This was one of the few moments in his life when the smile on his face was also firmly etched in his heart. His joy was unbridled.
“Yahoooooo!” he yelped, his ten fingers firmly gripping the tiny steering wheel in front of him.
His long legs were rather squeezed and squashed in the tiny space of the small open-wheeled, four-wheeled go-kart that he was driving. Whenever he stepped into this race-car, it always felt as if his boyhood had zoomed back from the distant past. It felt as if he was playing with a giant toy car. This is one of the reasons why he loved karting. That plus the fact that he was a speed addict. While karting, he could race as fast as the tiny open car could allow without worrying that some oncoming car driving in the wrong lane could smash into him any moment.
Nyerere swerved left at a corner, quickly straightened the car then swerved right. He raced towards the place where she was seated. In the brief instant that the go-kart flashed past her seat, he turned right and waved, a massive smile sweeping over his face. Too bad she couldn’t see it, because of the mask he was wearing.
She didn’t even notice the wave, because a tiktok video on her phone was at that very moment capturing all her attention. Her eyes remained glued on the iPhone XR in her hands.
By now Christine is tired. She is done shooting herself in the foot.
The emotional roller coaster has taken a heavy toll on her and by now she is exhausted. She is done shooting herself in the foot. I have played this game for too long, she thinks to herself as she steals a glance at Nyerere. One would wonder why she is acting like this considering how transparent he has been about his intentions. I mean time and again he has told her how much he likes spending time with her. She recalls the day she finally gave him her phone number, he had been asking for weeks but to no avail. His determination however had him waiting strategically outside her Faculty just to talk to her face to face.
“All I want to do is spend my airtime on you,” he had said in his husky voice, eyes looking straight into hers. Christine couldn't help but sense a little naughtiness in the midst of his sincerity. She drained her face of any emotion whatsoever as she gave him the number only to blush uncontrollably when she told her best friend about the encounter later.
Now this is exactly what she was done with right this moment: locking her feelings in the prison whose sole architect was herself. Carefully she exited the Tiktok application, slid her phone into the front pocket of her jeans and walked over to the front seat of the go-kart. With arms wide open, she smiled exposing her fine set of teeth. “Hey darl,”she softly said.
You bet Nyerere thinks he is dreaming but he isn't. Lady on the park bench holding her phone in hand is the one actually dreaming. Day-dreaming to be precise. It's almost as if she is ashamed of herself for even imagining something so out-of-character. She looks up just in time to see him wave at her but looks back down at her phone precisely in time to act like she didn't.