Read Parts 1,2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8 of the Pristine series herehere  Here Here here hereherehere
Here  here and here


It was the last CDS meeting before the batch B passing out, and Environmental CDS members had assumed Dara would take up Chika’s position, being the Vice President and already familiar with the president’s roles. She declined, however, giving a busy schedule as excuse, what with her private tutoring and heavy workload at the school.

After the election meeting, Chika caught up with her on her way out and asked, puzzled, “What was that about? You know you deserved to be president.”

Dara smiled. “Well, I’d rather spend my time grooming kids to be smart enough so they know not to litter the environment in the first place.”

“I just hope that decision had nothing to do with me,” he said, arching a brow.

Uju walked up to them then. Playfully pulling Chika’s hand, she asked Dara, “Can I steal him for abit?”

Dara shrugged, mumbling, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Dara, please don’t leave yet, we’re not done talking,” Chika said as Uju pulled him away.

Dara continued walking. The sun was scorching and her phone was ringing, but all she wanted to do was walk. It had been months, why did it still hurt so much that he chose Uju over her each time?

The phone wouldn’t stop ringing, so she picked up and hissed angrily, “What is it? Look, there’s nothing you can say to make me change my mind so just don’t bother!”

There was a pause, then a confused “Hello to you too. Change your mind about what, though?”

Dara frowned, confused too. She hadn’t bothered to check who the caller was, she had simply assumed it was Chika. She apologized, embarrassed, “Sorry, I thought it was someone else.”

Amused, Tayo asked, “Am I calling at a bad time?”

“Just not having a good day,” she told him quietly.

“I figured. You sound like someone’s pissing you off. Where are you?”

“Leaving CDS. Headed home. Around Kasuwa.”

“I’m not at work today because I have malaria. And I’m making myself some get-well-soon soup,” he said. “Want some?”

Dara chuckled. “Over the phone?”

“Well, if you asked nicely, I could allow you pay me a visit.” She hesitated, so he added, “You sound like you need to talk, I’m offering you a listening ear plus a plate of soup, that’s all.”

She thought about it for a second. “You can tell me how to get to your place. I’ll just get home and change from my uniform. But you know these tricks of yours are getting old, right?”

He laughed. “I’ll be expecting you.”

When she showed up at his door about an hour later, they were both dressed in similar blue jeans and tees, and she told him, “You look younger.”

He frowned, smiling. “Is thirty really so old?”

“Yes. To a twenty-one year old.” She covered her face with her hands. “Now I feel so small.”

“Come on. It’s only almost a decade.” He grinned.

“Only?! At your age, I hope to be married with two kids—Are you married?” She quickly asked. It hadn’t occurred to her before that he might be.

“Not yet. But you’re about to taste the best soup ever. I boiled some rice to go with it,” he told her as he fetched the plates.

Dara suddenly stiffened as she watched him dish the food. He must have noticed, because he asked, looking at her with concern, “Are you okay?”


She nodded.

“Then why aren’t you talking? I’m the sick one here, remember? We agreed I was only going to listen.”

“Thanks,” she smiled as he handed her a plate. “It’s just…the last meal I shared with a guy didn’t end so well. I couldn’t help but remember.”

He took a seat beside her on the couch. “What happened?”

“He-he tried to kiss me.”

Tayo shrugged. “He must’ve been a healthy young man. Can’t blame him.”

Dara stared at him, astonished. “Seriously? You’d do that too?”

He shrugged again and replied with a straight face, feigning seriousness, “Well, we both know how you’ve asked me for some favours in the past, so of course I would if you begged me to.”


She rolled her eyes at him, smiling.







To be continued....
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Morountodun is a writer and a microbiology ‎ graduate of University of Ilorin.
Twitter: @Morountosweet




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