Not This Time, Love Pt 27

 

“A frog does not jump backwards,” our wise folks say. I had come too far to give up now. My aim was simple: win the heart of Priscy.

Jake’s so-called revelations? Oh, they could wait. I believed in prayer and in God, but the way Jake and his prayer group kept chasing me with scary prophecies was becoming unbecoming. “Two guests cannot be entertained satisfactorily at the same time.” I was faced with two options at closing: meet Priscy or meet Jake. But “he who wants what is under the bed must bend over to get it.” I wasn’t about to sacrifice Priscy’s meeting. I wanted her to read my letter. I was sure it would work its magic.

“No matter how dark the room is, a man will always find his way to the woman’s breast.” No matter the obstacles staring me in the face, I was optimistic I’d overcome them and win Priscy’s love.

On my way back from the canteen, belly full of fruit, I ran into Slim Bee—the same guy who, with his friends, had beaten up Jake. I’d seen him around before but never spoken to him. One good look at his face, and I thought he could land a role in any Hollywood horror movie. His two brown eyes were so far apart they looked like they belonged to two different people. His monstrous nose nearly swallowed his upper lip. No wonder Priscy couldn’t stand him. I couldn’t imagine how such a scary face had the confidence to chase after a beautiful girl like her.

I didn’t bother greeting him; I was afraid his looks might infect me. I just stared, then walked away. Every ten steps, I slipped my hand into my pocket to make sure the letter was still there.

Then nature called. At the urinal, something caught my eye: the wall. Covered with scribbles. Some students advertised their street names, others wrote unprintable insults at seniors known for bullying juniors. And then, an idea struck me. Why not sneak into the girls’ urinal and write my undying love for Priscy on the wall? Risky? Yes. Daring? Absolutely. But I was desperate.

I rushed back to class, grabbed some broken chalk from the floor, and kept the pieces in my pocket. From the moment I first saw Priscy, I had stopped thinking with my head. Now my heart was doing all the reasoning. I didn’t care about getting caught. Winning her attention was worth any price.

I decided to wait. During and just after break, the urinals were always crowded. After about thirty minutes, I asked permission from the teacher to step out. The Social Studies lesson was interesting, but the urge to win Priscy’s heart was stronger.

At the girls’ urinal, I waited a good five minutes to be sure no one was inside. No one went in, no one came out. Finally, I slipped in and locked the gate. Empty. Perfect.

I pulled out the chalk, found a bare space on the wall, and raised my hand to write.

Just then, a knock came at the gate.