Welcome to the short story series today we are featuring a New Writer with the pen name Scarlett Writer…
A STUDY IN STUPIDITY
Wind whipping his face, he tugged on her arm as her red top billowed. She tugged her arm away, squinting at the vast expanse of water before them, ignoring him.
He sighed in exasperation. “Stubborn girl, when will you answer me?”
“Stubborn boy, when will you stop smoking?” She asked, finally turning to look at him. His face morphed into an expression of anger and he shouted “I don’t smoke! I don’t know what you want from me! I really don’t!”
And turning, he stalked away. Tears filling her eyes, Andrea watched his lone figure, clad in cerulean blue, knowing by the slump of his shoulders that he already was sorry, despair pooling at the pit of her stomach, she whispered past the clog in her throat; “Stupid boy, why do you let them destroy you?”
How they met…
The intricate designs of pale lime climbers on the deep blue vase gave it an interesting look. A wrong look .
This isn’t how it was supposed to be.
When Tunde had called her over to his house to hang out, she’d thought it would be a friendly outing.
When he’d moved close to her on the couch, she’d thought he wanted to tell her something.
When he hadn’t moved away, a prickle of alarm had risen in her belly.
And when he’d looked at her pitifully and knelt down, begging for her to kiss him, she’d known she was in trouble.
Now, as he kissed her neck, she fixed her gaze on the dining area, willing herself to stop shaking.
She looked at the used plates she’d stacked, intending to wash, until he’d taken her by the hand and led her to the orange couch they were currently sitting on. She hated orange. Another wrong thing.
She flinched as he nipped at her flesh, her reaction encouraging him as he peppered kisses all over her neck and chest.
“let’s be friends.” He’d said.
Never would she believe those words from a member of the male species again.
Why? You would ask. Why, if she didn’t want it didn’t she just push him off her?
Her body had filled with lead, fear paralyzed her as she cursed herself for being so weak.
Then, the plates started to go out of focus, the red ceramic color meshing with the white tablecloth.
“Did you drug me?” she asked, shaking outright. He stopped and looked up at her. And smiled. She could’ve died of shock.
“Just a little precaution, in case you decide to withdraw consent.”
She sat there, ice in her bones. “Why?”
He looked genuinely puzzled, then uncomfortable. He scratched his head. “Sorry.” He said.
“You still want to, don’t you?” he looked at her pleadingly. “I hate forcing my way in.”
She blinked, wondering if he was stupid or crazy.
“You… drugged me.” “I really hate that word”. He said and sat back on the couch.
But she wasn’t done.
“And – and – you’re threatening to rape me if I refuse to sleep with you.” Her voice was shaking with rage and fear. Rage at herself for being a fool, fear because it was obvious the guy was insane. She was breathing heavily now, head spinning as her vision blurred.
He laid a warm, strong hand over her weak, clammy one. “ I really like you. You’re so calm. Some other girls would scream or try to hit me, but you…”
Suffocating, black spots dotting her vision, she thought she would pass out.
A firm knock pervaded her senses. Thinking it was a side effect of the drugs, she was surprised when his hand left hers and he lifted himself from the couch and walked to the door, she watched him, this tall, dark, handsome specimen of man, the stuff that man crushes were made of- a bloody monster.
He opened the door halfway, as she half sat on the couch, rendered useless from the drugs and fear, her brain feeling like cotton wool.
Her eyes were already closing when she felt a hand clamp down on her arm. She flapped her other arm uselessly as she looked up at the new person. Him and Mr Monster were cut from the same cloth. Tall, dark and handsome. She giggled. Vicious MCM ‘s. A needle of fear picked her. What if they wanted to gang rape her? She tried opening her useless mouth, but she couldn’t as he scooped her up, a tangle of useless limbs and carried her out the door as she faded out of consciousness.
She woke up to bright lights and a man in white coats saying ; “Are you awake, Miss….”
She was discharged that very day and as she wore her shoes, he walked in.
