For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and for these two, their lives have been planned down to a science.
For Wylan Olson, being yourself can be very stressful. Since she was young, her emotions have always been backwards. The e...
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"Mom, you don't even have to go. All you need to do is pick me up at three." I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things as she followed me closely.
"You're not going to get a coat? It's cold outside Wy."
I sighed, grabbing a jacket. Wars with parents were wars that I never won. "Mom, did you ask Ms. Achebe if she had anything we could use in the booth?"
She rummaged through the bag of things I had gathered. "You aren't going to wear your outfit?"
I shook my head. I was becoming annoyed, but I tried my best to hide it. For some reason, my mother had a tendency to chastise me about trivial things. "I'm going to put it on when I get there; it's too cold right now. Did you talk to Ms. Achebe?"
She handed me the phone. Ms. Achebe was my family practitioners wife, and though she was Trinidadian, she might as well have been Nigeria. Out of pride and courtesy, she had agreed to offer us some cultural items for the local International Fair since my high school was representing Nigeria. My mother had explained to me that Ms. Achebe had journeyed all across town on a search for items that could aid us.
"You text her," I responded while staring at the phone. You're the mother.
At least I'd get my license soon, and I wouldn't have to rely on her to chauffeur me around. I really didn't want to be late to the International Fair, but considering my mother had a tendency to call ahead for early dismissals and still manage to arrive late, it seemed inevitable.
That's why I told her it started at eight o'clock instead of nine forty-five. We finally got in the car at seven forty-five, but she spent five minutes doing her make-up in the mirror. People who needed a face of make-up at all times annoyed me.
She haphazardly replied, "What? It'll only take us ten minutes." However, we lived twenty minutes outside of the city, and the park was on the other side of town.
I shrugged, picking at my nails. "We need to go soon unless you plan on keeping her waiting. Didn't she say she wanted to get to Bible study?"
At the mention of church, my mother became hasty. "Oh, okay, we're pulling off now. Text her that." She didn't know that I had explained to everyone else that the fair began at nine, so her haste wasn't necessary.
Once we finally reached the park, and I retrieved the items and made my way towards the tent. Maybe I'd be able to think without my mother's scrutiny for the next few hours.
After helping set up and getting fully dressed, I assisted the other girls in tying their headbands and such. We traveled around the ring of tents, looking at the countries other teams created.
As far as roles went, I communicated the information for the items I brought while the others rotated to the other stations. Sometime during the day, Kwame entered the tent, filled a position, and stayed there. His friends came in spurts, and when they were present, I made sure to be as far away as possible.
The only time I addressed him was to ask if he could relieve me of my bantering while I went to go get lunch. He did, but even then, I was without the ability to eat for very long because no one else knew the material. "Hey, Wylan, can you please come over here for a second?"
As I slurped a rice noodle, I looked up to see who had addressed me, considering I had my face pretty much buried in my food. Just then, I heard a crash behind one of the walls of the tent and discovered a small child, running away from Kwame.
I sighed, closing my Styrofoam container and smoothing my dress out. "Stand on that end, and I will stand on this one, if the kid comes your way, grab him, okay?" He nodded as I lifted the green sheet and went in to find my half pint target.
The little boy was sitting on the metal rod that stabilized the base of the tent, staring at me. His little blonde Mohawk shook, as he backed away from me. "Hey buddy," I cooed as I squatted down to his height. He widened his eyes and took off in the other direction, completely bypassing Kwame and lunging under one of the tables.
As I watched in horror, an ancient mask trembled on the table. "Grab it, Kwame!" I screamed, pointing at the relic. The kid passed again, finally popping from under the arts and crafts table.
Kwame stood there dumbfounded as the kid bobbed through the mask making section, and virtually headed for Southeast Asia on the other side of the ring. I sat down in my chair and upon hearing; the pop of Styrofoam immediately regretted my decision.
My Filipino food became part of my ensemble. I stormed to the artifacts table, picked up my bag containing my change of clothes.
Kwame laughed at me and I rolled my eyes, "Turn around Okari." I pulled the dress off in the middle of the tent. Thank God, I wore a tank top. I pulled on my shirt, and wiped the noodles from the dress back into the flattened container. I laid the dress over the back of a vacant chair and went to throw the container away.
"Wylan, are you feeling alright?" Someone asked from behind me. I turned around to see my club moderator, Mrs. Adams, staring at me.
"I'm sorry about the kid. I just— there was a blonde Mohawk one second and burnt grass the next. Also, I may or may not have brought the Philippines to Nigeria," I gestured to the container and the dress in the tent.
"That's fine, it's not mine anyways."
My eyes widened. "Did that belong to—" She held up a hand. "It'll be fine. Now go clean up, look around, and I will handle the tent for a while."
I actually breathed. She seemed to know exactly what to say to make me feel better. On my trek down the hill, someone's heavy footsteps caught my attention. I turned only to see Kwame jogging towards me.
"I wanted to look around too, hope that's not a problem."
"The fair is that way." I pointed in the other direction, where he'd just come from.
"Ah, I thought it was with you," he winked and walked towards me. I made a movement to run when he slid down the hillside. As he stood up, I saw the enormous grass stain on the back of his pants. I stared with amusement as he wiped the grass from his body.
"Well that's a stylish touch, Okari."
He turned around, trying to twist far enough to see his stain. "These were new pants!" he whined.
"You poor baby," I taunted. I turned to run again before he reached out his leg to trip me and slid into a split.
"Well, do you want to go get a funnel cake, or do you want to just sit here and chuckle at me?"
My stomach growled and I sighed. "Oh, I think I would like to sit here with a funnel cake and laugh at you. Hold that pose; I'll be back in a second." I walked to the other side of the park, approaching concessions as he finally made his way up the hill, trying to inspect the stain.
