{When ice shatters, it melts to water and refreezes but when a heart breaks, it stays as tiny shards of red, waiting for that right person to gather them and fix them back. But what if that right person is also heartbroken?—from the code of hearts, volume one.}
Celine almost couldn’t believe her eyes when she read and reread the message on her screen. The email had come like a bolt of lightning, shocking and sweeping! She’d gotten a place for her practice!
It couldn’t be a mistake. Her spectacles were on and they enhanced her vision better and the fact that Mitchell was here with her to read the email made her believe it wasn’t a hoax. She’d gotten in!
Celine released another squeal, bouncing off her feet excitedly. This baffled Mitchell and she asked, “I get you got a message to start your training thingy but why so happy? These people are just a start-up game studio!”
Celine stopped her celebration halfway, scowling at Mitchell for being a party spoiler. Couldn’t she see that this was the bang for her? “Start-up studio? Do you know what that means?”
“Yeah?” Mitchell said and balanced more on the sofa, fingers picking through the pages of a fashion magazine. “Means they’re poor as dirt and have low class reputation. Definitely not a place for my baby girl.”
“Stop it, Mitch,” she said, moving toward the desk again to check on the message just in case it popped out of existence. “You know this is necessary.”
“It’s just a stupid one year programme to make your get your hands dirty,” she said, glancing at Celine. “You could easily get into a bigger and more famous tech company with grades like yours.”
“FunGames is a good place for me!”
“Remind me why?”
“They’re start-up, like you said, and they’re not famous. Do you know how famous that will make me be? They’ll be stoked to have the best graduating student in my University train with them.”
Mitchell snorted—these days, that seemed to be the only thing she could do. Celine frowned. “Is there another reason why you don’t want me to go to FunGames?”
Mitchell stood, dropping the magazine lazily, then walked towards the computer and cleared the message. “I’m worried they might not treat you well.”
“I’m not a child, Mitch,” Celine said, slumping into a chair. Why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t her parents see that? Mitchell was the last person she’d thought would oppose her decision to join a start-up game studio. She’d been her friend for ages and had even helped her when she’d left home in defiance to her parents’ whims.
Why couldn’t she support her now?
“I know you aren’t, Celine,” she said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “But those people might exploit you because you’re talented and resourceful. They might not pay your for your time.”
“Eh…not all companies pay trainees, you know?”
“You deserve to be paid,” Mitchell said with conviction. “You came top of your class. That should make them lick the dust you walk on.”
Celine scoffed. “Those are just grades not the real work. I want them to see my designs and templates and the algorithm I developed for the game AI…”
“Okay…” Mitchell turned to the sofa, waving her dismissively. “I don’t get what you’re saying but I won’t stop you. I couldn’t even try it. But you must contact your parents.”
Celine frowned. Did she have to? It had been so long that she’d forgotten what it felt like to give them a report about her life here. “I’ll try.”
“Now!”
Celine grimaced but did as told. Mitchell could be firm at times, almost like her mother but she was more caring and soothing.
“Mother!” she greeted the moment the line was answered.
“Inem!” her mother yelled so loud her ears burned. “You finally remembered you have a mother?”
“It’s Celine, mother.”
“That’s not the name I gave you, Inem,” she said and because the phone was on speaker, Mitchell chuckled softly. “Tell me, did Mitchell beat you into calling me?”
“Kind of.”
“In that case I should thank her for helping me raise a daughter I haven’t seen in almost 8 years!”
“Been busy with school work and all,” Celine said, hoping to end the call soon. This wasn’t getting anywhere.
“School work that others aren’t doing?” she asked, hissing. “That’s a pathetic lie. By the way, you need to call your father. He’s been raving these past eight years. If not for Mitchell keeping us posted on your wellbeing, he’d have come to Lagos to fetch you!”
Celine resisted a snort. Wellbeing? Her father cared about her wellbeing but couldn’t listen to her for the simplest of things she’d asked of him? He couldn’t do the one thing she’d earnestly asked of him? “I get it, I’ll call him.”
“Are you done with school?”
“Mitchell already told you of my graduation ceremony being next year so I’m not done. But I’m doing an industrial training with FunGames.”
The shriek from her mother’s end made both Celine and Mitchell flinch in horror. Did a snake just bite her?
After calming, however, she said, “FunGames? The start-up in Abuja? How dare you!”
“How dare I what?” Celine was feeling the heat of it all. This was the reaction she’d expected. They’d try to butt in and she hated it. Hated it with passion.
“That place is new and won’t appreciate your brilliance! They will undervalue you!” she enunciated each word with precision that Celine felt her annoyance from the phone, oozing like a river of lava.
“That’s the only place that contacted me so I had to accept.”
“Forget it,” she said. “My problem is that you’re flying off to Abuja but didn’t bother to call me or your father?”
“I’m calling now!”
“If Mitchell didn’t force you, would you have bothered?”
“It’s my life, mother.”
“And I nurtured that life in my womb for nine months so don’t talk shit with me!”
Celine sighed. When her mother got into the offensive, it never ends well. “I’m sorry.”
“Better,” she said. “I’ll try telling your father when he’s in a calm mood. But seriously Inem, you should’ve come home first. It’s been eight years and all I’ve seen have been pictures.”
‘If it was not for Mitchell, you wouldn’t even see photos at all,’ but she didn’t say that out loud. It would leave her ears ringing from the shouts that would ensue. “I’ll come when I’m done with the training.”
“If you want to change places then tell me. I can pull a few strings and get you out of there.”
“I know, thanks.”
“That’s fine.” She ended the call. Celine was surprised and found it so unlike her mother to hang up on her. Didn’t she say she missed her?
“Bravo!” Mitchell clapped, standing. “You’ve done yourself in this time.”
“You’re just too loud mouthed, Mitch,” she said, glaring at her. “Why must you tell them everything about me?”
She shrugged. “Because I’m housing their prodigal daughter and don’t want to go to prison?”
Celine sighed and wiped her face. She was going to Abuja even if the heavens fell. “How’s Deborah?”
“Oh?” Mitchell folded her arms and smirked. “Is it now you recall your daughter?”
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You took her away, remember?”
“Good point,” she said. “Deborah will be back next month and I might fly her to Abuja to visit you before coming back to Lagos.”
“Please do,” Celine said, eyes twinkling. “I’ve missed that little imp.”
“I could come with you.”
“No.”
“But you’re my partner!”
“Since when?” Celine asked, amazed.
“I proposed.”
She chuckled. “Come help me pack up and stop getting me riled up.”
Mitchell snorted but followed her.
