That Lonely Black Boi

[7] Oh. That's Omar?

"But, I can do you a favor and fix you with this class' best students."

Happiness could be seen in Omar's desperate eyes, "thank you sir." He nearly hugged Mr. Berkeley.

Wait a minute? We were the three brightest stars in our class. Simultaneously, the three of us frowned at Mr. Berkeley for him to stop what he was about to do.

"I guess you can join Sahar's group."

The fuck is wrong with that old man? I've had enough on my plate than to work on a project with my adversary.

"Thank you so much Mr. Berkeley." Omar thanked, nearly jumping in the air and kissing the old man's chalky feet.

My insecurity grew thicker and it enveloped me. He was intimidating and yet I was intimidated by every American student I came across at Atlanta. As he took the empty seat that was supposed to be Francis' my nervousness kicked in instantly. I couldn't help but look at everything that he had that was my flaws: his perfectly trimmed brows, his smooth pimple-free face, his skin tone and everything I dare not ask for and not be seen as ungrateful.

"Hi. Your the new kid, right?"

I could feel his breath on my face. Even his breath smells nice.

"Nice hair." All I could think of was to compliment my adversary.

"This is the way we're doin' it pandejó." Sahar drew her seat closer to mine, flashing frowns at Omar and suddenly I felt happy, "you are following my orders, you're not the boss of us — right?" Sahar inquired, facing me and Francis for our opinion.

"Yeah." My vocal cords decided to increase their volume. I was overjoyed that Sahar and Omar are on bad terms. It was time for me to brainstorm good ideas quickly. "What are we doing? I think we all should make a neutron detector." I suggested, knowing well that a neutron projector was a project that can never be done by highschool kids.

"You sure?" Omar inquired, "I mean no harm bruh, but y'all know that it's impossible."

In that moment, I felt a surge of bitter disappointment and frustration as my carefully thought-out idea for a neutron detector was summarily rejected by good-for-nothing Omar Alvarez. My face contorted with a mix of anger and envy, and my eyes narrowed with a seething resentment as I watched him willing to take credit for a concept I had worked so hard to create.

"Nothing is impossible." Francis took my side, "I think we can make it."

Sahar sucked on her teeth, "I think I'll agree with Omar," saying that my heart thumped, "a neutron detector is a wild project we'll spend a lot on getting it done, just because of an A? Besides, my pa doesn't have that kind of cash." She explained, and for the first time of my stay in Atlanta I felt irritated by Sahar's accent. I was slightly angry at her for inadvertently calling my idea stupid.

"Okay, come up with something, ọmọ ode." I uttered with a venomous hiss, slipping from my lips in a hushed — angry whisper.

Fool.

"What did you just call me?" Omar furrowed an eyebrow.

Anxiety crawled inside my skin as he threw a death glare at me. He looked like he was going to murder me. "I said you should come up with something." I corrected my angry and rude sentences.

"A'ight. I think we should work on stain removal gas. I mean we know all the basic chemicals that could wipe off stains, why can't we just evaporate them into one another? I mean we're gonna get an A easily. Who's with me?" Omar said with a smug look on his face.

"I love your idea Imran, but Omar's is just as easy as naming the first-fifty elements. I think we should go with him." Sahar said and I could perceive her dishonesty, she never liked my idea not to talk of love — she was just trying to be nice and that was just pissing me off. "Or Fran, do you have any ideas of your own?" She questioned, looking at Francis.

Francis was surprised and beads of sweat started forming on his forehead as the three of us stared at him, waiting for his opinion. He sure was nervous, he was mute for some minutes before the word he had perfectly recited inside his head came flying out of his mouth. "I think we should work on the stain removal gas." He answered, smiling at Omar like a little prick he was.

Such a betrayer! I thought I was his friend.

"Dawg, what do you say? Do we go with my gas-idea?" He turned at me, giving a mischievous glance.

I despised the expression on his face, as if he had attained something I longed for deeply. While my feelings for Sahar were unmistakable, I had always managed to avoid any humiliation in his presence. But the question was: How did he discover my affection for Sahar? All I could contemplate was punching his pretty face and yanking off his tightly coiled locks. However, I hesitated, mindful of not wanting to be labeled as a 'violent Nigerian.' I promptly rose from my seat, determined to exit the toxic atmosphere our small group had unwittingly created.

"Where are you going?" Francis inquired, grabbing my hands from the back.

I slowly yanked my hand off his, I was angry at Omar and not him so I hesitated in losing the one first friend I had managed to make.

"Probably going back to Nigeria." Omar snickered.

"Excuse me." I breathed, not wanting to fight with the guy that could easily break me in two. I had no choice than to retreat.

On my way out of the classroom, I could hear Sahar and Omar arguing, a smile crept out of my mouth as I heard Sahar defending me.

"That's not cool Omar, you always do that. I never should have allowed you in my group." She intoned, every word laced with anger.

Anger is fine for me though.

Author's Note

Well hello there y'all. I'm so sorry this chapter was short, I apologize for that. How've you been? I've never two-timed on Wattpad before so I haven't been great. Enough about me tho, we all have that teacher that always wants to be funny or liked by students — comment down your own my Berkeley — and what idea would you choose if you were in Sahar's group? I know y'all are lazy, so I know the obvious answer.

Either ways; comment, fan and vote. See you in the next chapter!

Glossary

1. Eid: Eids are occasions of joy, prayer, feasting for Muslims and giving to those in need.

2. Meninist: is the masculine of feminist.

3. Ọmọ ode: Yoruba language for fool