TRACY
There should be rules about meeting someone only once.
Rules that stop your heart from remembering the sound of his laugh.
Rules that stop your mind from replaying the way he said your name.
Because I had met Eli only yesterday night…
And somehow, he is already living rent-free in my head.
"Is this love or lust?" I muttered to myself.
I sat curled in one of the soft leather chairs, at the sitting room pretending to read a CityLife magazine that had been on the center table for weeks. My eyes were on the glossy pages, but my mind? My mind was far away — tangled up in thoughts of Eli.
Eli. Just his name made my heart beat in a funny rhythm.
I met him last night at the girls' night out — unplanned, unexpected, unforgettable. He wasn't even supposed to be there, just a friend of a friend who'd tagged along. Tall, charming, that easy Lagos confidence that seems to wrap around every word he said. We talked, we laughed, and when he smiled at me, something in my chest warmed up — like the first taste of palm wine after a long week.
Now, I couldn't focus on a single paragraph of the article before me. I must have been staring at the same sentence for ten minutes, reading and re-reading about "the rise of digital fashion in Africa," while in my mind, I was replaying the sound of his laugh, the way he said my name — "Traaacy," dragging it like it was music.
What's wrong with me? I sighed, letting the magazine drop to my lap.
Was it love or just... lust? It had been a while since I'd even entertained the idea of a man. Work, bills, Lagos traffic — life had a way of swallowing up all the soft, romantic spaces. And now suddenly, Eli appears, and I'm daydreaming like a teenager again, just like I've always fantasized my Romeo. I couldn't believe another man is taking up his space in my heart — not that I don't want to keep him in mind, but for the fact that I can't continue to think of someone who I barely believe I would see again.
I chuckled softly at myself.
And then, speak of the devil — my phone buzzed on the armrest. Eli calling.
I blinked in surprise, heart skipping a beat. I picked up almost too quickly.
"Hey you," I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice gave me away — a little too bright.
"Tracyyyy," he teased, that lazy drawl again. "I was just thinking about you." He said.
My lips curved into a smile. "Oh really? You sound like you say that to every girl."
"Ah-ah! Don't spoil my swag now," he laughed. "I'm serious. You've been in my head since last night. I actually woke up smiling."
I laughed softly, twirling a strand of my hair. "You're smooth, Eli. You should teach a class."
"Maybe I will," he said playfully. "But only if you promise to sit in the front row."
We both laughed — the easy, natural kind that only happens when two people click.
Then the conversation slipped into that beautiful rhythm of early connection. We talked about everything — life in Lagos, our favorite suya spots, the madness of Third Mainland Bridge traffic, and how he's into sports ("I play basketball sometimes," he said. "But don't be impressed, I'm still working on my jump shot.")
I teased him about his confidence.
"Hmm, so you think you're good at everything, abi?"
He chuckled. "Not everything. But I'm really good at getting Tracy to smile. That counts, right?"
"Eli, you're unbelievable," I said, shaking my head, though I was grinning like a fool.
He asked about my job, my friends, what I liked to do for fun. I found myself telling him stories I hadn't shared in a while — about the chaos of finding a remote job online since I'm graduating in few days, about Lagos fun markets, love for music, how I love dancing.
"Oh, you dance?" he said quickly. "Perfect. You know I already asked you out last night but you're yet to give me a reply. There's this new spot in Victoria Island — good DJ, good vibes. I'll pick you up around nine?"
My heart gave a tiny leap. "Hmm, clubbing on a Sunday? You Lagos boys don't rest oh."
"Who said anything about boys? This is a man asking you out," he said with mock pride. "Besides, it'll be fun. You can dance, I'll try to keep up."
I laughed, tapping my phone screen nervously. "Alright, deal. But only if I can invite a few. Just my girl Sonia and her boyfriend Kelvin. Moreover, if the DJ is bad, I'm blaming you."
"Fair enough," he replied. "Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"That you'll wear something that makes me forget my name."
"Eli!" I gasped, giggling. "You're too much."
"I'm just being honest. You looked incredible last night, and I've been picturing that smile since."
The warmth in his voice melted through me. It wasn't just flattery — it was how he said it. Simple. Sincere.
We talked a while longer — about our favorite movies, weekend plans, even about the annoying generator noise that never seems to stop during my University days. It felt effortless, like we'd known each other for years, not just a single night.
Eventually, he said softly, "Alright, beautiful, I'll let you go. Get some rest. Big night ahead."
"Okay," I replied, still smiling. "But don't keep me waiting tonight."
"Never. Nine o'clock sharp, I'll be outside. Just bring that laugh — the one you gave me last night."
When the call ended, I sat there for a moment, phone pressed against my chest, a goofy grin spreading across my face.
The magazine lay forgotten on the table.
Was it love? Or lust?
