The Soles Of Damini Manor

CHAPTER 26: UNREQUITED LOVE

Kola

There are about thirty-seven people in the school's gym, but I'm trying not to think about it.

Green and white backdrops depict the Nigerian flag, coupled with patterned banners, twinkling lights, well-lit gold chandeliers and students dressed in suits and Ankara print dresses. Unlike the usual photobooths at my middle school's dance, Iroko has a green carpet rolled out where students can walk hand in hand with their dates before pausing to be personally photographed by a professional.

Terna was absolutely right, this entire event is childish. It's my and Yvonne's turn to take our pictures, and I escort her to the carpet before stepping away from her for the photographer to get his shot. He takes about twenty six shots before she instructs him to pause.

"You don't want any pictures?" she asks, sounding like a concerned mother.

I've never liked my picture taken, but I do enjoy having someone paint me. There's more depth in paintings than there is in pictures.

"I'm good. It's your time to shine," I assure her, hoping she drops it.

As someone who is used to being the center of attention all the time, Yvonne doesn't bother to persuade me and continues to assume other poses to show off her nice frame in that green dress. That stunning green dress.

I think I've gotten a grip on my feelings for her. She's my first crush, but I know it will never work out between us. Unlike Kanyin and Terna, we're polar opposites who happen to have intelligent conversations and enjoy each other's company. She looks at me like I look at her, with admiration. But we need to communicate our feelings to figure out where we both stand.

I glance down at my shoes, loving the way it's been obedient so far.

Yvonne and I walk past Deb, who's rambling to my calculus teacher, as we make our way to the dance floor. A slow song is playing the moment we step into the dance floor before completely switching to what Yvonne calls Afrobeats.

I'm not sure whether I can dance to this, I have no prior knowledge about these shoes.

Yvonne clearly doesn't know how to dance to this because her feet are glued to the ground as she awkwardly sways from side to side.

"We can go sit until we get a different song," I offer, gesturing to the benches near the green and white backdrops.

Her hands wrap around my neck, pulling me to her, and my entire body is buzzing with alertness from our proximity.

"You know," she drawls. "The song playing is by Wizkid. My Mom would have called this a bop, yet we want to sit through it...how ironic," she says over the music.

I don't know where my hands should be, so I place them lightly on her rather wide hips, being as respectful as possible.

"You look nice tonight," I compliment. This is the first comment I've made about how good she looks, and it took a lot of courage to get that out. She's well aware that she looks great. I don't feel like I have to tell her.

"Thanks, Damini. You don't look too bad yourself," she points out, tugging on my tie for emphasis and causing my grip on her hips to grow firmer.

The DJ pauses the music getting everyone's attention. "We're switching things up to the nostalgic hits. We need the teachers to join in the fun," he announces, dropping a beat to a song I don't recognize.