Falling For The Playboy

Omar.

Merely thinking his name brought a fresh pang of sadness to my heart. I missed him so much. From the moment I met him five years ago, it had been the both of us against everything in our own distorted little world. Until he’d gotten adopted a week ago, and I’d gone back to riding solo.

A smile crept up my face as I replayed the moment I first met him in my head.

A twelve year old me had been heading to the store room in search of water at the exact same time he’d been sneaking back in. I’d wanted to scream bloody murder, but my body had been too occupied with saving itself from what could have been an unfortunate fall, to focus on transmitting that information to my brain. We’d bumped into each other, landed on our asses on the floor, then burst out laughing at ourselves. We hadn’t even bothered getting up. There, on the store room floor, in the middle of the night, we bonded. He’d seemed honest, had a great sense of humor and my eyes hadn’t seemed to freak him out like I’d expected them to. I’d felt at ease with him.

Eventually, when we’d fallen silent and awkwardness had started to creep in, he’d said, “Will you be my best friend? ”

I’d been so confused. Who asked someone they just met to be their best friend? It hadn’t been my first time seeing him at the orphanage, but that had been the first ever conversation we had.

I’d said yes anyway and that had been the beginning of Eva and Omar.

Words couldn’t express how sad I’d been when he delivered the news to me that he was getting adopted. I’d acted selfishly, mourning the loss of a friend that was still present, when I could have been celebrating with him. I cursed myself now that I thought about it because I knew if it had been the reverse, he would’ve been happy for me.

Before he left, he’d made me promise that I would let myself get adopted. I made the promise despite how bizarre it sounded. As if I had a say in whether I was going to get adopted or not.

It all seemed to me like a big prank when Mr. Ayo, the head of the orphanage, ordered me to pack my meagre belongings that I was getting adopted. I hadn’t really had to work my magic or do anything of the like. I’d simply gone into the office, smiled at the occupants and poof, the next day, I was in an expensive car, heading to a new house where I would be living for the foreseeable future.

Mr. Ayo hadn’t been able to get rid of me fastly enough. The pretentious, money-grubbing old man had been all smiles with the couple, agreeing with whatever they said and had damn near pushed me into their car and out of the orphanage. That man made my stay there a living hell and it filled me with huge relief that I could confidently say I was never seeing him again.

The car jerked as we passed over a pothole, the movement jolting me back to the present, making me aware of my surroundings. I tended to get lost in my head a lot, it was a little trick I did to escape my trash reality. Reality that was changing for the better, I hoped, thanks to the couple in front of me.

I found myself studying them. Again.

If I were to describe my new foster parents in one word, it would be understated. Merely seeing them, one would think they were common people who had nothing to their name. I’d thought so too at first, too, even though I knew better than to judge people based on their appearances, and I’d been proven wrong when I actually got to know who they were.

Mr Lawson wore a plain purple polo shirt paired with grey khakis, with a wristwatch adorning his left hand while his wife doned a straight, floor-length gown in burgundy red. Simple. Understated.

Would the twins like the same style?

Somehow I doubted that. I didn’t know why. I just did.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

And I was assuming again.

Sun caught the ring on Mrs Lawson’s finger, drawing my attention to it and when I looked, I saw that they were actually two. Simple, beautiful, gold bands. Just like her.

I remembered a girl from my class had said she believed that every relationship between a man and a woman, was done in the order; love, marriage then sex. I hadn’t called her naive like I’d wanted to, I’d simply said to each his own.

I mean, if the hiking number of pregnant teens hawking in the streets didn’t tell her otherwise, then maybe I didn’t live in the same world as her after all.

Mr and Mrs Lawson were definitely in love, I could tell. I knew how to get a good read on people, it was a gift. Like for instance, I could tell Mrs was a chatterbox, while her husband was more reserved. He hadn’t uttered a single word since we entered the car, but I could tell he was at alert.

The car slowed to a stop as we reached traffic and I sat up, looking out the window. Nothing about where we were was familiar. At all. If the three hours drive hadn’t been enough to tell me we were very, very far from the orphanage, this did.

I took in the sleek cars waiting in front and behind ours in line. The scenery alone was mind-blowing and enough for me to forget about my nagging hunger. The structures were so beautiful, the fresh green of the trees, refreshing and filling me with an odd feeling of happiness.

My wandering eyes came to a halt as I realized what I was looking at.