Chapter 3: Chef Wahala and Online Gist
To tell the truth, I no too believe say Tunde sabi cook—until I see the hot, sweet-smelling spring onion noodles wey e put for table.
As e open pot, the steam rise, carry correct aroma—spring onion, crayfish, even scent leaf. My mouth water. E arrange am for one flat plate, garnish with fried egg. E even drop pepper sauce join. The pepper sauce bite my tongue, sweet and hot like mama put stew. I dey shock.
"So you sabi cook true true."
I siddon, dey feel somehow, but still surprise.
I bend leg under chair, use fork taste am. My eyes open. For my mind, I dey reason, "Na only game this boy sabi before o. Where e learn all this chef hand?"
He just laugh small. "Chop. I dey go play my game."
E chuckle, shake head. The laugh na that type wey be like say, "You dey underrate me." Then e carry him phone, waka upstairs, slippers dey drag for tile.
As I dey eat the noodles wey e cook, I dey watch as e climb upstairs.
E go dey climb step with one kind swag, phone for pocket, whistling small. I just dey look as e dey disappear for staircase. My belle dey turn, my mind dey fly. If person tell me say Tunde go cook for me, I for no gree.
This last semester, na only for stream I dey see am.
Sometimes if I miss him stream, I go dey sad for like two days. I go dey count down to the next one. My brother dey even tease me say I dey behave like Tunde wife.
Other female fans dey shamelessly dey call am 'husband.'
Some go even use sticker, dey type "Tunde my king!" I dey always dey hide for background, dey laugh at their wahala. But sometimes, jealousy dey catch me small.
But me, even to type those two words, I go just dey mute.
E dey my mind, but my hand dey shake. Wetin concern me with online drama? I just dey guard my feelings like say I be soldier for Sango barracks.
I just dey hopeless.
Na true. I dey dey wait for am to notice me, but I no fit even tell anybody say I dey crush on am. E dey pain me, but I dey manage.
He dey stream upstairs, I dey downstairs dey chop noodles, dey peep him stream for my phone.
I just lower my phone small, make the sound no loud. The image clear, I fit see the reflection of him red hair for the screen.
He just go live, fans dey ask am wetin e dey do.
Na that kind banter. Some dey talk say, "Tunde, wetin you cook?" Others dey beg am for shout out. I dey watch comments dey fly. You go hear: 'Omo, see as Tunde dey do strong head!' and 'Abeg, drop blue buff for babe now!'
Today, e no too cold like before. E just raise eyebrow, smile small: "Had to feed my guy stubborn cat."
I pause, noodles for mouth. Cat? Which cat?
E lower him voice, so I no go hear am from downstairs.
I fit hear small, but e dey try hide am. E fit dey talk for side of mouth, "Na stubborn cat wey dey form innocent."
The chat just dey ask, say which kind cute cat be that, say e dey happy after e feed the cat.
Some dey laugh, dey drop cat emoji, dey guess say maybe na new pet. I just dey smile for where I sit.
He look down, start game, smile with small mischief. "E really dey cute."
That word, "cute," just dey ring for my head. My chest dey tight, I dey hope say e dey talk about me. But I no wan hope too much.
Him voice dey enter my ear from my phone, I dey feel as if e dey talk directly to me. The way e dey bend face, e dey almost wink for camera. I dey blush like tomato wey dey hot for fire.
Which cat?
I dey look round, I no see any real cat. Na only me dey house. I even check under table—nothing.
Na only me dey house o.
I just hold my teddy bear, smile to myself. E dey pain me say nobody go ever understand wetin I dey feel for this stubborn boy.
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