The Captive ✔️ (#5 in the Our Side of The Dice series)

9. Dairy Milk Truck

Songs for this chapter are:

Lost my way - Lecrae

Shame - Andy Mineo, Josh Garrels

Frontal Lobe Muzik- Daniel Caesar & Pharrell Williams

Three months later

"Guy, wake up. Classes are over for today. Let's get going." A voice called in a hushed tone to my hearing. If it was not for the urgency that I could feel and the need for hurry telling by the feeling of his palm against my shoulders, I most likely would have snapped at the person who dared to wake me up from sleep that I was taking delight in.

But I raised my head slowly and covered my mouth after a failed move of trying to stifle my yawn and I open my eyes forcefully against its wishes to drift back into the darkness and I looked at the lanky figure standing next to me; the person who woke me up.

"Mustafa, What is it?" I asked him, still annoyed. He was laughing wildly afterward, pointing a finger at me whilst he dipped the other hand in his trouser pocket, a hand of his hanging lazily over one of his shoulders like it was gonna slip and fall.

"You are drooling babes!" He said, guffawing loudly. There was a loud bustle, babbling and murmuring in the classroom; sounds of students closing or locking their lockers, stacking their books together, and stomping out of the classroom with their friends, jesting and laughing could be heard. No one was paying attention to us. No one ever does anyway and I don't care because I have about three months left before I graduate from high school but it made me feel a lot less embarrassed nevertheless.

I wiped my mouth, where the saliva has dried up, and shook my head, realizing that school was truly over now for the day. I stood up, unzipped my bag open and put the books resting on my locker into my bag, and then zipped it back.

"You are pretty good at bag making, huh? You have been using that same bag since I met you and we are graduating soon yet you are still using the same bag. It's surprising that it still looks this new."

"Trust my skills, Mustafa," I said with an eye roll, hanging my bag over my shoulders as we stepped out of the class together. "But seriously though, I was dreaming about food when you woke me up. I'm still mad at you." I whined.

"The further math teacher asked about you anyway because he noticed you were not in class and you barely skip classes. So I assumed you were sick hence I lied to him that you were sick only for me to find you sleeping in class." He went on, ignoring what I said previously.

"Well, I practically was. I was going through one of my symptoms, you know? So I just took tranquilizers and slept off and started dreaming about food." I explained.

"How do you feel now?" He asked, wrapping one arm around my shoulder. I nod my head in the affirmative to express that I was feeling better and then I yanked his hand away from my shoulders in a playful manner, which made him laugh.

Mustafa is my best friend. We met through dance club activities while I was in my third year of high school and we have been friends ever since up till my sixth year now.

We were the best dancers and our tutors gave us the lead roles most of the time. Through that, we got to know each other and became friends over dance. He is a good former and sticks up for me more than I even do stick up for him. He covers up for me a lot because he is very understanding.

He knows about my illness and my pain and even my past. Talking to him about things honestly makes me feel because he truly does bear my burdens with me.

"What should we buy for lunch on our way home?" I asked, after hearing my stomach grumble a couple of times. We are walking down the last set of stairs and we are headed towards the exit gate.