The Storm Bet

Rain battered the roof of the old surelure duplex in Alakumba Estate like angry fist, unexpected drops in these late time of the year. The zinc rumbled , mixing with the high hum of her neighbor generator which was already making noise before the rain started. Adetayo lay on her stomach across the bed in her second floor room , her chin propped on folded arms , staring at nothing while old Wizkid track played low from her speaker. Her room scents faintly of Shea butter she'd rubbed into her whole full body skin earlier cause of the harmattan, the kind her mother still bought from the local market in ibadan and posted in old rubber plastic containers. Outside, the window facing her was cracked open just enough for the wet cool breeze to slip in , carrying the smell of soaked laterine and frying plantain from Mama Sarah , the buka downstairs, and the occasional whiff of generator fumes from the compound. She wasn't thinking about dinner; the pot of jollof rice sat cooling in the pot in the kitchen. She wasn't thinking about the report due Tuesday or the fact that her mother had called her twice today asking the same question she has been asking for a month now in her sharp tone “ Adetayo when are you bringing someone home for Christmas” disturbing her of her friend younger sister that is planning her own child introduction. Adetayo had laughed it offand ended the call before her mother started her usual rage guilting. No. Tonight, Adetayo was ten years old again. She was thinking about a boy in a crisp white short sleeve shirt, standing under the big mango tree at Divine Mercy Stars primary school in Agege, peeling and eating groundnut from a small black nylon and laughing the loudest at something his friends said. The kind of laugh that started in his belly and then burst out like he couldn't hold it in any longer , his head thrown back while his big ears wiggle and his eyes squeezed shut. Maxwell Chukudi; Max to the whole of primary 5A class. The class teacher had introduced him as Max from enugu. He had come into the class one Monday morning with a new haircut that made his ears bigger skinny legs in black shorts and a smile that’s as bright like sunlight. He had transferred from Benin city halfway through the term. But, everyone knew the family moved from Benin city after his father was posted here. He'd been the new boy that term, arrived quiet at first , sitting at the empty desk near the window but within two weeks he was the oga of noisemakers in the class, had the loudest laugh on the playground, the fastest runner, the one who could dribble primary 6 senior boys in football without breaking a sweat and still have breath left to tease you about your plaits being too tight or your school sandals being being borrowed from twins kali; the madman children beside their school area. Even during the interhouse sports ,the time when he was racing across the field, his red house vest clinging tight to his small frame , with his legs pumping like pistons on the go . The whole hall had screamed his name that day when he crossed the finish line first. But , Adetayo hadn't screamed. She just stood there looking , heart banging against her ribs, feeling something she was too young to feel. After that, somehow he had become the centre of her universe. She once even wrote they names together in the corner of her maths textbook; Max Weds Ade MWA, then quickly scribble over it when her seatmate glanced over. She'd hang by the window during break time , pretending to read, just to watch him play striker with his friends shouting in that his thick Igbo laced voice; “Pass am na! I dey here for front!”. Adetayo had fallen quietly and completely. She never said anything beside him or sat down near him.She was the quiet one so she just watched. She remembered the first time he spoke to her direct . Assembly ground. Hot sun She'd dropped her pencil case , and he'd bent to picked it up, handed it over with a quick grin. “Careful o , fine girl” he'd teased. Her cheeks had burnt so hot she'd thought it will explode right there on the assembly ground and she'd mumbled “ thank you”. The day during Creative Arts class he caught her staring as he'd draw Messi. He’d looked up, caught her eyes, and instead of looking away she’d frozen. Then he’d smiled small “ like I know , and is okay” it felt like they shared a secret and he'd gone back to his drawing. She’d felt like she was flying. After that, every little moment got stored away like treasure. The afternoon her FanYogo melted in sun and he slide his cold one to her “ Take. I no like cold too much”. She'd replayed these particular event very much because Max had shared his yougurt with her but her inner mind just kept poking her sadly “ Max is just a giver”. How he said her name “Adetayo” rolling the ‘yo’ soft and slow like he was savouring the taste of yougurt. Then JSS1 came. His father; a police officer got posted properly in Abia and his parents enrolled him in boarding school Holy Ghost Academy, Abia . She heard bits and pieces over the years Max made the basketball team, Max had a girlfriend, Max travelled Uk with his uncle one holidays. Life pulled them in opposite directions. She grew up. Filled out. Learned how to command board meeting in ikoyi