He was the full embodiment of a nice guy,according to girls anyway. Medium build with an unimpressionable face. His look belied his age. At 25, he looked more like one coming to the end of his teens. Quick to smile. A tad shy and more quiet than talkative in a gang. Not bored or boring. That was his involvement, listening more than talking unless something touched him specifically.
But he was quick with words when need be. Probably the reason he spoke less as if to give others a chance to belabor theirs. It was said he rarely argued and he was slow to anger but when he did argue, those moments when someone chose to make a fool of himself, he wiped up the other guy in a single sweeping blow. One argument that brought the issue to a close. This particular Saturday he was bored, even though he knew almost everyone present at the charity do, except the girl.
So he busied himself with a painter’s brush, repainting the same spot of the facia board which would be hoisted to the new rural school classroom his group was helping build.
He did not notice the girl get close till she had painted her part of the board and had progressively come very close to him.
They painted in silence for a while.
“You a builder here? “ She asked, face full of mischief.
“Student, actually.” He answered with a straight face.
A wide smile created two huge dimples on her cheeks.He kept painting.
“You realize this is a primary school. What would that make you, an adult learner?”
“Candidate. Primary seven this year.”
Now she broke into full laughter. Her shoulders shook violently when she laughed. She stopped painting and looked the other way, hopelessly trying to hide her amusement.
For a minute he stopped painting and looked at her. She had a long neck, exposed by the bun of braids tied fiercely behind her head. Her sleeveless t-shirt showed shapely arms, like she exercised often,it also gave her chest character. He studied her well -rounded bottom, now that she had her back to him-an evil voice whispering in his mind- They still make those?
She was tall and her faded blue jeans stopped mid-calf exposing what was the start of nice legs.
She suddenly stopped laughing -from her shoulder action -and turned around to face him as if detecting his eyes on her body.
She threw him a mockingly accusatory look, at the very moment her longish black painted nails showing as she wiped tears. From intense laughter.
He stopped to stare. She had the loveliest eyes he had ever seen. Big and round; they danced when she blinked. They had him captured.
Picking more paint with her now drying brush, she resumed painting.
A sly smile played on his lips,like any naughty boy happy with himself.
“I am in my vacation.” She said in a matter -of -fact way. Like their conversation had not been interrupted.
“Have you picked your forms? “He asked. No hint of having heard her last statement.
“Private admissions are not open yet.” She explained.
“Not those forms. “ He said, amid brush strokes. “Face of Africa beauty contest forms.”
She squarely faced him now. One hand on her hip, studying him.
“Carole. “She said. Her lean hand proffered.” With an e at the end”,she added for emphasis.
“Sean. “He answered, taking her arm. “I do hugs.”
With a slight shake of her head she took his arm in and embraced him, smearing him with white paint in the process.