Chapter 6: Summer Hustles and Lingering Guilt

Next day, as hangover dey clear, my mind dey pepper me. My head heavy, like say I chop yam without water. I dey remember my drunk drama, I dey knock my head like say I fit press delete. Shame dey catch me, my stomach dey turn.

I open WhatsApp, dey stare Halima chat. I dey reason whether to apologize—if I even get that kind mind. But every time I wan type, my finger go heavy. Last last, I no fit. If she remember, I go beg. If she forget, I go bone, no talk. The fear just dey my body. Me wey sober, no get liver to confess.

All morning, I dey wait for wahala. But Halima no message, no talk to me at all. She just dey move like nothing happen. Maybe she forget. I just relax, try force myself cool down, but my mind no gree rest.

Soon, my cousin call. “Guy, abeg, come Palm Lounge, pretend be my boyfriend. If you run am well, 5k for you.”

I no even think, sharp reply: “Deal.”

“Dress fresh.”

I laugh. “That one na extra money.”

She hiss. “Fine, add 3k. Just rush come!”

“I dey come.”

I arrange myself, use small perfume, press my best shirt. I rush go Palm Lounge, play loving boyfriend, help chase her toaster commot. She order malt, I go for small stout—no be every time man go form big boy. I follow her laugh, do like say we dey date. My acting skill no get rival.

I go house, 8k richer. Small hustle, small enjoyment. But my mind still dey Halima. The kiss I thief still dey haunt me. Na so guilt dey work.

For days, my heart dey beat, dey fear say Halima go show one day come drag me. But two weeks pass, she no ever reach me. Maybe she really forget. I sef no get liver to message her, so the matter just die natural death. Summer go on, I spend time for my aunt place, sometimes pretend be boyfriend for my cousin, sometimes for my senior cousin own. Money dey enter pocket, but Halima gist still dey my mind. Na so life balance.