Chapter 12: 11
Chapter 12: 11
Kelechi’s pov.
I sit down on my bed and stare blankly at my now open wardrobe. I am meant to be figuring out what to
wear, but my drifting mind isn't focused on the clothes at all. I'm thinking of my encounter with Denise
earlier today when she ran into me. I was running away from a crazy girl who wouldn't leave me alone
even when I'd made it clear that I didn't want her company. What was it with girls of these days
anyways?
I don't know why I snapped at Denise. Maybe it was because I was scared of how my stomach flipped
when her hands had met with my chest as she tried to push me to get my attention. It could also be a
sort of revenge for her ignoring my existence like we are strangers. All those thirteen years we spent
together as kids just forgotten so easily. She wanted the hard exterior so she would get it. I wouldn't be
the fool throwing myself at her.
Now where did that thought come from? Fool? Throwing yourself at her?
The sound of the doorbell downstairs draws me out of my thoughts and I focus my clothes again. I
stare at the forest green shirt recalling how Olanna or should I say Denise hates the colour. Would she
be at the party tonight? What if she comes? I have to look nice for her. Look nice for her? What the hell
am I thinking? She has a boyfriend, doesn't she? After all, she can't possibly come. It's an adult party
and my mom doesn't know she's here. What if Camille brings her?
I'm still considering the possibility of Denise coming here when I hear a light rapping on my door. My
sister's muffled voice comes through the door telling me the party is about to start. I jump from the bed
like I've been stung by an ant knowing that sitting down isn't helping my thoughts. I shake my head
lightly trying to focus on the clothes.
After spending almost ten minutes sifting through my clothes, I finally find what to wear. I don't ponder
over why I'm so conscious of what I wear tonight blaming everything on my mood. I put on the black
jeans and thin white shirt topping my style with a lumberjack shirt. I run my hand through my hair giving
it that messy bed-hair look girls die for. Looking at my reflection in the mirror I smirk appreciating my NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.
efforts. I'll admit I look fine tonight. Picking up my phone I walk out the door.
The house has been transformed for the party. There's streamers and dark-coloured balloons
everywhere. The lights have been dimmed and slow music reverberates through the hall. Chairs have
been pushed against the wall and people have started trickling in. Two tables pushed up close to each
other carry the food and drinks. The food looks delicious thanks to my stepdad's numerous
professional cooks. My mom's picture hangs boldly over the doorway. He really went all out for this
party.