CHAPTER FOUR: On the Menu

As the Friday lectures wound down, the campus buzzed with diverse activities. The social halls were split between studious scholars buried in books and others relishing the free Wi-Fi, streaming movies, and hanging out. In the midst of this, students shuffled in and out of lecture rooms. Meanwhile, on the basketball court, the coach was addressing the players.

"Next week are the regional games," Mr. Kapala announced, slipping on his sunglasses, "you need to bring your A-game if you want to reach the national stage. Clear?"

"Yes sir!" echoed the unified response before the team disbanded.

The Regional games were the gateway to the Nationals. Then came the Inter-nationals and, for the fortunate few, the prospect of being recruited by the country's basketball teams. But before any of that lay the formidable Kichwa ngumu, the supposed nemesis to Murang'a' s basketball team, the enigmatic Jaba team. The nickname perplexed many, even the coach who disapproved of it. Ironically, it stemmed from their serious 'jaba' usage, a fact that led to raised eyebrows. As the discussions unfolded, Nigel, Jayden, and Elvis, engaged in their post-practice routine, encountered Beatrix and her clique. She twirled her hair, blowing bubbles with her gum as they approached.

"Care to join us for lunch?" Tasha asked, her gaze locked with Jayden's. 

"Will you be our delicious offering?" Elvis teased, prompting laughter from the group. 

"I'm on your menu," Riri playfully declared, addressing Elvis.

Evis and Riri had a complex relationship—friends with benefits, yet she longed for more. Elvis, indifferent to her feelings, reveled in playing with emotions, a charmer who turned love into a game. He relished the control, wielding a power that captivated many. Meanwhile, Jayden, the beacon of virtue among the group, was an embodiment of respect and decency, qualities born from his religious upbringing. His past heartbreak, a betrayal that rocked his beliefs, left him viewing women through a tainted lens, wounded and wary. The six left for Beatrix's place. Lunch went by, and Nigel, sensing the moment, attempted to leave. Yet, Beatrix had no intentions of letting him go. It wasn't long before the others realized the web they'd been caught in. Nigel attempted to excuse himself, but Beatrix wouldn't let him go. After a few minutes, the guys understood the kind of trap they had fallen into. With excuses from Elvis and Riri, Jayden and Tasha left. As they departed, Beatrix locked the door behind them and turned to Nigel with a sly smile. She had something mischievous up her sleeve. 

Elsewhere, the university was bustling. The anticipation for the regional games loomed over the basketball players. Mr. Kapala's words about the games resonated deeply with the team. Everyone knew those games were a crucial step towards something bigger—the national games and potentially catching the eye of professional teams. Nigel, Jayden, and Elvis had their own daily struggles, especially dealing with people like Beatrix. She had a habit of causing trouble, but Nigel always found a way to handle it. It was a balancing act—between basketball practice, friendship dynamics, and dealing with unexpected situations.

"Who do you think you're playing with, Beatrix?" I raised my eyebrows, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

 She chuckled softly, moving closer. "Why so uptight? You're here because you want to be." Her voice held a mischievous note that set off alarm bells in my mind.

Before I could protest further, Beatrix's sudden approach caught me off guard, and she reached out to touch my arm. "I know you miss me. Why resist?" 

I pulled away, my expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. "This isn't what I came for, Bea. I'm leaving." I tried to open the door, but she blocked my way.

"You're going nowhere." Her tone was commanding. 

I tried to keep my composure, although I felt the room's walls closing in on me. I did not want to give her the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort. "This isn't your call, Beatrix. Move aside."

She took a step back, allowing me to pass. "You'll regret this, Nigel," she said with a sly smile as I swiftly exited.

I rushed back to my apartment, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. Bea always knew how to get under my skin, and I promised myself I would not let her play with my emotions again. The atmosphere at Beatrix's was always a trap, a maze of manipulation and mind games that I wanted no part of. The incident haunted me throughout the evening, making me question the dynamics between myself and Beatrix, the chaos in the group, and my own motivations. But I was sure of one thing; I was not going to fall into that web again. For a fleeting moment, that's what danced in my thoughts—a brief daydream. The true situation dawned on me as reality snapped into focus.

