Untitled- The beginning to no end

I always thought a girl hitting on me would be the ultimate compliment. Now, standing in the bathroom and rebuffing the advances of a particularly mannish girl, i wasnt so sure. At first i thought i must be imagining it. The apprieciative once over (more like three times over)..i put it down as a girl checking out my outfit. No big deal. Now she was standing next to me whispering suggestive things in my ear. The bathroom is too small to move. I'm trying to ignore her. I can't leave. I can't leave because he's out there. I sigh. My throat hurts and i want to cry. I don't have enough strength to stop breathing in my ear, so i whisper a silent prayer that she leaves.

Sule. the name slipped into my mind and continued to repeat itself. Sule, Sule, Sule. I shook my head. Mannish girl took that as her cue to leave. i sighed a breath of relief. Sule. I remembered when i hated his name. The first time we were introduced, i sneered. It was one of those names i turned my nose down at, ranking with 'Shakirat'. I was cocooned in my British education, I loved to apprieciate all things Nigerian from a distance. He looked at me with disdain and i felt like he could see right through me. He made me feel ashamed. That day i knew that he would have me. He knew that after one glance, he controlled 'next'. I start to cry and i feel relief.

I cant go back out because he's here with his new girlfriend. He hasnt seen me. I know i look good. I havent risked going out once without looking my best since the incident. But im alone. I cant stand him pitying me. I dont know what to do. I reapply my lipstick and walk out of the bathroom.