I Do Not Come to You by Chance Read Online Free PDF Page A

dabbled in more than their fair share of promiscuity and which were vampires - female Draculas on a mission to drain your bank balance dry. It was as if these girls gave off some peculiar pheromones. Perhaps Nature, knowing that man would someday need it for self-preservation, had implanted this sixth sense so that common folks like me could identify them.
    Their noise eventually smoked the library attendant out of his cubicle. He strode to their table with a frown as thick as hail.
    ‘ Oya , all of you should get up and leave the library,’ he ordered, his voice loud enough for everyone to know that someone who had power was in the process of exercising it.
    ‘Must you shout like that?’ one of the girls asked.
    ‘Just pack your things and leave!’
    ‘You should even be happy we came,’ another girl hissed. ‘After all, if we didn’t come, you wouldn’t have anything to do all day.’
    They laughed while gathering their books and dainty handbags. I continued staring at Ola as they sniggered their way out of the library. Her back view was as satisfying as her front.
    Ola returned the next day, this time on her own. My heart somersaulted twice when she walked in. She sat about five tables away and spread out her books. My supersonic brain ceased functioning. The words on the pages in front of me started wriggling about like enchanted snakes. I suddenly remembered that I needed a haircut. And that my white shirt was not starched. Ola studied for a full one hour before she got up and left.
    She was back again the next day, and the next, and the next. I marvelled at how such a pretty girl could actually make out time to study. Other visitors to the library also seemed to have taken note of this shooting star.
    ‘Hello,’ the man whose lenses were as thick as the bottom of a Coke bottle would say.
    ‘Hello,’ the man who was about four feet tall would add.
    ‘Hello,’ the man who wore the same purple pair of trousers every day would concur.
    Ola always smiled and waved at them. Having her in the library was such a delicious change from the usual dreary girls.
    Even my roommates noticed that something was happening to me. On my way home from school one day, I stopped at the hostel shop and spent considerable time selecting what appeared to be an affordable, musky, macho fragrance. While getting ready for school the next morning, I sprayed the bottle lavishly from head to toe.
    ‘Graveyard, what’s wrong with you?’ Enyi, one of my roommates, asked.
    This nickname had been bestowed on me by another roommate who complained that I hardly ever spoke whenever I was reading, which was almost always. I never responded to it when I was in a bad mood. Today, I was feeling particularly high.
    ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
    ‘Ah, ah. I have never, ever, ever seen you spray perfume before. Never.’ He called the attention of the rest, who were also preparing for school. ‘Make una come see o, Graveyard don begin dey use perfume.’
    The one who had initiated the nickname poked his nose into the air and took in an unnecessarily deep breath.
    ‘You call this one perfume?’ he asked. ‘This one be like say na insecticide.’
    I left them laughing and set off for the faculty with a spring in my steps. All their mockery was not enough to still the drumbeats of ecstasy in my heart.
    That day, Ola did not show up at the library.
    I did not set eyes on her until about a week later. While walking along the faculty main corridor, I saw her standing and chatting with a group of girls. My feet stopped beside her. The girls quit talking and looked at me. My larynx turned to stone.
    ‘Is everything OK?’ Ola asked, her face crumpling with concern.
    Silence was my answer.
    ‘Would you like me to help you in any way?’
    Her voice sounded like a beautiful flower. I could have composed several cantatas and penned unending epics merely by listening to her speak.
    ‘No, everything is OK,’ I replied at last. ‘I was just