She flicked on the music, letting it fill the room, and slowly began to undo the buttons on her blouse, her lips dancing between a bite and a teasing smirk. She was well aware of my vulnerability. Starring at her perfect c-shaped bosom with dark erect nipples begging to be touched made me excited. Before she could even take off her miniskirt, I already had her in my arms; her legs wrapped on my waist. I sat on the edge of the bed with her seat on my dick as she slowly grinned on me. I started to kiss her from her neck slowly to her bosom. The moment my tongue licked her nipple she let out a soft moan with her eyes shut. I licked her right nipple while my finger played with the right one. Her hands roughly grabbed my boner, then she got up and pulled my basketball shorts to my thighs; then my boxers. She smiled as she took out her panties, jumped on me and, without any notice, had me inside her. I know how impatient she is and how rough she liked it. She started to slowly move up and down as I felt the intense warmth and how wet she was. I grabbed her waist and started thrusting over and over while she begged me not to stop. I then put her on the bed and she arched her back tactfully while wiggling her huge round ass. I roughly pushed myself in and thrust so hard she started shaking. She tried to run away but I grabbed her ass in time and kept going while she moaned, grabbing the sheets.

"Nigel! "she moaned my name.

Tasha and Jayden stood in line at the food stand, the tantalizing aroma of chapati rolls, kachumbari, and sausages swirling around them. The sun beamed down relentlessly, but Jayden's tall figure cast a comforting shadow over Tasha, providing a brief respite from the heat. As Tasha observed Jayden, his tall frame and rich skin tone captivated her. The golden rays of the day seemed to highlight his features, adding an extra layer of allure. She admired him in silence, her heart responding with an excited flutter that words struggled to articulate. Feeling a connection building between them, Tasha wondered if Jayden sensed it too.

Two days ago, Tasha had visited her friend Amelia, who had recently become Nigel's neighbor. The vibrant energy of the new neighborhood intrigued Tasha, and as she chatted with Amelia, she couldn't help but notice the handsome neighbor mentioned by her friend. Amelia, in the midst of their conversation, casually mentioned, "Oh, you should see my handsome neighbor, Nigel. He's quite charming, and he has a friend, Jayden, who's just as intriguing." Intrigued herself, Tasha couldn't resist the curiosity that bubbled within her. After finishing her chat with Amelia, she felt a magnetic pull toward Nigel's place, wondering about the enigmatic Jayden. As she approached Nigel's residence, she coincidentally encountered Amelia taking out the garbage. Nigel and Jayden happened to pass by at that very moment, exchanging friendly hellos. Nigel introduced her to his friend, Jayden, with a warm smile and friendly demeanor. 

Amelia, with a playful grin, added, "Tasha, meet Jayden. He's the one I was telling you about." 

 Tasha, catching a glimpse of Jayden's captivating presence, felt a spark of interest. However, their interaction was brief as he paid for their snacks, and with a quick farewell, he left. The encounter left Tasha with a mix of emotions, the unspoken connection lingering in the air, like the aftertaste of a sweet memory yet to fully unfold.

"Can I walk with you?" Tasha asked, her eyes tracing random paths on the ground.

 "I'm a bit tied up," he replied before walking away. She watched him stride down the road before turning to leave.

Riri was arranging popcorn in a large bowl when Elvis arrived and began nibbling at her earlobe, his touch soft on her skin. She shrugged, carried the bowl to the bed, and switched on the TV. Elvis, persistent in his affections, attempted to kiss her arms.

"Can you please stop?" she said, sounding slightly irritated. 

Confused, he looked at her. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm on my period," she retorted, the words coming out with a hint of amusement. "That's what you said last week," he grumbled.

Unfazed, she continued watching, paying him no heed. He grabbed his shirt, stormed out, and slammed the door behind him. She chuckled, immersed in the show playing on the screen.

