The ORION Project | ✔

chapter 29

Kendrick returned wearing a wifebeater and a tray containing two plates of steaming jollof rice. Grace sat up, her stomach grumbling, the smile Kendrick shot her way told her he heard. She didn't care though, she had already let him see her cry, he had seen her at her worst, eating his food was the last of her worries.

When he set the plate on the glass table in front of Grace, he settled down besides her again on the sofa.

"She made too much." He said, pursing his lips in embarrassment as Grace gaped openly at the rice spilling out of the plates, she didn't even want to think about the giant pieces of chicken topping it.

She began to laugh, shaking her head as she did so.

"Can you even cook?" She asked.

"I make really good noodles." He said with a proud smirk.

"Really?" Grace teased, leaning forward to grab the spoon besides the plates. She twirled it absentmindedly between her fingers, feeling the coolness.

"It's not like there was someone to teach me, my mom told me that when she and my father first moved to Nigeria, they were totally gobsmacked by how everything was so different from how it was back home."

Grace noted how he never referred to Nigeria as home despite being born or at least raised here.

"The first thing they did was hire a cook, and even then, it took a while to get used to Nigerian food and mom wasn't even interested in learning to cook new dishes, so I never learnt." He finished, taking his own spoon and scooping the rice into his mouth, chewing as delicately as she had imagined. Kendrick always did everything like he was second guessing it but as he chewed, Grace watched his face relax and the bliss return to his eyes.

"Excuses," she told him after he swallowed.

"Maybe we should do a cooking competition sometime, my noodles versus your specialty." Kendrick challenged.

"I'm no cooking genius, my sister beats me at that, but I do make a mean potato porridge." Grace said.

Kendrick eyes seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights.

"Wife material, isn't that what you Yoruba people say?" Kendrick said, for a moment her heart soared then disappointment filled her when he added; "I mean your sister."

Grace huffed, for a second it seemed like they had been flirting but then once again he managed to sound like they were nothing but friends.

"Aren't you hungry?" He said, gesturing at her untouched plate.

"It's late, I should be going." She said suddenly. She let her spoon clatter to the porcelain tray. The feeling of discomfort was slowly returning, she had felt easy with him at the beginning but she was slowly begin to realise that Kendrick was just a nice guy in general, he would do the same to any other girl.

She was just another charity case to him and here she was, sitting in his living room and having the guts to eat his food.

Grace had never felt so low, so unwanted, so useless.

Kendrick looked up, startled.

"You can stay here, Grace, and I swear if you feel the least bit uncomfortable, I will give you the key to one of the rooms here so you can lock yourself in." He told her hurriedly.

"Stop feeling sorry for me." She said the words quietly, then wished she had screamed it aloud.

She startled when Kendrick whipped his head to stare at her at a speed that was quick, there was outrage in the slow pursing of his lips, then it was gone as soon as it appeared.