I hope Obi will be the real thing.
I want Obi
to say it.
I need Obi
to say it.
I shrug and feign ignorance.
“No lo sé,” I say in Spanish.
“¿Hablas español?” asks Obi.
“Sí, un poco,” I reply. “Es uno...”
I go blank in Spanish.
I go back to English.
“It’s one of my GCSEs.”
“I do French,” Obi says,
with a hint of innuendo,
“but I’ve been on holiday to Spain
with my family.”
“Con mi familia,” I offer in Spanish.
“Avec ma famille,” Obi says in French.
I look over his shoulder
to check if Mum or anyone else
is coming this way.
Obi looks at the ground,
and bites his bottom lip.
“But you didn’t come here
for language lessons,
or to buy another pendant,
did you?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t,” he says.
He puts a hand to his chest
where the loop of jade rests.
