There was a bit of uncomfortable silence stretching between us. Clearing my throat, I forced a smile and asked, "Hey, Gracie, you’re already done?"
"How'd the sales go?" Carol added, still trying to calm herself.
Gracie forced a smile in return, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Not bad," she said, her voice quieter than usual. "I mean, not fantastic, but not bad." She shifted the bag on her shoulder, the weight seeming to pull her down a little more. "Listen," she began as she started walking in, then hesitated, her gaze flickering between me and Carol. "Maybe this isn't the best time…"
"Nah, no worries," Carol interjected, her voice soft and inviting. "Honestly, I was about to head out anyway. We were just, you know, getting to know each other a bit."
"Right," Gracie mumbled, her eyes still flicking between us both. "Well, that's… great." There was a forced cheerfulness in her voice that sounded a little off.
I felt a hint of disappointment, but I didn’t dare show it.
"Maybe I can walk you guys to clabu get a smoothie or smocha?" I suggested, hoping to ease the tension and prolong the connection I'd felt with Carol.
Carol glanced at me, winked and then turned back to Gracie with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Actually," she started, then paused, as if she were weighing her options. "That sounds… nice, actually. Unless you have other plans, Gracie?"
Gracie seemed surprised but blinked at Carol anyway, then at me and said, “perfect." A genuine smile, this time reaching her eyes.
“Just a minute I save this video,’ I said, placing the laptop on the table and adjusting my sitting position. To make the environment friendly, I started playing “Favorite song” by Toosi.
“I’m on stage right now, singing your favorite song looking through the crowd and you are nowhere to be found. I say, you look good without no make-up...”
Gracie forced cheer as she started singing along but beneath, a storm raged as each beat echoed the hollowness she felt inside. It wasn't just the disappointing sales; it was the crushing weight of a shattered heart.
Just a few minutes ago, the world had seemed so perfect and cool. The sun had cast a warm glow on everything, even the dusty and usually dark corridors of the hostels. She'd been her usual optimistic self, humming along to the same favorite song as she knocked from room to room. Then, fate. Or karma, (who we say is a bitch), or perhaps some cruel cosmic joke, had led her down to the washroom to relieve herself, despite this being a men’s hostel and having sworn to herself not to ever use them unless the urge was irresistible.
There, in the dimly lit washroom sinks, she'd seen him. Kanga, her Kanga. Not alone. Curled up beside him was another girl, wearing boxers and a red long Manchester united jersey, her head resting on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined. She didn’t want to believe what she had seen and therefore ignored it for a moment. Then the impulse. The reflexes. The final glance. On one hand was a pink toothbrush with a tiny load of toothpaste on it.
Kanga, the boy with eyes every girl said were beautiful said to the girl with a smile that could melt glacier, “hurry up and brush your teeth.”, as he softly spanked her. With a slow turn as if she was showing off her curves, the girl turned towards the sink showing Gracie her back. There it was, perfectly printed on the jersey, the name she had always loved; Papi’, with number 10 printed below it. Sure enough, that was kanga’s favorite jersey.
She couldn’t help but subconsciously think about the day she first met him, two years ago when she joined medical school. The memory of that first touch sent a bittersweet pang through her. She wanted to relieve their encounter since the white coat ceremony but the anger in her heart couldn’t let her.
He'd promised her the world, like all men do nowadays, filled with a sincerity that now felt like a cruel trick. But honestly, he was an irresistible third year then. She'd believed him, every word. Though filled with the naivety of being an ignorant first year and the sheepish desire not to seem lost it being her first time in Nairobi, she had inevitably fallen in love with him as time went by. Though there were occasional red flags like the way he would friendly and affectionately hug other girls, she had ignored them all because all that ran in her mind was “look, I'm dating Kanga. He is such charming”.
She'd clung to the hope, which was not mainly fueled by love as most girls claimed, but by the fact that being in medical school, most of her stress was academic related and Kanga having effortlessly satisfied the board two times so far, he always found ways to comfort her, encourage her and eventually, kiss her to relaxation. This always gave her a sense of belonging, in addition to the fact that Kanga was Jitu’s closest friend. She had found haven in him, until now. Despite the weight of his betrayal, suffocating her with a sense of worthlessness and despair, she had managed to calmly call him out, “Hey babe...” she didn’t want to think about the response she had gotten.
To add insult to injury, stepping into the room and seeing me and Carol together had been another blow. Here we were, radiating warmth and a hesitant hope for something new. As I finished editing and saved the video, I looked at Gracie's red eyes with an expression filled with concern. "Gracie, is everything alright?" I asked with a gentle voice. "You seem…off."
Gracie fought back the tears that threatened to spill. She forced a smile, tried to say something but she could only bite her lips.