without apology. Became the responsible first daughter who sent monthly alert for her brothers up fees , Mama Bp meds. And pretended she wasn’t lonely. Dated. Chike from UNI who quoted Burna boy lyrics wrongly. Chike who mentioned marriage date like three times in a row. But none lasted. But every rainy evening like this one, the memories slipped in with the breeze. She was twenty five, gainfully employed as a content strategist for a tech startup, lived in a decent two-bedroom flat in Surulere , and yet here she was daydreaming. She knew it was ridiculous. But every few months, something triggered it a song, a smell, a random memory and she’d find herself spiralling into what ifs. What if his family had stayed? What if they’d gone to the same secondary school? What if he’d ever noticed that she liked him?. She laughed softly at herself. Mumu. Grown up woman, “get a grip” Still carrying flame from primary school crush she hadn’t seen in over a decade. Her phone buzzed on the bed. A missed call from her best friend, Chioma. She picked it up to call back when her phone started ringing again , she answered it. “Babes, wetin dey occur?” Chioma’s voice was bright, loud, typical Chioma. “Nothing o. Just sitting here, overthinking as usual.” “Again? About that your primary school crush? Chai, Adetayo, you’re not serious.” Adetayo laughed despite herself. “I know, I know. It’s stupid.” “It’s not stupid, it’s just… expired. Like milk wey don sour. You need fresh air. Fresh blood flow to that brain. Come and run with me tomorrow morning.” “Run? Chioma, you know I hate running.” “Exactly why you should do it. Clears the head. Trust me. 6 a.m. at the Lekki Conservation Centre track. Don’t give me excuse.” Adetayo sighed. “Fine. But if I die, it’s on you.” Adetayo huffed a laugh. Chioma never let her hide for long. They'd been friends since primary 3, when chioma had pinched a boy for pulling Adetayo cap from her hair. Chioma knew every embrassing details; had even found one of her old scribbled notebook pages when she wrote of her dreamy lovey dovey moment with Max and had teased her mercilessly with it for years . The next morning, she regretted everything. She pulled on an old oversized hoodie; faded black with Arsenal print on it which she had stolen from her brother Dotun years ago and laced up her nike trainers, twisted her braids into a high ponytail, no bra . One stupid run wouldn’t kill her. She stepped outside. She slipped in her earbuds, and drove to Lekki . By the time she parked, the sun was just peeking over the trees, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. Chioma was already there, stretching dramatically like she was about to run a marathon. “See this one,” Adetayo muttered She slipped her earbuds turned the volume up on some old-school Burna Boy as she joined her. They started slow more like a fast walk than a run but gradually picked up pace. The track was quiet, just a few early risers and the occasional bird call. Adetayo’s lungs burned, her legs protested, but something shifted. This was good. This was exactly what she needed. She sped up, leaving Chioma a few steps behind. The wind whipped against her And then she crashed straight into a solid chest. The impact sent her stumbling backward. Strong hands grabbed her arms before she could fall. “Sorry oh” she started. The hands steadied her. She looked up. Time did that thing where it slows down. Max. Older. Taller. Beard neatly trimmed. But those eyes same eyes. He blinked twice. “Adetayo?” Her mouth went dry. “Max?” A slow smile spread across his face. “Adetayo Adeyemi. Wow.” The hands let go of her arms slowly. She suddenly missed the warmth. Chioma jogged up, breathing hard. “Babe, why you dey run like oh.” Her eyes went wide. “Helloooo.” Max glanced at her, polite smile. “Hi.” “Chioma,” she introduced herself, grinning too wide. “Best friend and personal trainer”. Adetayo shot her a look. Chioma ignored it. Max turned back to Adetayo. “This is insane. I just moved back last year. I was literally thinking about old classmates the other day.” “Me too,” Adetayo admitted. “Like yesterday.” He laughed softly. “Small world.” “Very small.” Awkward silence for a beat. Then Chioma cleared her throat dramatically. “Well, I’ll just keep running. You two catch up.” She winked and jogged off before Adetayo could protest. Max watched her go, amused. “She’s direct.” “That’s one word for it.” He rubbed the back of his neck;nervous habit she remembered. “So you live in Lagos?” “Surulere. You? “Lekki now. Work brought me back.” “What do you do?” “ I own a Fintech Company . Boring stuff.” “Doesn’t sound boring.” He smiled. “You? What do you do these days?” “Content strategy for a startup. Also kind of boring.” They both laughed. He glanced at his watch. “I have a call in an hour, but can I get your number?". "Dinner sometime? Properly catch up?” “Yeah. I’d like that.” They exchanged numbers. He saved hers as “Adetayo Primary 5 ” She saw it and laughed. “Simple.” “Accurate.” He started jogging backward. “I’ll text you.” “You better.” He grinned and ran off. Adetayo stood there until Chioma circled back and grabbed her arm. “Details. Now.” Adetayo looked at her, still dazed. “I just ran into Max. Literally ran into Max.” Chioma screamed.