Every opportunity he got, my friend and roommate at the university did not hold back from making fun of me and telling everyone who wished to hear that I was a terrible cook. The first time, it started as a joke and I joined in to laugh about it. But as he began to bring it up in every conversation about food that we had, I began to feel embarrassed. The last straw that broke the camel's back was when he mentioned it to the girl I was having a crush on. A girl who I knew I had almost won over, a girl who was fascinated by my mannerisms, my beautiful handwriting and the thought of the rich, tasty meals I told her that I could prepare.
She flashed me a look that said that I had lied to her and it hurt me.
It wasn't that I was a bad cook. I just did not cook so much. My friend, Ossy, did more of the cooking as he seemed to enjoy it, while the rest of us contributed to buying stock. Without giving a thought, plus with the rage in me, I turned to Ossy and said, "let's have a cooking competition, you and I."
Ossy and all the rest of our friends stopped talking to look at me. Ossy flashed me a look of disbelief and then gave a smirk. I looked at him deadpan.
"I concur"
"Me too. Infact, I'll contribute to buying the foodstuff."
"I just want to be the food taster and judge."
.....our friends said.
What would you want us to cook?" Ossy said, looking at Anita, my crush, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Errm, I don't know. Anything. Maybe jollof rice with veggies in it. Is that okay?." She was looking right at me.
I swallowed hard and then nodded. Ossy gave a cheeky smile, "that's just fine."
And that settled it.
I felt an unsettling sensation in my stomach. I could make jollof rice but I hadn't tried the kind I knew Anita was talking about. I watched Ossy and made a decision in my mind to show him I could cook better than the burnt palm oil rice I made once which gave him the notion that I was a novice in the kitchen.
The day for the competition came. It was more of an in-house vigil party held in our apartment, only something was up. Myself and Ossy went about cooking jollof rice, in small quantities, just enough to feed everyone that was present. The rest of our friends just stayed together, chatting, playing games, dancing.
We both rounded up our meals at the same time. To my surprise, my food came out looking really good. It tasted good too. Done, we presented our meals. Mine in a big plate and Ossy's too.
My crush did the honors of tasting the meals first. Time stood as I watched her put a spoonful of my rice into her mouth. My heart beat really fast. I couldn't read her expression first, but as she took a spoon after the first, and gave a thumbs-up, I felt relief wash through me.
Ossy's meal tasted equally good. Some said he got the texture right. My rice was softer, hence, we had to eat mine and reserve his for the next day.
I was so glad. The party ran until the early hours of the morning. I fell asleep at around 2am.
Problem started when at night, I woke up with a rumbling stomach and a tingling, sweet-sensational hotness in my anus.
I rushed off to the bathroom in my room but someone was in it. I hurried to the other in Jerry's room and found my crush just outside pacing the floor. Apparently, she needed to use it too but someone was already inside.
I knew what had happened and gave a sorry look. Just then, Ossy rushed into the room holding the back of his trouser with his left hand, sweating.
"This one everybody is using the toilet, Soka's food has done what cannot be undone," Ossy said
"What does that even mean?" I asked furious.
"What did you add to the food?" Anita asked, softly.
"Nothing really. I just followed the recipe from one chef online." I said.
"Ha! Online recipe? It must be a recipe for disaster. Look atus!" Ossy mocked.
"Stop it, Ossy. The meal was nice, he must have missed something during preparation," Anita made to defend me.
At that instant, I left the room, more embarrassed.
Thanks for stopping by.
SOKA 🖤