"Ugh, why did I have to go to that stupid washroom?” she thought, her voice tight with barely suppressed anger. "Why couldn't I have just stuck to my usual routine?" Images of Kanga and the girl flashed behind her eyelids, fueling her rage. "He never cared that much anyway," she muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper.
She hadn’t seen much of the girl then, but she was sure she wasn’t even half as pretty as herself. The anger gave way to a crushing sadness. "How could someone who said they loved me do that?" she thought.
Gracie blinked, startled back to the present. The mask slipped for a moment, a raw vulnerability flickering across her face before she plastered a smile back on. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, her voice strained. "Just a long day, you know? That's all."
Carol, too, turned to her, her eyes filled with a quiet understanding. "Are you sure?" she asked softly. "You can always tell me if something's wrong."
Gracie hesitated. She wanted to lay it all bare, but could we possibly understand the depth of her pain, the hollowness that consumed her? The truth, however liberating it might be, felt like a fragile butterfly struggling to escape its cocoon. "It's… it's nothing you guys need to worry about," she stammered, forcing a light laugh. "Seriously, just a rough day. We should probably head to clabu now that you are done, right?”
“How could he call me the third bear?” Gracie then suddenly blurted out, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it's there, because it can't hurt, and because what difference does it make?” she sobbed.
My gaze darted between her tear-streaked face and Carol’s hand which subconsciously and gently rested on her arm. There was something undeniably thrilling about Gracie that had always demanded my attention. Let's be honest, initial attraction often started with the superficial. It was the first impression, the spark that always ignited the flame, and that was true for my case with Carol.
But with Gracie- my eyes did not melt like chocolate nor did I have a smile that could light up a stadium and laughter that resonated like wind chimes on a warm summer breeze. She didn’t stop me in my tracks nor make my pulse quicken and leave me wanting more like Carol did.
She was just more than a pretty face. her vibe, the energy she radiated, the amusement in her eyes and the sarcasm that always laced her jokes was a winner to any guy. Her beauty, though not as radiant as Carol’s, was only a reflection of the brilliance within. She was passionate about her work, no matter how tiresome and frustrating it was sometimes. She seldom spoke of her goals or fantasies like most girls did, nor did she in any way challenge me to be a better version of myself.
But what truly captivated me was her unwavering dedication to her values. In a world that often compromises, she held fast to what she believed in, her strength and conviction radiating outwards. She wasn't afraid to disagree, to stand up for what was right, even when it meant going against the grain. Yet, she did it with grace and compassion that would remind anyone that kindness and strength could coexist.
I just couldn’t tell how or why, but she was something far more beautiful and enduring than any fleeting attraction. She was in no case the third beer.
"Gracie," I said softly, concern replacing my initial curiosity. I reached out hesitantly, offering her a tissue but with stern warning eye and a quicker reaction, Carol offered her a handkerchief. "What happened?" I managed to ask.
Gracie took the tissue, dabbing at her eyes with a shaky hand. "Kanga," she choked out, his name a bitter whisper. "I just saw him… with someone else."
"Oh, Gracie," Carol said, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm so sorry."
Gracie shook her head, tears glistening on her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I just… I don't even know where to begin."
Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes once more, and then, in a trembling voice, began to recall what had just happened. I listened intently as she spoke of Kanga, wondering what this dude was doing here in the first place yet he didn’t reside around. I wanted to ask her whether she was sure he had the girl or it was just a coincidence and he didn’t know her, but then her voice grew heavy as she continued narrating. I almost laughed when she said "Papi", the jersey, but then held on and looked her with a face full of sadness as she finished, “He even called me the third beer and said he just...”
"Gracie," Carol said gently before she could finish her statement, "Kanga doesn't deserve your tears. He doesn't deserve your love. He doesn't deserve anything from you."
I wanted to defend kanga, of course he was my G. I wanted to tell Gracie that people do funny things, especially us. I wanted to tell her that the cards are always stacked against us and we are just trying to stay in the game, stay alive and this makes us do funny things. Things we can't help. Things that make us hurt one another. We don't even know why. I wanted to tell her that maybe it was just heat of the moment, and she didn't have to be so angry about him right now. But how could I when I wanted to be a gentleman infront of Carol?
If I had said that, I was sure Carol would have suddenly slap me harshly before condemning, “you men, you are all the same. How can you say something like that? Is it because Kanga is your friend? You know, for once I thought you might be different, someone special, but you are just like all the others.”
It was awkward. I looked at Gracie with tender eyes and then back to Carol. I had to say something, I just didn't know what. I looked at Gracie. She felt like she was the last alone person. Like maybe there weren't ten million people in the world. Maybe there were ten million and one, and she was the one. But in the middle of all that, I managed to say...
