I heard my name… it was bold with an air of authority. The voice was unmistakable. I stopped breathing. He did too.
‘Thelma…’ he boomed again. I responded as casually as I could. He was at the window. The curtains were drawn. The room was dark but I could feel his eyes piercing through the darkness.
Sammy crawled from under my naked body and disappeared into the bathroom. I reached for my nightgown and begun the task of trying to button up as fast as I could.
I felt weightless. I felt caught!
Why is it that when the issue of cheating comes up, girls are quick to point accusing fingers at boys? In the company of our boyfriends my girls and I always put up a colorful show of how we would react should we ever catch them with another girl and even worse if we caught them in bed doing the unspeakable. Whiles some said they will cut off penises; others aimed their fight straight at the other girl.
After all Girls don’t cheat. Boys do.
If only my girls could see me now.
I had started a senseless sexual affair some weeks ago. Why? I was bored and needed something to rejuvenate the little girl inside me. Sammy and I worked together. He was cute, and careless. He smoked and drunk with jollity, his music was loud and he drove fast. I felt cute right along with him. And in spite of all the abuse he remained handsome, neat and smelled good. Boy did smell good. When he leaned in to kiss me one evening after a drop off, I hesitated for just one second.
The rest like they say happened almost every lunch time in my apartment and under the watchful eyes of my mum’s picture, which hang loosely behind my door. I only noticed her when Sammy was lying on top of me doing what he did best. And each time I solemnly swore… ‘I will lie the other way next time’.
Don’t get me wrong; my mum won’t mind that her daughter was having sex in her apartment during her lunch break. Her problem… she didn’t like the ‘Ga’ Boys and Sammy Kottey was one full-blown ‘Ga’ Boy just like my mum. My father was ‘Kwawu’ by the way. Don’t ask me which ‘Ga’ boy did what to my mum. She just didn’t approve. So my afternoon sessions were turning into full-blown fights between my ‘cums’ and my mum’s disapproving stares…
I opened the door carefully and raised my eyes. Kwesi stood next to his car. He was tall, attractive and older. We had been together for two years. Things were not great but they were not bad. Not as bad as it was about to get anyway. I kept eye contact. One of my male friends told me that was the trick to beat. When you ‘think’ you’ve been caught and remember the word here is ‘think’, keep calm, be bold, keep eye contact.