Her heart pounded as memories flooded her. “You took me to the hospital?”
He shrugged. It was him. Mr MCM. “Dare,” he said putting out a hand. “Dare Akintola. I forgot to give you your bag.”
Her stomach churned as she reread his message.
I’m sorry. It simply said.
This was not an apology for his outburst. A simple text message like that would be grossly insufficient. This was a week later and he was canceling their date.
Hanging out with the boys? She replied and tossed her phone off her bed and proceeded to strip off her clothes. The creak of the door sounded as Matilda walked in, holding freshly washed dishes.
It was clear as the eye could see – the dress difference between the two roommates. Matilda was dressed in shorts and an oversized T-shirt for a night in.
Matilda’s eyes widened with wonder as she saw her roommate.
“Are you not going out again?” she asked.
The girl sat down on the bed. Hard.
“He cancelled, Matty.” She sighed.
Matty quickly dropped her dishes on the table and scrambled to sit by Andrea.
“Again?” she asked, unnecessarily.
“Again.” Andrea repeated.
She lay down, back to the bed and stared at the ceiling.
After much prodding, Dare had told her the truth. He’d been house sitting for his cousin, and while preparing for an evening game of tennis, had heard their conversation from the soft part of the wall dividing the houses. Under the guise of retrieving something of his cousin’s, he’d been able to rescue her. The drugs had reacted badly in her system, inducing convulsions at which he’d promptly rushed her to the hospital.
And here we are now. She thought, as she drifted off into a dreamless slumber.
She tottered on her heeled boots as she came down from the cab onto the dirt road. She could hear her heart pounding as she walked towards the police station. As she walked in, she could feel the musty air- the heaviness that told of too many bodies in too little space. She found the attendant- a stern faced woman in rumpled uniform.
“I’m here for Dare Akintola.” She puffed out.
Her legs shook in her black boots as she waited for him. Finally, she saw him in a flash of soiled white shirt and grey pants. He stopped just a feet short of her, suit jacket over his shoulder as they just stared at each other, messes in their own way.
She squirmed inwardly under his intent gaze. She’d finally removed her killer heels and was standing barefoot in her yesterday’s clothes- a club worthy short, flared black dress. Her makeup- professionally done- although still beautiful, was the same from the night before. And her hair had refused to be tamed.
“Thanks for bailing me out.”
“Yes,” she said, nervously. “Your mom called and I-”
“You look beautiful.” he cut in, still staring at her with a mesmerizing intensity. “Not mine anymore.” He said, lower. Not low enough. He nodded and walked past her. “Thanks anyway.”
“I heard what happened,” she turned after him. He froze. “Your friends-”
“Not anymore. But,” he said, staring out in front of him. “That doesn’t concern you anymore, does it? You know, since you broke up with me?”
“It was precisely a month ago, remember? You should be happy you dodged a bullet.”
His words stung. “Dare-”
“My so called friends set me up. Is that what you want to hear? You were right – happy now?”
“ NO. That’s not what I want to hear. What I want to hear, is that you’re alright. I drop everything to come here and this is all I get?” she was furious now. “Now I remember why I broke up with you, and you know what? I’m glad I dodged that bullet!” she spat venomously and walked away.
“Stupid girl,” he whispered. “ I’d destroy you.”
Eight years later….
She sipped her drink as she listened to the man across her.
The buzz of her phone turned her smile into a grimace.
“Probably work. I’m sorry. We just hired a new director and-”
“It’s fine.” He said, amused. “I’m lucky I haven’t been called yet.” She left the table and clicked answer without checking.
“Hello? Is this Andrea?”
Fast forward five minutes and she did not want to believe her eyes. Dare?
She refused to believe that the guy affianced to Mariah was her ex boyfriend.
But when he looked at her and said nice to meet you, she knew she was in trouble.
Her long lost friend, whom she’d just reconnected with was marrying her ex boyfriend.
She could feel his eyes on her.
Stupid girl, I’d have destroyed you . They said.
Author: Scarlett Writer