He raise his hands in surrender. "I guess I'm the last man stand." I place my hand on my chest, faking sadness. "You always find a way to light up my day." He chuckle a bit. "That's because I'm a gem." My voice bears a bold confidence. "Yes you are. So how can I help you today? We have to make this quick its all most time for my lunch break." His serious and professional face is back on. "I need to borrowed this books for some time." I hand the books over to him. "For how long?" Looking at the books name and numbers he asks. "For the next two weeks." I reply using my fingers to count the estimated days. "Give me a moment." His eyes were now glued to the computer screen. To keep myself busy I was just gently tapping my fingers on the counter. "Unfortunately you can only have these books with you for a week. Someone else already asked to borrow by then." He say apologetically. "A week!!" My voice came out a little loud which earn me glares from everyone around. "Sorry." I apologize for my outburst. "Its okay." He took out a sticky note to write down something. "Here you go." He hand the books over to me with the sticky note on the front cover of one of the books. "Send a mail to that mail address, asking if he could help." He said gesturing to the sticky note. I look at the note. "imran.sadiqkhan@aun.edu.ng" My heart did all kind of somersault. Imran again? There is a possibility its a different Imran and not the rude brat. Who keeps ruining my mood and day every time we cross path. "Thank you." I force a smile. "Have a great day." Mr josh smile warmly back at me. Making my way towards the staircase.  Why do we keep on crossing paths? I ask myself. Stop exaggerating, there is a possibility he isn't the Imran you know. I scold myself mentally, I over think things. . . . . . . I'm at the dorm to visit Maryam, yes we made up. She apologize for what she did and said a year back. I felt she sincerely regret everything she did, so I forgave her. Laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling. My favorite thing to do whenever I'm stressed out. I really don't want to cross path with Imran but I need that book.... "Hey!!!" Maryam yell out, waving her hand in front of my face. "What's wrong?" I snap out of my thoughts. "I was saying something important and you weren't listening." She furrow her brows at me. "Sorry, what was it were you saying?" All this thinking is making my head ache. "There is gonna be a pool party on Friday at the club. I need to see someone and you have to accompany me." Her face is in her wardrobe, she is searching for something, I guess. "I'm not going, I don't fancy pool parties." I try to quickly dismiss the topic. She took out a veil form her wardrobe and walk towards me. "Hamza would be there." "How is that my problem?" Sarcasm lace through my voice. "Look! I just need you to accompany me." She ignore my sarcastic attempt to piss her off. "I haven't spoken to him since we resumed this semester." "So, how did I come into the picture. Besides I don't remember saying I want to see him?" I'm being cold with her, no doubt but its not my fault. The hamza topic she brought up ruin my mood. "All I need is you to accompany me. Who knows, Maybe you might finally cross path with someone who can spice up your boring life." A smirk is plastered on her face. A pathetic attempt of payback for my sarcastic remarks earlier. "My life is perfect just the way it is." I force a smile. "Whatever. You're coming with me right?" She asks again for the third or forth time. "Nope, beside Haider won't let me." I'm running out of excuses to give and I know she isn't one to back off, not until she gets what she wants. "Tell him we're going to get pizza." "I'm not lying to Haider." I do tell lies at times, Astaghfirullah. Lying to Haider is a risk I'm not willing to take. "It won't be a lie because we're actually going to get some pizza." "I have a bad feeling about this." I groan out in frustration. I'm out of tricks and I don't know what else to say just so she could drops the topic. "Stop over thinking. The party is gonna be fun and I get to see Hamza." She squeal happily. "Um......" I'm heisting, knowing I'd be in trouble if Haider finds out. "Come on, I'd be your personal chauffer." She pleads. "You tell hamza whatever it is you have to say then straight back home." I sound like a mom stating the curfew time for a teenager. "Okay I'm cool with that." She had this wide smile on her face. I just hope this doesn't blow up in ours faces. If it does I'd be so screwed. . . . . . .
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