The Death of Vivek Oji(36)

Footsteps came down the corridor; then Elizabeth appeared, hazy behind the green mesh of the mosquito net. She was wearing shorts and a singlet, as tall as she’d ever been. Juju stood with a polite smile as Elizabeth unlatched the door.

“Good afternoon,” she said, wincing a little at how formal she sounded. “I’m Aunty Maja’s daughter?”

Elizabeth stared at her for a moment, her face blank, and Juju stared right back. She remembered Elizabeth’s face, but back then Elizabeth had been a lanky, dark-skinned child with threaded hair and puffy dresses. Now she had shaved off her hair, and Juju felt herself staring at all that skin, from her scalp to her arms and legs, even the smooth cleavage that the singlet couldn’t quite cover. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Juju blushed.

“Oh, Aunty Maja,” Elizabeth finally said, after a forever of staring silence. Her voice was deep and sweet. “You’re Juju. Come in.” She moved aside to make space and Juju tried to walk through the doorway, but it was impossible to do so without brushing against Elizabeth, who didn’t move. She just smiled and looked down as Juju squeezed past. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, and Juju wondered if she heard a trace of amusement in her voice.

“You, too,” she said.

Elizabeth latched the door again and led them into the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”

Her question seemed to come from a great distance. Juju had been watching her legs, the smooth bulge of her calves, the soft places behind her knees, barely paying attention to what she was saying. She had been looking at girls that way, with an interest in the texture of their flesh, for some time, but she was always afraid that they’d catch her and see into her head, into the places even Juju was a little scared of seeing. So she avoided Elizabeth’s eyes, in case Elizabeth saw how much she wanted to put her mouth on the back of her neck. She looked up, down, over at the kitchen tiles, anywhere but directly at this tall and beautiful girl. Later, once they were together, Elizabeth told her it was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. Juju had expected to collect the guavas and leave, but somehow she was answering yes to the glass of water and then they were talking and it was a few hours before she finally left with the fruit.

The next time they’d met, Elizabeth had come to Juju’s house, bringing jam jars for Maja, who insisted that Juju invite her into her room, thinking they would become friends.

Elizabeth kissed Juju for the first time that day, quickly, on her way out.

“You don’t need to be so afraid,” she’d said. “I like you, too.”

And that was it, that was how Juju got a girlfriend.



* * *



—

I think you’re great with Elizabeth,” Vivek was saying, his long limbs splayed across Juju’s bed. “Do you think you’re doing a bad job at it?”

Juju rolled over to her side as well, facing him. “I don’t tell her everything,” she said.

Vivek looked at her, and his eyes were soft and dark pools, floating under long lashes. “We don’t tell anyone everything,” he said gently. They were lying close enough that Juju could feel his breath drift against her cheekbones. Suddenly the air seemed full of secrets, an iridescent bubble surrounding them.

“What are you not telling me?” she whispered, keeping her voice inside the bubble.

Vivek reached over and stroked a thumb across her cheek. “I tell you everything,” he said. “It’s other people I don’t.”

“You don’t tell Osita everything?”

His eyes dropped briefly to her mouth. “No,” he said, after a pause, dragging his gaze back up to hers. “Not everything.”

Heat rushed to Juju’s face. She’d thought he’d forgotten—almost thought it was a dream she’d had—what happened the morning after Osita came looking for Vivek at her house. Juju had given the boys their privacy, minding her business, trying not to hear anything that was happening in the room across the corridor. In the morning, she’d woken up early and made some tea, then sat at her bedroom window, looking out at the birds in her mother’s garden. When her door creaked open, she already knew it was Vivek. He’d come up to her window seat, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before he sat next to her, tangling his legs with hers. He was shirtless and he smelled like sex. Juju leaned forward and kissed him for the first time, her mug of tea between them, her breath sharp and sweet with mint. She wasn’t sure if it surprised him, but Vivek had kissed her back, his morning breath sour on their tongues before he broke it off and nipped his teeth against her nose lightly. “Good morning,” he’d said, taking the mug away from her and sipping at it, his hair tousled and dark. He looked out of the window and the morning sun hit his face and Juju wondered why she’d just kissed him. Maybe because he had been hers and now she knew he wasn’t, or perhaps he had never been. But Vivek never mentioned the kiss, and even now Juju wasn’t sure if he was hinting at it or if she was imagining things.

“What do you keep from Elizabeth?” he asked.

“I don’t tell her about you and Osita.”

The corner of Vivek’s mouth tugged up in amusement. “Why not?”

“It’s none of her business, and you know how she is about you.” It had taken Elizabeth a long time to forgive Vivek for what happened in the boys’ quarters with Osita years ago. Juju had to explain the fugues over and over, explain that Vivek hadn’t known what was happening, that he couldn’t even remember it. “And you know how she is about Osita. I just—I don’t trust her to not be somehow about the two of you being . . .”