Tolu stirred awake, blinking against the daylight sneaking in through his curtains. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up—1:52 PM.
He groaned softly. 'Great… half the day gone.'
Rolling out of bed, he tugged off his shorts and pulled on a pair of long trousers. After a quick stretch, he shuffled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to shake off the last bits of sleep.
Back in the kitchen, the familiar smell of fried oil and seasoning still lingered faintly. He opened the pot, grabbed a leftover chicken lap, and sank his teeth into it, chewing as he slipped on his slippers.
With his stomach partially satisfied, he headed for the door. Time to face the afternoon.
Tolu messaged Leke: On my way. Usual spot?
Leke replied almost instantly: Of course. Where else?
The "usual spot" was nothing fancy, just a small kiosk tucked by the junction. The kind that sold everything from chilled Coke and pure water to cabin biscuits and airtime cards. It had two wooden benches out front, uneven from years of use, but to Tolu and Leke, it was theirs.
That was where all their talks happened—football banter, gossip, fights, heartbreak stories. If you wanted to find them outside school, you didn't need to ask twice.
Tolu arrived at the kiosk, spotting Leke lounging with a bottle of malt like he owned the place.
"Guy, you dey always late," Leke teased as Tolu sat beside him.
"I had to eat first," Tolu muttered, ordering a Coke. He cracked it open and took a sip, then leaned back casually. "So… nothing weird happened last night? At the party?"
Leke squinted at him. "Weird? No. Why, what are you talking about?" Then his grin spread. "Oh wait—don't tell me. You already messed it up with Ore, abi? Did you fuck it up?"
Tolu rolled his eyes. "God, no. Things are fine." He paused, lowering his voice. "What I actually wanted to ask… how did you know what happened at the lake?"
For a second, Leke looked caught off guard, but then he plastered on a smile. "Guy, I was just forming. You know me now. Sharp mouth."
Tolu wasn't buying it, but he let it slide. Instead, he smirked. "Alright, then tell me—what plan did you pull to get Amaka laughing like that? Don't say vibes."
Tolu is stunned, asking "How did that even happen?!"
Leke explains with a smug grin "Well… I might have nudged Dayo's elbow so he spilled his drink on her. Then I might have been standing in the hallway where she went to clean up. Oh—and I might've just happened to bring a spare jacket. And, you know… a couple snacks. For two. No big deal."
Tolu can't believe it. It sounds like fate, but clearly, it was Leke's carefully staged setup.
Tolu stared at him. "That's your grand plan?"
Leke lifted his malt like he was toasting. "Bro, it worked."
Tolu shook his head, chuckling. "You're unbelievable."
'Unbelievable doesn't even cover it. How does he sit down and plan these things like it's chess? And the scary part is… it works.'
Leke leaned back with a satisfied grin, raising his malt bottle like it was champagne. "Guy, we ought to celebrate. As of last night, we both left the singles league. We are no longer boys… but men."
Tolu almost choked on his Coke, laughing. "You make it sound like we got promoted."
Leke leaned forward, his grin widening. "No, think about it, bro. We're in a new era. No more standing on the sidelines while everybody else is paired up. From now on, everything changes."
Tolu raised a brow. "You're sounding like a motivational speaker."
"I'm serious!" Leke slapped the bench. "First of all—double dates. That's mandatory. Imagine: me and Amaka, you and Ore. Movies, restaurants, even that new arcade place. Vibez arcade."
Tolu sipped his Coke slowly. "Double dates sound like a headache waiting to happen. What if the girls don't vibe?"
"They'll vibe," Leke said confidently, like it was law. "Second rule—no more wasting weekends doing nothing. Bro, we have girlfriends now. That means trips. Beach days. Pool parties. Maybe even sneaking out of town if we plan well."
Tolu shook his head. "You want to get killed by your parents? Pass."
"Abeg, small risk is what makes life sweet." Leke leaned back, counting on his fingers. "Third—matching outfits."
Tolu blinked. "Matching… what?"
"Outfits!" Leke repeated, grinning. "Like same color scheme, same sneakers. When people see us and our babes, they'll know we're official."
Tolu stared at him. "…You've completely lost it."
Leke burst out laughing. "Okay, okay, maybe not matching. But at least take good pictures together. Couple pics are like proof, bro. If you don't post, people will think you're lying."
"I don't even post myself, now you want me to post someone else?" Tolu deadpanned.
