I sit on the stairs to have my Lucozade then see Chai as he starts coming up the stairs from the ground floor. "Hey Chai! What are you having for tea today?"
Chai has some second generation immigrant cousins who live in Wales and they call dinner, 'tea'. "Not sure, I heard you had idiot for lunch with a side of Islamophobia," he replies.
He's talking about Alonzo, "Yeah, it was at this special restaurant, the waiter was so nice I gave him some sass as a tip."
He comes and sits down on the other side of the step I'm sitting on, "All the Muslim guys in school are laughing like crazy, you know. 'Alla hu ak bar you into next week,'" he starts laughing and I watch as he visibly shakes whilst doing so.
"They think the Guard is a terrorist organisation," I recall.
"How is Alonzo getting those 7s exactly?" Chai asks tutting and shaking his head.
"Maybe he actually studies," I say. "And can't rely on 'I'm Asian I get good marks automatically'."
"Yeah," Chai says blushing slightly. "The boys are always saying 'tie your camel, mate' but I'm like I study in school never out and I get 9s all year around."
"Well the boys are right," I declare. "And the minute your grade drops I'll be here ready to rub it in your face."
"What? Camel meat?" he asks.
"If I can find a place that sells it, it'll have to be imported and stuff," I say.
"Are you really imagining rubbing camel meat in my face?" he asks.
"No... I'm picturing cooking some camel meat with some rice and making you eat it."
"Anyone ever tell you that your a bit weird, Bonolo?" he asks.
"No, you're the first," I laugh. "Normally it's way worse, like crazy, deranged, psycho. All the good stuff."
He laughs then gets off the step, "Alright, I'll leave you to it then. I've got to get to class."
"Later, Chai."
He waves his end up as he walks away, "Later, Bunga."
A/N
The picture at the top is camel meat biryani, just to clarify Chai is not saying it's weird to eat camel meat he's saying that Bunga is a bit weird for fantasising in her head how she's going to punish him by feeding him it.
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That Melody
Teen FictionWhat do you do when your mum's favourite song becomes the source of your trauma? Bunga can't listen to that melody anymore, not without having a PTSD episode, what used to be a part of her happy memories were twisted and contorted into painful ones...
