The Thief is Not Okay

Chapter 2: Caleb the Halfwit.

My goodness.

I can feel my heartbeat in my ears. He's indifferent, of course he is, it's my body that's running a marathon on a spot. Not his. He catches the phone and hands it to me. His low-cut is clean and wavy.

"Thank you." I finally say, before taking it from him. Kelly's ahead, waiting in line. I can hear her call my name, but I can't move. At least, not until he moves. He only gave me a faint nod in response.

Chikezie walks off to join the others, he didn't say anything. He's dressed in a white shirt paired with grey sweatpants.

The others.

I turn away from the group of friends he came with. Hoping he doesn't tell them he saw me. I hurry to my sister's side. She asks why I stopped and I tell her. She asks who the guy was and I tell her. She asks why I don't want her to say hey to my classmates, mid-wave, I pull her hand down and hush her. Kelly's the social one between the two of us. I tell her to please keep it quiet just for today, please. I don't know if she sense something is up but she agrees and we go in without anymore surprises. I let out a breath once we sit down.

Chikezie Gerard Nnaji. Everyone calls him, Kez. I know his full name because his physics teacher asked some of us to help him sort the marked scripts. Chikezie got an A plus. I rolled my eyes at his script, it was expect. He only failed one questions, one. The dude was on his way to becoming Head Boy and Valedictorian. I heard he was in a coma at age eleven, that's why he's a class behind. Kez likes to keep to himself but that never worked out so he settled for the next best thing. They were a group of three; him, Chimaobi (goes by Chima) and Paul Frances. Those two are the only people he let hang around him, anymore than that and he was done. The last time Chima ever tried to add another boy to their group chat, Caleb the Halfwit: that's what Syd and I call him; she came up with it (he's friends with Chima—Chima's friends with everybody), Kez left the group chat and ignored Chima for a full week. Kez has a brother and two sisters. I've met his younger brother, they're exactly the same. Face, demeanor. The whole thing. But David scowls a lot.

Chima never did that again.

At least, so I heard.

Gossip at Mayfair ran like wildfire. It's most likely Kez had already seen the pictures. I don't want to let myself wonder what went through his head when he saw me. I heard Chima laughing behind me before I made my escape. These guys are wicked smart and talented. All three always come in first in their respective classrooms, Chima's in mine. He has no competition. Or rather, no one stood a chance. Chima's the jovial athlete. Paul Frances the artist. And Kez's the silent one.

He didn't talk much. No. He didn't talk at all. Unless he had to answer questions or contest in a debate, he prefers to stay silent. Which a lot of us find attractive. That and he's actual face and body. He's a six foot two Prince.

He can't ever do wrong in our eyes.

It's not our fault, he's just an aesthetic human being that we peasants are only privileged to share the same breath with.

I'm not worried about him telling anyone he saw me. To be honest, I'm not even sure he knows who I am. That's hurtful to think about but it's good. It's good he doesn't know me. I like that. I watch the movie, it's scary. The popcorn isn't helping, the fact I'm sitting at the corner, next to wall, is. I notice someone familiar, he's laugh is unmistakably.

Chima.

He laughs a lot. Sometimes it doesn't have to be funny, he might just find the way you said it funny and he'll laugh. He's a happy child, and has four brothers before him then two sisters after him. Chima isn't rude or stoic, he's sweet and friendly. The most friendly amongst the trio. He eats his popcorn with his eyes on the screen. Right next to him is Kez, I think. If it not then that's okay, but I'm certain that's Chima. He chuckles this time, I imagine his dimples. They only made him cuter.

Syd texts me back. I told her I ran into Kez.

Syd: What?! What did you do? Did he say anything?

Me: No. You know how he is.

Syd: True. You don't think he saw them, do you?

Me: He probably did but I don't think he knows we go to the same school. He must think I'm one of those girls Caleb meets outside school.

Syd: Or he doesn't care what Caleb does. You know he doesn't like him right?

That is true. Caleb isn't a coward favorite.

Me: Yeah. Maybe that.

Syd: I'm sorry this is happening to you.

Me: Don't be. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault but mine.

Syd: It's not your fault but that halfwit's. I don't like him! I really don't! I want to slap him hard across the face and stuff hard thick dough down his throat and let him choke until he turns purple. Then I'll take him to the hospital but not until he turns full purple!

I chuckle softly at her text and send a laughing emoji and a heart.

I don't have many friends in school, besides Caleb, who I don't hang out or talk to anymore, Syd is the only one I really talk to and she isn't even in my class. She's in Paul Frances class.

Sydney Kingsley is a month older than me, we started talking during the inter-school sports competition. We were paired as teammates, us and two other girls, for the girls relay. She's fast, I'm fast too, I got to be the anchor. Syd transferred to Mayfair a week before me, so we were still trying to find our way around the mammoth school of forty acres, fortified with thick concrete walls. Syd is cool and had natural brown hair. She complains about it sometimes, says she'd dye it black once she graduates. I like Syd. She's honest. She's kind. She sees the good in everyone and everything. All except Caleb. She loathes him. Not for what he did to me (that just adds to it) but because he's—in her words—not very nice. Her first day, she saw him shove a junior aggressively at a wall because he didn't get him the right juice box. Syd didn't understand why I dated him but she threw me a mini party in my room when she found out it was over.

Oh yeah—Syd bakes. Her gluten free cookies are amazing. I can't get enough.

She knows I stole the questions papers for him. She didn't like that I did it but she understood why. That's why she can't fathom what was going through that small brain of his when he decided to ruin my life.

Neither can I.

After the movie, we make it to the car without being spotted. Not that anyone's paying attention. We get home. Everyone's probably asleep so we try not to make loud noises. We tell ourselves goodnight.

My room will be lonely.

I want to tell her, right now.

Instead of going to my room, I stand at her door, overwhelmed with emotions, my hand's on the door handle but I don't turn it. I don't open it. I mean, if I tell her now, she's only make things worse by taking my phone and texting Caleb. Kelly can be very articulate when angry and she has no filter. I think the summer she spent with my aunty in London taught her a few things. If she does that, then I'll be giving him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me. He's a sadist; if you don't know by now. He once made a girl eat dirt, she was poor, she needed the money—allegedly. I wasn't there but more than one person have backed the story.

Ugh, I hate him.

I'll tell her tomorrow when she lands, that way she'll be too far away to reach for me phone. I let her sleep. She has an early flight tomorrow.

Let's not bother her.