The sun hung low in the sky as Leila quietly made her way to the university's auditorium, where the orientation for freshers was about to commence. Despite the bustling crowd, she walked with an unassuming demeanor, her casual yet stylish outfit subtly blending into the mix of people. Excitement buzzed in the air, mingling with a hint of nervousness that was characteristic of the first days on campus. She found a discreet spot toward the middle of the auditorium, where she could observe without drawing too much attention. The atmosphere inside was charged with anticipation as students filled the seats, exchanging introductions and glances of curiosity. She, with her reserved nature, observed the interactions from a distance. The auditorium's walls echoed with the hum of conversations, laughter, and the occasional burst of enthusiasm. The university staff, adorned in the institution's colors, bustled around, making last-minute preparations for the orientation. She remained a silent observer, taking in the grandeur of the auditorium with its high ceiling and rows of seats stretching upward. As the orientation began, a charismatic figure took the stage; a senior student appointed as one of the orientation leaders. Dressed in the university's official gear, the leader exuded energy and warmth, welcoming the freshers to their new academic journey. She listened attentively, absorbing the information about campus facilities, academic programs, and the various student clubs and organizations. Throughout the orientation, she kept to herself, exchanging only brief smiles and nods with nearby freshers. The event was not only informative but also served as an opportunity for her to observe and understand the dynamics of the student body. Amid the laughter, applause, and occasional cheers, she felt a sense of invisibility settling in. As the crowd dispersed, she decided to take a moment to herself. She found a quiet corner near one of the exits and observed the mingling students. In the midst of the post-orientation buzz, she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the upcoming semester. After this brief respite, she headed home, her steps echoing a rhythmic cadence on the familiar pathways. The sun cast long shadows as it began its descent, casting a warm glow over the campus. Along the way, she passed by a small shop run by an elderly couple, known for their delicious cold yogurt. The simplicity of the shop and the warmth of the couple always added a touch of comfort to her routine. As she decided to treat herself to a cup of their renowned yogurt, the coolness of the treat offering a refreshing contrast to the mild warmth of the evening, she strolled towards her residential building. The day's events replayed in her mind, weaving a tapestry of thoughts and worries that lingered. An undercurrent of unease crept in, fueled by a haunting concern, the fear that the he-devil might trace her. The shadows seemed to take on a life of their own, and a subtle paranoia whispered in her thoughts, urging her to glance over her shoulder, half-expecting to find the lurking presence of her pursuer.

As Leila recovered from the unexpected collision, she couldn't help but steal a lingering glance at the departing Elvis. His facial features, though framed in an aura of detachment, left an indelible impression. His eyes, a deep shade of hazel, held an enigmatic depth that stirred a curiosity within her. They were windows to a world she couldn't quite fathom. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the mysterious allure that lingered in their gaze. A well-defined jawline traced the contours of his face, contributing to an undeniable sense of masculinity. It was a chiseled feature that suggested resilience and determination, qualities that stood in stark contrast to the casual rudeness of their encounter. The lips, firmly set, betrayed no hint of a smile. They held a certain stoicism, adding to the air of mystery that surrounded him. Perhaps it was the unyielding nature of those lips that contributed to the unexpected allure she found herself drawn to. As he walked away, Leila couldn't help but notice the veiny, manly neck that extended from the collar of his shirt. It carried with it a certain ruggedness, a reminder of the tangible physicality that contrasted the detached demeanor he had displayed. Despite the rudeness of their brief interaction, Leila found herself involuntarily admiring the unique composition of features that defined Elvis. It was a silent acknowledgment of the intriguing complexity that seemed to be concealed beneath the surface, a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

As Elvis briskly walked away, leaving Leila to contemplate the intriguing collision on the stairs, he couldn't resist throwing a parting remark over his shoulder.

 "What were you even thinking, walking like you own the place?" he muttered, a hint of irritation coloring his voice. 

The words hung in the air, a question that demanded no answer, as he continued his hasty retreat. Leila, left standing on the stairs, watched him disappear around a corner, his presence lingering in the atmosphere like an enigmatic echo.

I left Beatrix's place around nine in the evening, despite her pleas for me to stay. The shops were winding down, their shutters closing as I navigated the streets filled with couples, some oblivious to the fact that they might be living their dinner date. Making a pit stop at my favorite "Mtura" vendor, I indulged in the savory delight as I strolled my way back home. The night carried a different weight, a mix of weariness and the lingering flavors of the evening.

As I reached my doorstep, a peculiar sight awaited me. There stood Amelia, a silhouette in the dim light, her posture conveying a mix of discomfort and worry. Dressed in a denim miniskirt that hinted at the night's chill, she paired it with a black leather jacket that adorned her figure. A crotchet strapless crop top completed her ensemble, a stark contrast to the cool night air. I approached, and our eyes met, a flicker of relief evident in hers. It seemed she had lost her house key, leaving her stranded outside her door. 

