Wait

Chapter One

"My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you."
Job 42:5

I really hate this place. Working here drains me but I have to. It's a punishment for not being the best. Yesterday I came back with my test results. 190/200 for Mathematics. My dad doesn't even want to talk to me. My mother didn't want me to have dinner with them.

My family is obsessed with success. Anything that isn't the best is regarded as useless to them. I was the highest in my grade for that test but that didn't matter to them. I was still a failure so my dad sent me to my uncle's resturant to wait tables for two weeks above all of the school work I have. They expect me to get 100% in all of my exams when they're making me work nights? I don't understand my parents. They live to torture me.

"We've got customers on table 8. I took their drink orders but I have to go talk to someone. Take their order and stop day dreaming," Onele, my cousin says. He hates me. Ever since I rejected him he has hated me. I mean, what did he expect? That I'd date him? My parents would kill me. I'd kill myself.

I rolled my eyes and made my way to table 8. There was a group of boys from my school. I recognised them. They were all sport boys. I knew their faces but not their names. "I'm Nyedzi and I'll be taking your order. What do you guys want?" I said. One if them looked up and smiled. "Are you on the menu?" he said. "Cliché." They all ooh'ed and ah'ed like idiots. When they were done, they looked at me.

"Your orders?" I asked. "We'll have rib burgers for 6 and chips," one of them said. He played basketball at school. He was one of the best and well known players so I recognised him. What was his name again? "Okay. Coming right up," I said. I went to the kitchen and gave their order.

I went to serve other tables and eventually got their order and delivered it to their table. "There you go." My cousin came with a tray of drinks and put them down on the table. "Hey, man!" One of them greeted. He was built like a rugby boy so I assumed he was one. "Hey. You good? I saw your last game. You were on fire man!" Onele said.

It was my time to leave. I was just about to walk away when basketball boy grabbed my wrist. I immediately pulled it back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was wondering if I could get your number. Please?" he said. He asked nicely but no. If I gave him my number in front of Onele, he'd tell my parents. They'd kill me. I didn't even want to give him my number. "No," I said and left.

"Just like that?" I heard his friends say. I wasn't interested in getting texts from girls telling me to stay away from their "man". I hated any sort of drama. At 20:00 when I finished my shift, he was still there. Basketball boy. If he thought he'd talk to me or get my number he was wrong. My father always came to pick me up exactly at 20:00 and take me home so I wouldn't do anything I wasn't here to do.

He walked towards me. "No," I said. "I didn't even say anything," he said. "Where are your friends?" I asked. "They left. I asked Onele when your shift ends. I waited for you." "You didn't have to. My dad is about to walk through that door and take me home any minute. This conversation won't last for long so you wasted your time," I said.

"I don't think it's a waste of my time. I'm taking to you right now, right?" "What do you want?" "Your number. I already asked." "And what are you going to do with my number?" I asked. "I'll text you. Get to know you. Become your friend," he said. I scoffed. No boy asks for your number so that he can become your friend. Anyone who accepts and believes such is naive.

"Friend? Yeah right. I think you've got more than enough friends. I don't even know you," I said. "I'm Amari." My dad walked in. "Amari, bye," I said before walking away. My father frowned.

"Who was that?" he asked when we got into the car. "Some guy who wanted to know if there was a vacancy. Apparently he's been job seeking all day," I said. "Didn't seem like the working type. Isn't he your age?" he asked. "I don't know." "Mhh," he said. That was the end of it. My dad hated small talk or any conversation that is not about work and success so the ride home was silent.

When I got home, I ate leftovers from dinner. My family eats dinner at 17:00. I went to my room and dropped on the bed. I was exhausted. This was my routine for about a week now. I hate it. My parents don't like to see me happy. A happy child is a useless one to them, probably.

I just want to get paid, be rich and leave this house forever but that's not possible. My dad makes it known almost everyday of my life that I'll pay back all of the money used on my education when I'm an adult. How nice.

I heard my phone's notification tone. I sat up and looked at it. It was a message on WhatsApp. It read:

Hey, Amari here. Just checking on my wife.

What is wrong with this boy? Doesn't he understand what 'no' means? And where did he get my number?!