“Babes, don't think that because he doesn't love you that you are worthless. Don't think that because he doesn't want you anymore that he is right- that if he throws you out, then you are garbage. Don't think that he belongs to you because you want to belong to him. Gracie, don't. It's a bad word, 'belong.' Especially when you put it with somebody you love. He doesn’t deserve, and love shouldn't be like that.”
With these words, I felt pretty proud of myself. But then, Carol's response followed.
“What do you know about somebody not being good enough for somebody else? She started. "And since when did you care about Gracie yet the guy who hurt her so bad is your friend? Deep down you've been laughing at Gracie for what has just happened. But now, all of a sudden, you have her welfare at heart and now proudly saying that your friend doesn’t deserve her? How ironic! Who are you to approve or disapprove anybody or anything right now?"
I just watched in silence. Only if I were the flash, I would go back in time and never say anything. Unlike the cocktails we had when we first met, her words had been a stinging cocktail of anger and hurt. The playful atmosphere we'd built just moments ago shattered into a million pieces.
Only Gracie's soft sniffles occasionally broke the silence in the room. I stared at Carol, my initial confusion morphing into a simmering resentment. How could she twist my words so viciously? But then, how fast had I forgotten the previous chats in Amsun book club? Here I was, trying to be a friend, to offer some semblance of comfort to Gracie, and there was Carol painting me as the villain, the very betrayal that had bringing Gracie to tears. Now with sense striking me, coupled with a replay on the argument about feminism, I wondered, was there a part of her I didn’t really know? A part I would regret knowing? A part I wasn’t sure I wanted to know?
Part of me wanted to lash out, to defend myself with equal ferocity, show her that I was the man. But then the accusations had a sliver of truth. Sure, bro code existed. There was a loyalty to my friends, even a hesitation to believe them capable of such a betrayal. Not that I didn’t know Kanga, of course he had long ago told me that Gracie was never his first choice, that she was just a naive innocent girl who had hands and legs fallen in love with her. But hadn't I, just moments before, felt a flicker of something more for Gracie? An undeniable connection that transcended Kanga's actions? Or was it just pity?
Guilt washed over me, replacing the anger. Perhaps Carol, who for sure had higher emotional intelligence than any of us, had sensed this. Maybe she saw the way I looked at Gracie a little too long, the way I was the first to notice Gracie's emotional turmoil. Perhaps, in her anger for Gracie, she saw me as a potential threat, I didn’t know.
Then, shame crept in. My initial defense of Kanga, though never spoken out loud, stemmed from a desire to de-escalate the situation, to offer some semblance of hope that Kanga's actions could be explained away. It wasn't about saying what he had done was right, not truly, but then nobody knew half of the story, not even Gracie herself. It was about fumbling for a way to navigate this awkward situation without causing further pain. The third beer might have been too much (though I already knew this would happen, wasn’t sure it would be this soon.)
But in my clumsy attempt to comfort Gracie and be a gentleman to Carol, I'd ended up being the villain. Though in Gracie's eyes I could see that to some extent she disagreed with what Carol had just said, she didn't dare say it out loud. Only if I was able to see the situation through Carol's eyes, I would have known whether the anger was out of protection, or maybe, just jealousy. I didn’t even try to understand because I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
The silence stretched on, before finally, Carol took a shaky breath, her eyes filled with a mixture of regret and defiance. "Look," she said, her voice quieter now, "I..." She faltered, searching for the right words.
"I'm sorry." she finally admitted, the words struggling to get out. "I… I overreacted. I saw you trying to comfort Gracie, and…" She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering to Gracie before returning to me. "And I guess… I just panicked. I didn't like the way you looked at her. Seeing the possibility of you taking advantage of her current condition just…" she trailed off, her voice choked with emotion.
Carol's jealousy, however irrational, stemmed from a genuine concern for her friend’s well-being. She cared deeply for her friend, and the possibility of another betrayal, perhaps even from someone she saw as a potential love interest, had triggered a fierce protectiveness. But to me, she was just selfish. Well, not just to me. But like I was taught, always learn to apologize to women even if they are wrong.
"Carol," I said, my voice gentle, "I understand. You just want to protect her."
She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I do."
Glancing at Gracie, who remained withdrawn, lost in her own thoughts, I added, "We both do. But there is something you should know."
“What?” Gracie asked.
“There’s something beautiful waiting for you. Whether you find it tomorrow or years from now, I hope it’ll restore your faith in life. You deserve all the beauty and light in the world.” I said, then looked at carol.
She was still angry, and angry people needed someone who cared enough to listen long enough to understand the pain. They needed someone who listened carefully enough to identify with their anger, wisely enough to express understanding, and courageously enough to respond with gentle, truthful answer. I honestly wasn’t ready to be that person to Carol.
But Gracie? She was mine. She just didn’t know it yet. I hadn’t known it myself until I saw how carol instinctively raged at me when I showed a little care.
Link to part 8
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