 "Amelia, what happened?" I inquired, genuine concern cutting through the weariness in my voice. A blush touched her cheeks as she explained the predicament.

 "I can't find my house key, and I've been waiting here for a while. It's freezing."

I suggested, "Why don't you crash at my place for the night? We can figure out how to open your door in the morning."

 Her eyes widened in surprise, the unexpected offer catching her off guard. The moonlight painted a delicate glow on her face through the wide-open window, revealing the mix of emotions - surprise, gratitude, and a hint of relief. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded, accepting the offer.

I stood in the sanctuary of the shower, the warm cascading water acting as a soothing balm for my weary soul. The rhythmic drumming drowned the day's troubles, offering a brief respite. However, tranquility shattered abruptly as a woman's voice, charged with fury, sliced through the air, repeatedly calling my name. "Nigel! Where the hell is he?" Amelia's attempted interjection was swallowed by the relentless tirade. "And who do you think you are? Huh!" Recognition struck like a bolt of lightning — Zara. What in the world was she doing here? Hastily, I turned off the shower, cocooned myself in a white towel, and stepped out of the bathroom. There she stood, a baseball bat clenched in her hands, the very image of readiness for a confrontation. The fact that she had kept silent after our breakup had surprised me, but this was the Zara I remembered: the unpredictable, irrational force of nature. Her intoxication was evident, accompanied by the cheering presence of her friend, Maya, urging her on.

Maya, with an amused grin, seemed to be reveling in the chaotic spectacle that Zara was orchestrating. I raised an eyebrow, bewildered by the unexpected intrusion and the theatrics that accompanied it. 

 "Zara, what on earth are you doing here?" I asked, trying to maintain a semblance of calm.

 She shot me a venomous look, the fiery determination in her eyes undeterred by my question. "You thought you could just break up with me and move on? No way, Nigel!" 

 Her words were punctuated by a menacing swing of the baseball bat through the air. I glanced at Amelia, who wore an expression of sheer disbelief, caught between the desire to diffuse the situation and the spectacle unfolding before her. 

"I suggest you leave before things get out of hand," Amelia cautioned, her voice steady but laced with concern. 

Zara, however, seemed impervious to reason, fueled by a mix of emotions that danced on the edges of intoxication and heartbreak. "You think you can replace me? I won't let it happen!" 

Maya whispered something into Zara's ear, and they exchanged a conspiratorial glance. Suddenly, Zara charged forward, brandishing the bat like a weapon. I swiftly dodged her erratic advance, leading her away from the more delicate furnishings. 

"Zara, this is unnecessary! We can talk about this like adults," I pleaded, attempting to reason with her. But reason seemed to have abandoned her in the haze of the night. The chaotic scene unfolded further as Maya continued to goad her friend on, reveling in the spectacle of a dramatic confrontation. The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable, as the unexpected showdown between ex-lovers played out in my living room.

Amidst the chaos, Zara's sudden shift caught me off guard. The baseball bat dropped to the floor with a resounding thud as she crumbled into a sobbing mess. It was a stark contrast to the aggressive stance she had maintained just moments ago. Maya, looking somewhat remorseful, rushed to Zara's side, attempting to console her. 

 "I loved you, Nigel. I thought we had something real," Zara lamented through tears, her vulnerability laid bare for all to see.

 The intensity of the situation took an emotional toll on everyone present. Amelia, still bewildered by the sudden turn of events, watched the unfolding drama with a mix of sympathy and confusion. 

"I never meant to hurt you, Zara," I confessed, my voice carrying the weight of regret. As Zara continued to pour out her heart, it became evident that beneath the facade of fury and aggression, she was grappling with the pain of a broken heart. The raw emotion in her words echoed through the room, momentarily silencing Maya, who now wore a more somber expression. Realizing that the confrontation had reached an impasse, I decided it was time to de-escalate the situation. 

"Look, let's not do this here. I'll call an Uber, and we can talk on the way home."

 Zara nodded, her tears still flowing, and I quickly reached for my phone to arrange transportation. In the quiet moments that followed, the tension in the room began to dissipate, leaving behind a sense of emotional exhaustion. The Uber arrived, offering a temporary reprieve from the tumultuous scene that had unfolded in my living room.