Exhibit A

I watched him pause and angle his hands dramatically in the middle of the road as he attempted to toss an empty Ribena can into a bin. The can fell a few inches short and his friends guffawed loudly. I smiled and kept walking till I drew up beside them.
“You’re no Lebron James. That’s sad.”
He flashed me a grin and replied “Not yet. I’m getting there though.”
I gave him my signature Macleans smile as I stretched out my hand to him.
“Bimpe. Nice to meet you.”
He shook my hand warmly as we moved along.
“Ola. Nice to meet you too.”
“You have really nice hands. Small, but nice.”
I couldn’t help it. His hands were indeed small and his palms were soft which in my experience was unusual for a guy.
“Small hands, large heart.” He said.
I laughed again.
“You’d need to adduce evidence to that. He who asserts must prove.”
“How about lunch for exhibit A?”
One of his friends whistled and I smiled. I hesitated for a few seconds.
“Sure thing. But do not assume that you’ll convince the court on the basis on a single piece of evidence.”
“As long as I have my time in court, I am more than happy to introduce as many as may be required.”
I shrugged. I didn’t even realise we’d been holding hands till we got to the end of the road. Reluctantly, I pulled mine away. I flashed him another Macleans smile and said,
“I’ll see you in court.”
No one told me Law School would be this interesting