Not long had the drive started then the heavens decided to release its contents. The dark and heavy clouds Yasmin noticed earlier on her way to the eatery had indeed been pregnant with rain. Yasmin said a silent Alhamdulillah for if she had insisted on not accepting the ride, the heavy rain that poured hard on the roads and everything in sight would have drenched her to the skin.
Thankfully, the windows had been winded up, so there was no way the cool air outside would blow the rain in. It could get really cold soon but at the moment the temperature in the car was high and Yasmin exhaled releasing an air she didn’t know she was holding when Damola reached to turn on the AC. She hoped he didn’t notice but just then he turned towards her and her heart skipped a beat and her body demonstrated it.
“Are you okay?”
He asked worry etched on his forehead.
“Uhmmm”
She nodded. Swallowing hard the saliva, she had held in her mouth, too afraid to swallow. Too afraid to move even, lest her movements will give her away. Give away what was playing in her head.
“You should relax, you know.”
“I'm relaxed.”
She quickly said.
“Are you?” He chuckled.
“I know we didn’t start on the best of terms but trust me I'm no serial killer or kidnapper.”
“If you were, I wouldn't have accepted to ride with you.” She pointed out to him.
“Aha, the longest you've said since you got into the car.”
She smiled at that.
“Heartwarming”
She looked at him as if to ask what was but didn’t voice it.
“You have a beautiful smile.” He answered even when it was just her eyes that did the questioning.
“You should smile more often.” He added.
“Who said I don’t?”
“That’s not what I recalled, the few times we talked.”
“We talked only twice. This is the second time.”
She corrected him. She didn’t know why she had to do that but she just did. I must stop now. She took her my of their discussion and focused on raindrops on the glass of her door. She noticed the rain has reduced to drizzling. It had just been a few minutes ago when the rain started heavily but now only traces in form of large muddy puddles told the tale of a heavy downpour.
“So you are keeping count of the times we talk?” Damola asked amused, his eyes still on the road.
“Not more than you noticing the absence of a smile on my face.”
She replied quietly, still looking at her window side. She recognised the road to a turn, she usually took on her way to work.
“Are you always like this?”
“Like how?”
“Fiery. Always with an answer at the tip of her tongue.”
She smiled but didn’t answer. There was no need. He already formed an opinion of her.
“Do you mind?”
She heard him ask and was forced to turn and look at him. One of his hands was still on the stirring and the other quickly scrolled through a list on his phone, maybe a song list, as he occasionally looked up at the road.
She shook her head. It was his car after all. He could do as please, so far she gets home in one piece. In a few minutes more, she will be off his vehicle.
He finally stopped on a song and he played it. Yasmin expected one of those popular Nigerian songs or maybe foreign songs from famous musicians to blast out of the car speakers but instead came the sweet voice of Nana KD, a female Nigerian musician of Hausa descent known only in a few places in the northern part of the country, hardly known anywhere else. But how is this possible?
“Took me a while to dig out the original.”
He said breaking her out of her thoughts. A knowing smile played on his lips and instantly she knew he knew even without saying any more than he did.
God, who is this man? She found herself thinking. I should have refused the lift. He could be a stalker. Different images of how badly the ride could end fluttered through her mind and she shook.
Never, ever accept a lift from strangers. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind. But he’s known at the restaurant. She told herself. How well do they know him? A tiny voice asked before it continued in a cold tone.
That’s what that internet girl thought, till her chopped body parts were found in a gutter. She shivered at the thought of the same fate befalling her.
Damola noticed her trembling and wondered if the AC was too much. It was perfect in his own opinion.
“Should I turn the AC off?”
But Yasmin was far too gone in her thoughts to care what he was saying. She noticed that the vehicle had turned away from the usual path she would follow to her house. This road no longer looked familiar.
And she blurted it out before she could stop herself.
“Please, stop the car!”
...to be continued.
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