THE GIRL AT WORK

The Girl at Work

I never really noticed her.

Or maybe I always did, and I'm just pretending otherwise.

She sat in the very front row of the office, and there was something about her demeanor that always felt... mean. Not cruel, necessarily, just guarded. The kind of girl who looked permanently angry, sad, or serious, as though she had something to prove by never letting her guard down. I didn't dislike her. She simply belonged to that category of people you instinctively assume you'll never be friends with.

And that was okay.

My relationship with her was nonexistent. She buried herself in work or so i assumed and I minded my own business. We occupied the same office but existed in completely different worlds.

Then the whispers started.

The quiet kind of office gossip that somehow reaches everyone. Stories about who she liked, who she was dating and who she supposedly had waiting on the sidelines. People talked about her friendships too, describing them as toxic,one I can't fully go into details.

I couldn't understand how someone so quiet, so seemingly reserved, could have so much drama orbiting around her.

None of it mattered to me.

Until her existence started inching uncomfortably close to mine.

I'm about to sound incredibly petty, but hear me out.

Do y'all remember when I hinted that I liked a guy from Baringo?

Oh yes.

It's always about a guy.

By then, things between the Baringo guy and me had gone terribly south. We weren't talking anymore. I'd love to tell you I was comfortable with the silence, but between me and God, that would be a lie.

Whenever he'd walk through the office door, we'd exchange those painfully awkward greetings people give each other when there's far too much left unsaid. The tension between us was thick enough to be sliced with a knife.

Then I started noticing them.

I don't know how their friendship (or relationship)began, but suddenly they were everywhere. I'd leave the office to check on work at the site, and there they'd be.

Talking.

Laughing.

The first thing that crossed my mind was, "Haiyaaa... kumbe unaeza cheka?"

The second?

"Aiii... kwani what's so funny?"

I wish I could tell you I ignored it.

I didn't.

I'd casually find reasons to stand near them, pretending to be occupied while shamelessly eavesdropping. I wanted to know what they were talking about. What could possibly be so interesting? What foundation did these conversations have that made them happen so effortlessly?

For the sake of sanity, fairness,and because memory deserves honesty,she was always the one who initiated the conversations.

She'd ask him questions about SDAs. She'd tell him stories about her evenings. She'd talk about her boring life and she'd even go for lunch at Mathe at the exact time that he would. Just the other day she shifted from her front seat to the back row where my Baringo guy sat with his friends. I swear to God, she'd leave everything to be around them.

It wasn't that she followed him.

It was that, from where I stood, it felt impossible not to notice how often she chose to be where he was.

As the days passed, I watched his friends make room for her too.

They'd ask where she'd been if she wasn't around. They included her in conversations. They laughed about inside jokes and hangouts they'd shared.

And for reasons I couldn't fully explain, it bothered me to my core.

Everything she did became magnified in my mind.

I noticed that she smiled more now. I noticed the way she tied her hair, and somehow convinced myself it looked like mine. I noticed how she'd smile at me whenever we crossed paths, almost cautiously, as though we were becoming... friendly.

And because jealousy is an excellent storyteller, my mind created narratives where none probably existed.

Was that smile saying, We're cool now?

Or was it saying, I'm in the family now bitch!.

Ridiculous.

She seemed happier, lighter. And in my head, there was only one explanation was its my Baringo guy (not mine anymore,has never actually been) who made her happier.

I had somehow convinced myself that every version of happiness she displayed had his fingerprints all over it.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, she started getting close to my friends.

Or rather, my friends got close to her.

They'd chat. She'd join us occasionally. And every single time, she'd mostly sit there smiling, listening while the rest of us talked.

Still, it bothered me.

I kept wondering what they spoke about when I wasn't around.

I remember calling one of my long-distance friends to rant about what I dramatically described as the rise of the devil. From invisibility to her sitting at the throne of my core existence.

I complained about how confident I'd become in Baringo only for this tiny seed of jealousy to undo all that progress.

My friend listened patiently before asking one question.

"How is jealousy robbing you of your confidence?"

I paused.

Then I answered, slowly, carefully,almost embarrassed by the person I was becoming.

Picture this.

You're confident in the way you look.

The way you dress.

The way you speak.

The way you connect with people.

Then someone else walks into the room.

And suddenly, jealousy begins whispering.

They're prettier than you.

They dress better.

They're funnier.

They're easier to talk to.

Maybe people like them more.

The cruel part is that none of those things have to be true.

Jealousy simply convinces you they are.

And before long, it steals the very confidence you once carried so effortlessly.

When I finished explaining it, I sat with the silence.

As I wrote this, there she was, sitting across from me, completely unaware that she has occupied so much space in my head. Oh! Knowing the stories revolving around her, I think she is aware of what she is doing and she enjoys chasing shamelessly.

She has no idea that I watched her this closely. That I measured her smiles, decoded her conversations and turned her into the villain of a story she didn't even know she was in.

I remain confident in this;my friends will remain to be my friends and in hushed tones we'll say"What's with her?" 

Or we'll create a friend group and the story will pop up and remain with us till the end of this working period.

To the girl at work; female version of Jonasi (Main character in the polygamist if you haven't watched the series)

you can have your Baringo guy.

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Hello lovely readers!! Mimi kama gangster wamenifanyia ile kitu waaaaiiiiiii

I hope you are well. If you aren't sending love,light and hugs.

It wasn't my intention to disappear and then come back with drama but here it is served hot!

I hope you loved this entry. If you are new here please don't judge me by this post!

To my bosses if you ever read this, I promise every character here is a work of fiction!

I'm really pressed writing about "The engineer at work". I have some exposing to do.

Anyway like, share, subscribe, comment about the drama. Is this messy or just okay!

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