Maybe it didn't matter right now. All I knew was that my heart felt alive again — fluttering, hopeful, and just a little reckless.
Then, from behind me, came a dramatic clearing of the throat.
"Mrs Valentine!"
I turned around sharply.
There stood Sonia, leaning against the doorway, grinning like a mischievous cat. Half of her braids were tied up in a bun, and she held two glasses of red wine — both already half full.
I groaned. "Sonia! Don't tell me you've been standing there listening!"
She gave me a knowing smile, walking in with slow, exaggerated grace. "Listening? Babe, I was just making sure you weren't getting proposed to on the phone without me as a witness."
I threw a pillow at her, laughing. "You're terrible."
She dodged easily and sat beside me, handing me one of the glasses. "Cheers to new beginnings," she said, clinking her glass against mine.
I raised an eyebrow. "New beginnings?"
"Oh please," she said, smirking. "You think I didn't hear that giggle in your voice when you said his name? Tracy, you're gone."
I took a sip of my wine, trying not to smile. "It's not like that. We just talked."
"Talked?" she repeated dramatically, widening her eyes. "You don't smile like that over small talk. Babe, that man's voice melted your tone! I heard you — 'Eli, you're too much.'" She mimicked me with exaggerated sweetness, fluttering her eyelashes.
I burst into laughter. "You're mad! You're not serious at all."
"Serious or not, I'm happy for you," Sonia said, leaning back on the couch. "You've been dry for too long. I was beginning to think you joined a no-men association."
"Oh please," I laughed, rolling my eyes. "I've just been busy."
"Busy ko, busy ni," she teased. "Anyway, I like this Eli guy. I remember him from last night — tall, dark, fine like Lagos night breeze. I even told you to accept his date, remember?"
I smiled, shaking my head. "You and your matchmaking spirit. You're something else."
"Abeg don't pretend. That man is package! But..." she leaned closer, her tone suddenly playful and conspiratorial, "...make sure you test him small."
"Test him? What do you mean?"
She grinned wickedly. "Ask for something. Small something. Like 'oh my fuel tank is crying' or 'MTN just finished my data.' See how he reacts. If he doesn't offer, hmm, you might just be dealing with a fine boy with empty pockets."
I laughed so hard I almost spilled my wine. "Sonia! You and this your Lagos billing mentality."
"It's not billing, babe, it's research!" she said with mock seriousness. "Know if he's a giver early o. Because once you start catching feelings, it's hard to be logical."
"You're unbelievable," I said, still chuckling. "It's too early for all that. We've only just started talking."
"Too early?" she gasped dramatically. "You think Lagos men wait? Before you say Jack Robinson, another babe would have moved in with her own invoice!"
I rolled my eyes. "You're hopeless."
She winked. "And you love me like that."
We both sipped our wine, giggling like teenagers.
"So," Sonia asked after a pause, nudging me, "when are you seeing Mr. Chocolate Voice again?"
I hesitated, then smiled shyly. "Tonight."
"Ehn?" She nearly dropped her glass. "As in tonight tonight?"
"Yes," I said, laughing at her expression. "He's taking me clubbing. I already told you yesterday when he offered."
"Ohhh!" she squealed, clapping her hands. "I knew it! I knew it! That man doesn't waste time at all."
"You sound happier than I am," I teased.
"Of course! I've been praying for my girl to catch some sweet love gist again. It's been work, stress, and Netflix since January."
I chuckled. "You're silly. Anyway, if Kelvin's free, you can tell him to join us tonight. Might be fun to go together."
She gave me a sly smile — too sly. "Ah, my dear, you're late. I already told Kelvin we're going clubbing tonight."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
"Yes now!" she said, laughing. "I called him right after you went into your sweet phone conversation. I knew you'd say yes to Eli's invite. So I told Kelvin to come pick me up at nine. Same time, same vibe!"
I stared at her, laughing. "Sonia, you're unbelievable! You pre-planned our night before I even confirmed?"
"Of course!" she said proudly, tossing her braids. "That's what best friends do — we prepare for your glow-up before you even realize it's happening."
I shook my head, giggling. "You're dangerous."
"And fabulous," she corrected with a wink. "Besides, imagine the double date energy! You and Eli, me and Kelvin — Lagos won't be ready for us tonight."
I smiled, clinking my glass against hers. "Alright, fine. But you better not embarrass me with your loud dance moves again."
"Please," she said, laughing. "I'm going to teach you moves tonight. It's been too long since you let loose."
"True," I admitted, finishing my wine. "Alright, let's make tonight worth it."
Sonia grinned, raising her glass in a toast.
"To Lagos nights, fine men, and girlfriends who always know too much!"
We both burst into laughter — the carefree kind that fills the room with warmth and mischief.
Little did I know, the night ahead was about to be more eventful than either of us imagined.