Crush Chronicles

My grandpa was quite the ladies man. Infact, according to my grandma, on the first day that they met she had been sent to the market to buy some supplies. On the way she met my grandpa who had just returned to the village and he started talking his way into her heart, he was so good such that my grandma not only never made it to the market but also never slept home that day. I inherited my granpas name but definitely not his “conquering” skills.

There is nothing worse than growing up as a shy introvert; you even have to reherse on how to respond when the teacher calls your name while marking the register.

Everyone surely has or has had a crush and I dont see a reason as to why I should be an exception. I had this crush from my class who would literally make my heart skip a beat when I saw her. She was the ultimate picture of perfection, nice body, nice teeth, long slender fingers that looked so fragile that I feared even a strong handshake could break them and the finger nails, damn! A girl with such delicate fingers definitely did not come from Kamenya village deep in the pockets of Nyanza where she wakes up in the morning to go weed the sugarcane plantation that stretches as far as the eye can see. Definitely not the kind of fingers that could pull a determined calf from the cow’s overbearing breasts and definitely not the kind of fingers that can “dwalo” ugali meant to serve twenty hungry farm hands. But I loved the fingers anyway.

The thing about having a crush is that you always crush on someone who seems to be totaly out of reach and way out of your league, damn, you are not even sure whether they know that you exist. And this was the case with my crush, she was this outgoing girl who hanged out with the cool kids and was always onto the latest form of fashion and with that unforgiving foreign accent that you are not sure where it originated from. While here I was, the crushee, an introvert who hanged out with no one in particular, doesnt give a rats ass about fashion and speaking in an accent that is surely not from the lakeside but also not from the posh estates of Nairobi, lets not even try to say it was imported.

One month into crushing on my crush(see what I did there?) we finally crossed paths by fate, ok we did cross paths everyday since she was my classmate but this doesnt count when it comes to the crushometre. One day in class the lecturer decides to give us group assignments and thank God she decides to put us into select groups, otherwise I would have done a last minute rush looking for a group to join. So out of sheer luck I get to sit in the same group as my crush, have you ever had that feeling where happiness and panic decides to make out in your stomach? It was one of the most tense moments of my life as we stood there, just the two of us in a corner in class while waiting for more people to join our group. I didnt even know the right posture to stand in before this goddess, heck, I didnt even know the kind of smile to give her.

Finally the last members of our group joined us and I was both glad and angry at their appearence; glad because they had helped breaked a tense moment between us and angry because, well, couldn’t they see we were having an intimate moment as a couple? She was automatically made the group leader and soon a piece of paper and a pen surfaced for her to jot down our names. In such scenarios I always stay silent untill the last name has been written down then say or most preferably write down my own name. I was therefore shocked when I heard someone ask me what my last name was, I tried to ignore the question but my first name had clearly been said out.

“Huh?”

“Your last name, siko sure na spelling yake.”

OMG, did you see that? Right there infront of me was my crush asking for the spelling of my last name, to mean she already knew it but since she knew how sensitive I am when it comes to how my name is spelled she had to just stay on my good side. I looked down onto the piece of paper and right there, standing boldly in the most amazing handwriting was my own name Apollo. And no, she did not get the spelling wrong unlike some long time friends who either write my name with “double p” making it seem like a mixtape from a village Dj or miss doubling the “L” in my name, saitan! I wished I could just snatch the piece of paper and frame it in gold.

We scheduled our first meeting for the next day and that morning I spent more time scrubbing myself in the bathroom. When going to such events make sure you are in your best birthday suit, not the one with a fake black layer! I dressed carefully and smelled great as I walked to the meeting venue, I did not even want to step on some stones; you know how the enemy works in mysterious ways. I got to the meeting ten minutes late, on puropose of course, only to find her not in the group. My dissapointment dashed from 0 to 100 faster than a porsche. The meet was a sulky one and ended with me being selected as the “typist”, I made sure everyone contributed printing money before I agreed to take on the role, except her of course.

Back to my room here I was busy typing away the group work when a stray message landed on my phone.

“Hi, ushaanza kutype the assignment?” it was from her.

Although I had saved her number like two months earlier, this was the first time Safaricom made a connection between the two cells. I counted up to 80 before replying, you dont want to seem desperate on your first reply.

“Yeah, I’m on it now.” I finally sent it although I had composed it a full minute earlier.

“Ok, coming over to help. Your room number?” she replied instantly.

I almost threw my phone, where did an innocent phone like mine learn how to lie so well? I double checked the message and after confirming it was from The-one-and-only I texted back with my room number and immediately got into action.

Within two minutes I had changed my sheets and spread all my roommates beds. I quickly mopped the room, something my roommates had been unable to make me do, and sprayed my cologne over the room. I rearranged all the tables and ensured that my roommates books that undermined my course were all locked away. I then selected my favorite music album and lowered the volume to the most romantic point.

Minutes later I heard a soft knock on the door and knew that my Cinderella had arrived. I flew to the door, composed myself then openned it slowly. And right there by my own door step stood the girl who had been most elusive when it came to my room, the uji girl. She stood there smiling and asked me if I wanted some porridge, I felt like smacking her right accross the face but then I remembered how that porridge had delivered me safely to Canaan during my financially lowest levels and decided to take a mug, just for old times sake. She poured it generously and hardly had I set it ontop of my desk than my crush came marching into the room.

She made a quick scan of the room before hugging me, she smelled nice and I made sure to take in enough to make a permanent mark in my brain, not that I didn’t already know her scent. It was one of the warmest hugs ever in the history of mankind, surpassed only by the first hug between Adam and Eve. She did not even wait for me to show her where to sit but perched herself on my chair.

“I hope you are done typing that thing, I’m too tired to do any typing right now” then what the hell brought you here in the first place? I’m tempted to ask in a cheeky voice.

“Eeer, no. I was just getting started” what the brain thinks and what the mouth says are always completely different.

“I’ll read, you type.”

“Works for me”

And so we started typing together- something like that. After a few minutes we were sitting so close to each other I could feel the warmth radiate from her skin. We made some pauses to sip my porridge and sing along to my playlist. We made stories way after we were done with the assignment and my roommates walked in on us when she was laughing her head off and her head on my shoulder, I knew I had a long storytelling session that night and I sure wasnt going to dissapoint.

This is how the discussion went- at least according to the story I gave my roommates.

After the arrival of my roommates the romance in the room sizzled down and she asked me to escort her to her room as it was already dark outside. It was one of the most romantic walks in my life as I kept feeding her stories that would set her off in laughter then back at me with soft pats as she told me how stupid I was. Have you ever been called stupid in an angelic voice?
It is always such times when your feet seem to swallow the distance in wholesale and soon we were at her doorstep. She threw another one of those warm hugs on me again then said to me, “I never knew you were this funny, we should hang out sometime. Im sure my friends will like you too.”

So here I was walking back to my room with the warmest hug still covering me and I had just been asked out by my crush. That night I ate chocolate!