Chapter Twenty-Four – Sex For Grades

Have you been in trouble so deep that all you see is black? The sun could be shining bright, but all you see is black. You may go out with friends and do all the things you love to do but all you see is black.

This was Mara. She was in trouble so deep that luck would need a flashlight to find her. This trouble was deeper than the hole through which Alice in Wonderland had fallen. This was Mara in troubleland.

Mr. Mintah had asked her to see him after class where he proceeded to make some inappropriate advances. I prefer not to go into the explicit details but he touched her front, her thighs and had a phone call not intervened, he might have gone a step further.

Mara had come out of the office as white as a ghost and she didn’t speak to any of us all the way back to the hostel. We were all going to Carl’s room to relax but she blew us off saying she had a headache.

She cried into her pillow like a baby. Who was she going to tell? Her parents? They would be angrier that she failed. How was she to get support when she had willingly walked into Mr. Mintah’s office both times. He hadn’t forced her and when he gave her that A, did she report it? No.

She would have spent the night crying into her pillow had her roommate not asked her to vacate the room to allow her to have a conjugal visit. Having nowhere to go, she decided to join us in Carl’s room.

The last time we had all been together like this, Kwame and Lara’s secret was exposed and well, the rest is in season 1.

The boys played uno while we all sat about. “Mara are you okay?” I asked. She nodded her head and smiled gently. I decided not to press the issue because I had concerns of my own but Lara saw the lost and distant look on Mara’s face after the smile disappeared.

Boateng asked that we go and get drinks for everyone so we left together. Even though they weren’t on the best of terms, Lara and Mara were left together.

“Are you sure you’re good?” Lara asked again. She had been fighting with herself for a while on whether or not to ask the question but she had been around enough troubled people to know that she had to.

“Yeah” Mara said. She was deep in thought. At first she had been thinking of a way out but after today, she was contemplating resigning herself to her fate of probably having to sleep with Mr. Mintah to make it out of the university.

That was all until a thought hit her. In thinking of who she could tell, she was undecided. If she told me, I would only show her sympathy and my loyalty to Lara would mean her secret would no longer be one. If she told her roommates, they would only spur her on. The one person she could count on for help and understanding was Lara.

Lara was a brave and bold girl who’d gained all her experience from having two older sisters. It sharpens the mind and trains you to play the game of men.

“Lara, please I really need your help” Mara whispered.

They both looked at the boys who were deep into their game. They excused themselves to the balcony.

“Please, don’t judge me. I failed Mr. Mintah’s course so I went to see him and he said he’d help me. Then he took my number and started sending me inappropriate texts and having inappropriate conversations with me. See them. Today, he touched me. I don’t know what to do.”

Mara burst into tears, wheezing and wailing at the same time.

Lara didn’t really comfort her. She held the phone in her hands, scrolling through the conversation. When she was satisfied that she had seen it all, she now hugged her.

“Don’t cry. Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

Mara looked at her face expectantly.

“It won’t be easy, but unless you want to be this man’s sex slave for the next three years, this is what I’ll need you to do and I’ll be here to help you in every step of the way.”

Oh, we love an ‘enemies to allies’ trope, especially when it involves two strong women.

*

As Boateng and I walked, I decided it would be a good opportunity to apologize for telling Marilyn about his parents’ divorce. He told me it was okay and that it was a good thing since it helped them to talk some more.

“Why didn’t you tell her though?” I asked.

“I don’t even know. I guess it was easier telling you.”

“You need to work on your communication skills.”

“Yeah. You too.”

“Me too?”

“Yeah. You and I are not that different, Araba. You’re never really real with yourself or your feelings.”

“How do you mean?”

“The only reason you’ve been single all this while is not because you haven’t met someone you liked. It’s because you didn’t want to open up yourself to your feelings.”

I hated to admit it, but Boateng was right. Sly was right.

The briskness with which I walked to Sly’s room was outstanding. Perhaps, if my career in finance doesn’t pan out, I might consider entering the Olympics as a speed walker.

I banged on his door so violently, my knuckles hurt for a long time afterwards. He opened the door confused, thinking he had done something wrong. I didn’t even wait for him to let me in. I was bold now and if I waited another second, I might not be.

“I want you to know that I like you. I like, really, really, really, really, like you. I think you’re so smart. I like that you’re so caring and hardworking. You’re a really great listener which is good because I talk a lot. You’re also so handsome, like Chris Hemsworth kind of handsome. Only that yours is more realistic. I think you’re very funny, not as funny as me but funny enough. You get me? You get who I am. You get my jokes. You get me. I love being around you so much that it hurts because I’m trying to be absolutely perfect.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding in. I felt better; so much lighter. At the same time the fear of rejection was painfully present as I waited for Sly’s response.

"You don't ever have to be perfect with me".