Trouble sometimes starts with love but doesn’t end there. Bidemi Adeoti had fallen in love with the girl he ran into in the Library and fate was making him return there again, within five minutes of their encounter. He forgot his phone at the top floor of the library, where he was charging its battery.
He was almost at the door of the library when he remembered he didn’t pick his wallet. His library card was in it, and, without which, he wouldn’t be allowed to enter the library.
He dipped his hands into his pockets to be sure that he was not with his wallet and hissed angrily as he jogged down the stairs.
Luckily for him, an acquaintance had agreed to hold his bag for him. He would have regretted forgetting his phone because he would have to go through the process of putting his bag in the bag-room, go the fifth floor, and return to pick the bag.
‘Abidemi Adeoti’, a well-known voice said as he got to the round-about that was between the faculty of arts and its annex
Bidemi stopped in his track. He would have dared running in pretence that he didn’t hear the voice but he knew better.
This voice had sent many ladies away from his side, from staring at him, from talking to him: The fear of the owner of this voice was the beginning of wisdom for ladies. He wasn’t sure of what she wanted around him at that time. Her presence meant lust for him.
She loved to seat beside him in classes. And no other lady must try that. The only girl that wanted to do otherwise was raped outside the university the same day.
Normally, he didn’t take her presence by his side serious until two weeks before. She rubbed his male organ in the class. He flung her hand away. Immediately, someone tugged his collar. He looked back to see one of her friends holding a biro-like knife to the back of his neck. He had to comply with her. But after that class he had always sat at the front. When he first met her in his secondary school days, Jss3, she was a gentle girl.
Her name was Grace. Grace Ademola
What did she want?
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