"Exactly! That's how you'll know it's serious," Leke said.
Tolu sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "Fine. Maybe one or two pictures. Private ones. No Instagram."
"Baby steps," Leke said, pretending to write it down. "Next—anniversaries. Don't forget them. Monthiversaries too."
"Monthi—what?"
"Monthiversaries. Every month, you have to mark it somehow. Even if it's just buying her puff-puff or sending a sweet text."
Tolu chuckled. "That one I can manage."
"Good man." Leke clinked his malt bottle against Tolu's Coke. "Last rule: always, always back each other up. If you're in a fight with Ore, I support you. If I'm in wahala with Amaka, you support me. We move like soldiers."
Tolu smirked. "Soldiers don't usually plan fake drink spills just to get girls."
"Strategic soldiers," Leke corrected proudly.
Tolu shook his head again, laughing. "You're unbelievable."
"And you're welcome," Leke said, reclining smugly. "Because this is only the beginning."
They were still laughing when Tolu's phone buzzed on the bench. He glanced at the screen, and his chest tightened just a little. Ore.
Leke noticed immediately, smirking. "Ahh, lover boy. Don't leave us hanging—what did she say?"
Tolu unlocked his phone, pretending to be calm, and read the message.
Ore: We need to see tonight.
His brows pulled together. "'We need to see tonight'…?" he muttered under his breath.
Leke leaned in. "We need to see? Guy, that sounds serious. Did you do something?"
"No," Tolu said quickly, typing back. What time?
A moment later, her reply came through.
Ore: Around 10.
Tolu stared at it, his drink suddenly tasting flat. 10 at night? He rubbed his temple. "That's… oddly specific."
Leke nudged him with his elbow. "Bro, don't overthink it. She probably just wants to gist or… you know…" He wiggled his brows.
Tolu shot him a look. "It's not like that."
Leke grinned, unconvinced. "Sure. Just don't chicken out. Whatever she wants to talk about, meet her. Girls don't text you at 10pm to discuss mathematics."
Tolu pocketed his phone, trying to calm his racing thoughts. But in his head, the words echoed like a bell:
We need to see tonight.
Leke leaned back on the bench, finishing the last sip of his malt, then gave Tolu a look that was way too serious for him.
"As your best friend," he said, pointing the empty bottle like it was a warning, "I'll advise you—be prepared. And by prepared, I mean bring protection."
Tolu almost choked on his Coke. "What?!"
Leke spread his hands innocently. "Bro, I'm just saying. It's 10 at night. She said we need to see. That's not 'let's meet to discuss our biology assignment.' That's… vibes, bro. Strong vibes."
Tolu shook his head, flustered. "No, no, no. Ore's not like that. She wouldn't—"
"Not like that?" Leke cut in, smirking. "Guy, every girl is 'not like that' until it happens. And you'd rather be the guy who's ready than the guy who's shocked, trust me."
Tolu rubbed his forehead. "You're overthinking this. What if she just wants to talk?"
"Then you still win," Leke said smoothly. "Because you'll show up prepared, like a responsible man. And if it's talk, you stash it away, no wahala. But if it's not talk—" he leaned in, lowering his voice, "—you'll thank me later."
Tolu groaned, covering his face. "You're unbelievable."
Leke clapped him on the back. "And you're welcome."
They kept bantering, their words bouncing back and forth like a game they'd been playing their whole lives. Leke teased, exaggerating stories about all the girls who supposedly smiled at him that week; Tolu countered by reminding him of every time he'd embarrassingly struck out.
They argued about football—who really deserved to win the Champions League last season—then switched to music, trading playlists and debating who dropped the best album of the year.
Every now and then, Leke circled back to Ore, throwing in sly remarks and wild suggestions that had Tolu groaning and swatting him on the shoulder.
"You're too paranoid, guy," Tolu said at one point, sipping his second Coke.
"And you're too naïve," Leke fired back, laughing. "Balance it out small!"
The hours slipped by unnoticed, the sun slowly dipping until the kiosk's small bulb flickered on, casting a weak glow over the benches. Eventually, Tolu checked his phone and blinked. "Six already?"
Leke stretched, groaning dramatically. "Ehn, time flies when you're grooming young men into real men."
Tolu shook his head, standing. "You're not grooming anybody. Let's go."
They left the kiosk together, parting ways at the junction with their usual handshake and jokes, each heading down his street toward home.