Eight.

Sundays were crazy back in Nigeria, and they were still the same here. We had the first service, the second, the third, then I had choir meeting, and the teen fellowship meeting. And now, getting back home, I had to prepare for the night vigil my dad had organized.

I pulled my hair back in my usual high puff, I had been contemplating on getting braids and applied some powder on my tired face.

I diffused a sigh, and asked God to give me the strength and energy to make it through the night without fainting.

"Eva !", My mom called from downstairs.

My voice was hoarse from all the singing I had done today when I responded.

"Coming".

I threw my sweater into my bag in case the night got colder, and made my way downstairs. My mom was at the corner, her phone glued to her ear as I entered the living room.

"Good Evening Ma", I greeted Mrs Johnson, Keith's mother, who had been coming to our house almost everyday for the past two weeks. It's surreal to think we've been in this foreign land for two weeks already.

"Good Evening Eva", she responded with a bright smile on her face, a face that reminded me too much of the unbeliever whose room was opposite mine.

After that day he had taken me shopping, I hadn't seen him again. Countless times I would draw up my curtains, and peep through my window if I would find his light on or see him but I never did. I stopped when I overheard his mom telling my mom he had gone to visit a friend of his.

"Are you excited for the vigil ?", She asked, enthusiasm dripping through her tone.

My lips rose to a fake smile, and I decided not to respond. Saying yes was lying and a sin, saying no was worse because my mom would instantly conclude I was possessed by the devil himself.

"Okay", my mom said to the other person on the call before she hung up.

"Alright, let's go", She told us, saving me from Mrs Johnson's question.

I didn't know where the energy to walk out the door, and into the car came from but I was able to.

***

It's barely been three hours, and my eyes were dying to be shut. The drama group were acting out their written drama, about a girl that was possessed by an evil spirit and I didn't know which worse, their acting or the script.

I drew the jaw of the person that had been invading my thoughts lately, to keep myself from falling asleep. More than once the old woman sitting beside me would look at me like she couldn't believe that the pastor's daughter was drawing during service.

I really didn't care. The pastor's daughter was extremely tired, and this was better than falling asleep in church.

I started drawing his braids, trying as much as possible not to make a major mistake because I was using a black pen, and didn't have anything to use to erase the mistake.

Ten minutes later, the drama group were done with their disappointing drama, and I joined the rest of the congregation to clap for their awful performance I stopped watching a long time ago.

"Somebody shout hallelujah !", One of the pastors announced, as he took over the stage.

"Hallelujah !!", The church shouted.

"If you are happy to be alive, I want you to jump as high as you can, and shout hallelujah unto the God of all creation !", He continued.

I dropped my church journal where I had been making my own creation, and joined the rest of the church to jump and shout.

"Praise the Lord !".

"Hallelujah !", The church chorused.

"You can all take your seats, as we welcome our resident pastor to deliver the word of God to us tonight", he said, and walked off.

Everyone clapped, and I clapped louder because of course; that's my father.

"Listen all the seats there are taken, where are you even going to ?", It sounded like the usher posted a few seats away from where I sat.

I flipped the pages of my book till I got to a fresh page ready to jot down what God was going to tell us through my father.

"Keith ! Why won't you listen ?".

Keith ?

I looked behind to the direction of the usher, and lo and behold; Keith was in front of her walking with his hands shoved in his faded blue jeans.

"Keith you're distracting people", she said, keeping her tone low and hastening her steps to match his long strides.

He didn't pay her any attention just kept moving his eyes through the rows of seats almost like he was looking for someone. Then his eyes landed on me, and his lips rose to a small smile.

I looked away my heart pounding fast in my chest.

Didn't he travel ?

"Keith the guy sitting there will soon be back", the usher said, frustration clear in her voice.

His wonderful scent invaded my nostrils as he plopped down on the seat beside mine. I swallowed.

"Well if he does, then be a sweetheart and give him his bag ", he told her, and turning my eyes to him, he shoved the bag that the person that had been sitting beside me left on the seat into the usher's hands.

She was red with fury, and he genuinely looked like he didn't care.

He faced me, "Hi".

My cheeks heated, and I looked down at my book before replying, "Hi".

"You are an annoying human, you know that right ?", The usher said, capturing the attention of everyone close enough to have heard what she had said.

"And you look sexy as hell in that skirt. Damn, have you been working out ?", He retorted.

Her eyes went to me, before she scoffed and walked away with the bag of who had been sitting here.

"Fucking asshole", she mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for a few people to hear. Including the old woman who was sitting on my left.

She did the sign of the cross, and pressed her lips to her bible.

"Why did you take this seat even when you were told someone was sitting here ?", I queried.

"The only way I can survive the remaining hours of this service is if I stayed with someone interesting", he answered.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just stared at the page of my book, which was still blank.

Wait ... He said someone interesting.

Did he find me interesting ?

"So wassup ?", Keith asked.

I stared at his gorgeous face. Under the bright bulb light, his eyes looked an intense green. It always interested me how they could change color like that. I noticed his hair wasn't in twists, just pulled back in a bun. So it was his natural hair after all.

"Uh", I shook my pen in my hand, "I'm fine. Your mom said you left ".

He groaned, and ran his hand down his face. "I had to, my father was driving me nuts with all his bullshit ".

" Oh", I exclaimed, even though I wanted to ask what happened.

I shook my pen in my hand again. I could see my dad's lips moving, his left hand in the air as he empathized his every word. Every word I wasn't paying attention to.

"My dad's preaching now, we should uhm ...", I ran my tongue over my lower lip, " We should pay attention".

He chuckled, " A polite way of telling me to shut up".

" No, that's not what I meant".

He gave me a smile, " It's cool. Let's listen to the word of the Lord ", he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

I shook my head, and gave my father my full attention.