Point of return

Are you afraid?” Martina asked Maria. And there was Maria already defending herself, “afraid? Is that even a word?"
“That was rather quick. You literally almost jumped out of your skin when I asked that. You are nervous and scared, I would say. And downright shaking.  And you know you don’t have to do it if you are not ready, don’t you?
But Maria was not one to be discouraged. It was a point of no return. “Don’t you even go there. We have been through this. I am doing it. I am actually doing it.” And now jumping while throwing her hands all over, it was unclear whether it was nervousness or excitement but she was screaming, “Martina, I am seriously going to do this incredibly crazy thing! It is however important to note that if anything goes wrong, it’s on you. Wasn’t it your idea? Was it not?"And off she was gone.
Her friend was confused whether to wonder what had got into her head or to run after her and stop all this crap. But this crap at this moment meant the world to Maria.  And Martina, her longtime friend (well, long enough to know the extent of damage Matayo had caused her), knew this. She watched her friend walk gracefully and she sank into the grass and hoped, even prayed for the best. Back to damage; Maria Magdalena Mahanda or “Triple M” as they called her was a troubled lady. A damaged one in her head, in her heart and clearly manifested in her performance in her work, her studies and social life. She was not half as efficient as she once was. She paid less and less and less attention to her studies and of course the detriment of that is quite obvious. Luckily for her, even without much studying, she still managed to pass. She was brilliant. Her social life was a mess. She did not interact very well with people around her, she felt uncomfortable and distant and out of place, poor Maria. Most of the time, she preferred to stay locked away in her room all by herself. Not that she did not like her friends, no. She just did not appreciate people crowding her space and she sometimes felt guilty for that. She hated it when she had to make  something up to send them away so that she could be left alone. She was not a liar; she just loved her freedom. And her privacy. 
This girl was a very private human being. When other girls would change their clothes publicly, she would be ashamed for them. She didn’t understand why anyone would do that. Why anyone would expose some “fundamental” parts of them and smile like nothing is wrong. But deep down, she sometimes wished she could be like everyone else. That she could fit in and be free. Be like other girls in many aspects except in the aspect of makeup. She loathed makeup. That and the way some girls treated relationships so casually. Just for fun, they said, and that sent fury waves through this lady that found relationships a big, big, very big deal. Big enough that she had never managed or even thought of getting herself into one. Because they are an incredibly big deal. And the girls stared at her with their cheap lip gloss fake smiles and there again she felt that familiar pang of rejection and complete alienation. Yet she felt she could share a room for a decade with Matayo without feeling anything but absolute happiness. She was not sure about the changing-her-clothes part though. But Triple M was sure of one thing: She could live in Kalahari Desert, Sahara Desert, Namib, Atacama, Mojave and Gibson deserts simultaneously and without a shred of sadness. Simply put, Matayo was joy and joy was Matayo. That was precisely why she went to seek him that day.
Matayo was an overly handsome man. Maria had noticed this the first second she set her eyes on him. That was two years, three months, one day and seventeen hours ago, around the same time she met Martina. She notice his height, his broad shoulders and a few other things she had never noticed in any man before. She even noticed the white T-shirt he had worn beneath his clean, well pressed, striped shirt and how much of a good boy it made him look. She thought she was going crazy and she was right. She was immeasurably crazy over this tall, handsome, athletic son of somebody. She was always blown away by his killer smile and perfect dentition. How they accessorized his already manly and dark skin. Normally she would have loved some beard to complete these good looks but abnormally, she loved him just the way he was. The thought of all that awesomeness compelled her to fasten her strides and widen her smile. She was finally going to profess her love for this unbelievable man. She was excited and let’s not even begin to talk about the level of the blend of anxiety and nervousness and fear that consumed her now that she was approaching his room. She had never been in it before but he had mentioned his room number to her many months back and of course she had not forgotten it just like she could never forget any detail of any conversation they had ever had. She even remembered why his cousin’s friend had sold his favorite duck and how his sister’s ex-boyfriend had choked on goat ribs on his grandmother’s friend’s burial. She liked to lie to herself that it was due to her excellent memory but she knew the real reason. Anyone would know.
She did not know if she would be welcome at his premises and how Dear Matayo would react to the news. She wondered if he would jump with joy and lift her high in the process. If he would inform her about how long he had waited to hear those words from her rosy lips. For the three hundred and seventeenth time she asked herself loudly if she thought Matayo would take her news enthusiastically and almost immediately heard Martina’s voice, “he will love you, sugar. You will tell me a good story tonight.” And now for the hundred and eighteenth time she asked herself the exact same question. This time, she did not require her friend’s voice or any other voices in her head to reassure her. Matayo’s friends walked past her speaking about the gorgeous lady that was in Matayo’s room the previous night. They were so deep in their conversation that they didn’t even notice her. That gorgeous lady must have been really gorgeous. She was broken. At that exact moment, Handsome Matayo emerged from the common men’s room with a towel wrapped around his waist and no other garment to conceal his perfect physique. He had obviously just taken a shower and he looked attractive as hell. “Hey Maria!” came his magnificently deep voice and our girl froze and instantly lacked words. “I…er…er…I had…uh…I’d come to see a friend at 412 but he is not around. I’ll…uh…I will leave now Matayo. Good to see you”. And she was gone.
“Maria, would you…like to meet my sister” But she was gone. “…she is just here in my room…” She was really gone.
Matayo stood there for a minute with an amused smile and Maria returned to her depression. Back to her damage. Fast.