Ditching Greek | editing

04| Campus Curfew

"I want to talk to them," I announced nervously.

Clyde didn't move, not even an inch. He was as still as a sculpture, frozen in one position. His eyes were affixed on me, almost as if he hadn't heard me speak at all. "I'll tell you where they are. But before you go though, can I ask a question?"

"Depends on what you ask," I countered.

"It's nothing personal, I promise," he said, getting off the bed and on to his feet.

"Okay, you can ask it. But only if I can ask one, too."

He smiled sweetly. "Go ahead."

"You never fully explained what it was you said you saw in me. What was it?" I paused. "My father's net-worth?"

"No, that's not it." His smile faltered and faded, melting into a lopsided frown. "I'm not interested in your father's money. Far from it."

"Sure," I rolled my eyes. "Why else would you already know who my father is and what he does? I'm not buying this clueless act, buddy."

Clyde scoffed and chucked his phone to the bed, sliding it towards my thighs. "Okay, then. Look up who Dulani Salgado is." He then proceeded to spell out the name for me.

Patiently, I waited for the page to load. My jaw tightened after the results showed up, astounding me at what I saw. "You mean Queen Dulani Salgado, ruler of Narmanzil." She was the ruling class in a tiny island nation. I struggled with the pronunciation, rereading it over again. "I'm pretty sure I butchered all of that," I laughed.

"It's okay. You were close. Just roll the r more," he suggested.

I attempted it once more, winning a thumbs up from Clyde. "Who is she?"

"She's my grandmother." He answered. "Do you know anything about Narmanzil?"

"I know it's near Sri Lanka and India," I recalled, picturing it on the globe in my head. "It's an island, right?"

"Right! It's actually three separate islands. One large and two smaller ones on both ends of the island. I'm surprised you actually know anything about it. Many don't."

"Well, it's among one of the few countries, along with North Korea, that non-native born citizens  can't easily enter. Everyone learns that in school."

"It's not just hard to enter, it's impossible for non-natives. You'd get kicked out if you showed up to any of the ports without a Narmanzil passport or Narmanzil government issued ID. It's also rather difficult to leave."

"How'd you get out then?"

"That's a secret I can't share." He put his index finger over his lips, shushing me. "Very top secret."

"I'm guessing your grandmother took care of it."

"More or less," he smirked.

"Wait, where do you get the name Clyde Remington from then? That doesn't sound native to what comes from those islands."

"My father wasn't a native. I got his name because he was killed before I was born. He was an American. He's among the few people in the world who aren't native from the island but still were granted access."

As fascinating this all was, I hoping he could get to his question so I could get out of this frat house and find my roommates. "So, what was it you wanted to ask me?"

"Oh, right, I want to know if Nabela is your real name?"

I reeled back, blinking at him. The randomness in his question wasn't what struck me as odd, but the way he said it did raise a few questions of their own. His voice had lowered and he spoke faster. I was seconds away from asking him to repeat himself because it came out as a mutter.