Tracy Mba
‘Tracy!’
I am jerked awake by the hysterical noise from the person that’s my mum. I wonder why she does this. At some point, it used to scare me when she shouted like that –as if the roof of the house was on fire– but now I know better.
‘Ma!’ I scream back with a murderous scowl on my face. Thankfully, there’s a wall between us.
‘Come and take your food o!’
I hiss loudly so she can hear me. Was it for food that I had to be interrupted from my daydream? When was this woman going to change?
‘I heard you.’ She calls out.
Oh, that was the plan, mum.
As I drag my feet to the kitchen, I recall my latest fantasy. Hmm…
He has very piercing eyes that draw you in. They seem somewhat witty, as though there was some mystery to them. He is tall, so tall I have to incline my head in an uncomfortable angle to look him in those eyes. His shoulders are broad and inviting, along with his chest. I smile at the thought of resting my head on them.
And then his hands! Those hands are scary as hell! If those hands ever clasped ones throat in a moment of rage, it’s goodbye earth. But if they ever carried anyone, carried me, backed up by those pulsating muscles, that’d be the safest place to be.
‘Why are you staring at your food?’
Instinctively I drop my fork and it hits the terrazzo with a clanging noise. How long have I been staring for? I pick it up and rinse it, totally ignoring my mother’s intent look. I still don’t understand why she has to make a fuss about everything.

After lunch, I lie on my bed and resume my thoughts, clasping the latest letter in between my thumb and index finger.
I’m starting to get very fond of these letters, though.
Nobody in our school could be that fine jor. If there was, where has he been all these while, and why have we not met? After all, we should not be up to hundred in the entire SS3. Besides, this dude has to be my classmate for him to know how to drop the letters in the right place all the time. But who can it be in our class? Who hasn’t asked me out already?
Mark? No. That dude is dumb. Fine face, empty head! He can’t possibly pen down well thought-out lines like that. Wasn’t it until JSS3 he learnt how to correctly spell his name. Or could it be Tubosun? That boy is like…what..21? Boy, he’s old! With all that beard, I’m sure he feels like some bad ass. Mtchew! If I find out he’s the one sending me stupid love letters, I will be so mad!
Hakeem? Naah! Ish!
Who then can…
Titus? Titus! Aww…
He’s so shy. And Titus is really smart o…fine boy no pimples. It must be him. He’s probably intimidated by me, so he expresses his thoughts on paper. It makes sense, since he has actually never looked me in the eye. How sweet! How does Titus & Tracy sound? T and T. TnT! Cuteness!
I should probably reply him. Besides, this is like his seventh letter. Let me be nice.
Tracy, give the poor boy a chance,I say to myself, as I tear out a piece of paper from my History note.
**

Hakeem Danlami
Tracy has answered three questions today, and there’s just something about the way she keeps beaming benevolently at the whole class like one that just discovered a gold mine. Is she finally falling in love with me? I dwell on that thought for a moment and it cracks a smile on my face. I notice she keeps looking in Titus’ direction, and I follow her gaze. The boy looks like he just swallowed a toad. He’s breaking a sweat and he’s gone completely ashen. I don’t understand what is going on, until I read Tracy’s reply later in the day.

X,
I’ve seen all your letters. I must say you’re one interesting fellow.
I think we should see sometime. Maybe this weekend. I’d like to have a word with you, though I think I already know you, and I think you’re cute. Yeah, maybe a little 🙂
Cheers,
Tracy.

I almost pass out!