Not Picture Perfect

Kayla hugged herself as she read through her chats. Her relationship was only few days old but she felt like quitting already.

She had sent Dylan a text five days

days before but he was yet to answer. She kept loading and reloading, waiting for his text, but it didn't pop up.

"Didn't he see it?" She muttered, her thumb swiftly wiping sweat off her brows.

All the messages she had sent were marked seen yet there was still no answer. She didn't want to dwell much on it but she just couldn't hold it in.

"080..." She reeled off under her breath. "Should I dial it or not" she asked her dog, Greg, patting him gently. Greg's ear perked up in response and Kayla sighed.

Why was she hurting? Her accepting him was like her gift to him, or so she thought. She had helped him out of a toxic relationship and she very much wanted to be worshipped.

Dylan picked after the third ring,

"Hey" he grunted. Kayla cleared her throat and pressed her lips together.

"Dylan, how are you doing? Just called to check on you"

"Fine." He mouthed, he probably didn't feel the need to ask her how she was doing. For some minutes, neither of them said anything.

Kayla cleared her throat again. She felt like saying there was on her mind. Like telling him she had to restrain herself from blocking him. But instead, she said,

"Have you eaten?'

"Yes."

"Are you busy?"

"Yep" "He paused for a while then continued, "Is there anything you want?"

You're busy, right?" She asked again,

picking the dirt residue in her nails.

"Yes, I am," he stressed.

"Oh okay then" she mouthed and reached for the end call button.

"Kayla what's wrong?" He sighed, Kayla could almost see him rolling his eyes.

Kayla was not taken aback by the question but it did break her shield. She once again felt like telling how being in a relationship with him sucked. That it was all out of pity.

"What's wrong?..." She scoffed, wishing she was saying it to his face. She continued,

"What's wrong is you!"

"Kayla, what are you talking about?"

"You know what? I don't feel like having this conversation." She sucked her teeth and ended the call.

Kayla kicked off her slip-ons, jumped on her bed and slipped under the duvet.

"Greg don't you look at me that way" she barred her teeth at her dog whose head was tilted sideways.

"I could have ended it there and then. How pathetic do I look now?... When next I see him I'm going to tell him how much he fucked up" she gritted her teeth, her eyes cold and blank.

She couldn't bring herself to pick his calls, read the texts he sent or call him. She grunted and pressed her face to her pillow.

**** ****

Kayla walked to his workplace in long strides, a grim expression etched on her face. She was going to make him pay.

"Hey!" She made her way to him and stood akimbo.

"Whatcha think? You think I like you, you think I care about you? Man you're so wrong"

She lunged at him, grabbing a handful of his cloth. Dylan's lips were moving but she couldn't hear him. His voice came out muffled like the voice of the people gathering to watch them. They all spoke like they had cotton in their mouths.

"I can't hear you," she shrieked as the muffled voices became louder and louder.

The loud pounding on her door woke her up from her sleep. The dream flashed before her face and she sighed in exasperation.

Who could it be? She didn't know, she had no friends and her parents had not informed her they were coming over.

"A minute please," she called out as she wiped her dog's hair off her pyjamas and smoothened her hair with her hand.

Kayla didn't even confirm through the keyhole before she opened the door. She was so sleepy that she wanted to get through with whatever it was.

"Hi" Dylan breathed out, his hand held limply before him.

Kayla thought she was still asleep, but, as though to reassure her she wasn't, the harmattan¹ wind roared fiercely; she shivered, tasting dust.

She applied moisture on her dry lips and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?"

"Kayla... I,"

Kayla tutted, her hand raised to shush him.

"Dylan... She paused, a faltering smile on her face.

'Just go away please" she muttered, stifling the yawn threatening to break loose.

"Kayla I love you" he mouthed, his eyes spoke a thousand sad things.

"I don't Dylan... I don't love you." She forced out.

She felt like telling him everything was a cruise²,that she didn't feel as much as a tiny spark for him. That she was way out of his league, that it was all out of pity. Again, when she could have spoken her mind, she banged the door on his face and rested her back on the door. Greg came out of the shadow and nestled in her arms.

Kayla laughed a little, she was already getting used to the feeling of being wanted. Of being loved. She cared and she didn't. She felt the relationship hanging on Dylan's crushed heart. She didn't know why she didn't say all she wanted to.

Maybe it for fear he'd be broken then he already was. The crushed look on his face still haunted her. She wasn't at fault, she thought. But then, she was not so sure.

She tried to know why she had accepted but she couldn't find any, not even a slight tugging at her heart. Being the sociopath she was, she dated people who had something she needed, this one was different. He had nothing to give and she had something to give.

She picked up her journal and wrote,

"This is different" she didn't care that it had ended. It really was an experience she'd wish to have again.

****. ****

This isn't part of the story

Harmattan¹ is a season in West Africa which occurs between the end of November and March. It is characterized by dry and dusty wind.

Cruise² is a slangy word in West Africa, particularly Nigeria. It means to have fun at the expense of others.