Eighteen O' Five {ONGOING}🇳🇬

•~~Chapter Three~~•

"What's that? What did you say?" I asked, to be sure I heard her right?

"Nothing."

She gulped her Fanta and I watched it roll down her throat.

"Well, I just wanted to ask if you know her. I've noticed she's alone most of the time. Is she prideful or something?”

"Proud ke! Someone that nobody wants to be her friend around here. She's lonely as fuck. She stays with her grandma though so maybe she’s not totally alone sha," Rera mused before taking another sip of her drink.

“Why does nobody want to be her friend though?”

I offered her part of my sausage roll when I noticed she had finished her biscuit already.

“No, thank you,” she refused, waving her hand dismissively at the snack. “Anyways, according to the story, I heard when she was ten—or was it twelve? I’m not really sure—her house caught fire. Her family died in the fire. Her mom, her dad, and her brother. Except for her, of course. Nothing happened to her. No one could find a single burn anywhere.”

"Wow! Mad o! But if her family died in the fire, that should be enough reason for people to even care for her and be her friend na. This life is unfair o," I said, after emptying the rest of my Coca-Cola drink down my throat.

"Yes, I know. This life no balance. They should care for her, someone that came out of the fire unburnt. When she's not, um, that girl from Game Of Thrones…I’ve forgotten her name,” Rera shrugged. “Everyone in town thinks she’s a witch.”

"What the—a witch? Why na? What's wrong with people?"

"Be speaking English there,” she laughed drumming her empty Fanta bottle on the bench absently. “For some reason, they all believe she killed them on purpose, to make donations to her witch society or something. Because of that, no one likes coming near her. Everyone loves their lives too much.”

"Wait, Aderera, don't tell me you believe that nonsense too." I stopped her from drumming.

"I don't know what to believe, dear, but think about it," she told me, looking away and pulling her hands away from mine. But I didn’t think anything about it, my mind filled with anger and disbelief.

What the fuck is wrong with the people in this town?

I couldn't imagine someone, a 10-year old girl for that matter, being tagged a witch just because God spared her life during a fire accident. A fire she probably didn't know the cause of.
And then there was me after my mom's death. I was taken care of like I was made of glass, never blamed for her death or the accident talk less of being labeled as a witch.

This town is shit, I decided, burying my head in my palms. I was filled with another emotion. Disappointment.

I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and raising my head, I saw two male students walking to the tree where we sat.

I probably wouldn’t have cared if their physical appearance hadn’t startled me. Both of them were the direct opposite of my average and lean figure. They were twice as big as I was and taller.

They strutted towards us, their chests pushed out arrogantly and an obnoxious spring in their steps.
"Hey, babe! Your guy wants to talk to you," one of them said when they reached our spot.

Silence.

"Na you we dey follow talk na," he boomed in pidgin English after he got no response, his large ego obviously bruised. "You don dey proud abi?"
While their attention was fixed firmly on Rera, as if I wasn’t sitting right there, I took the opportunity to study them closely. The loud one was dressed roughly, the part of his hair peeking from under his face cap barely brushed and his ripped jeans dirty in some places. He obviously loved being the centre of attention while his friend, whose head was dyed a shockingly bright red, preferred being silent. With a cool gaze equally fixed on Rera and his hands hidden in the pockets of his designer joggers, he appeared calm and collected. He looked like he was the thinker among the two of them while the other one was the loud yet dumb pawn.

"Wait first, are you mad!? Is something wrong with you?" Aderera yelled, tapping the side of her head with her index finger.

I just observed, deciding not to interfere in their business until the first guy just had to put me in the matter.

"No, be your fault. Na because of this dada guy you no get our time again."
"Watch it, bro. Watch it," I cautioned cooly, refusing to be insulted but heaven knew it was nothing but an empty threat. If they decided to start a fight, I was sure to lose a tooth or two.
"You’ve heard him, haven’t you? Stay down. The final warning is this one. Leave the princess," the second guy, the red-headed one finally spoke, his furious glare fixed on me.

I simply stared at him.

He was an admittedly handsome guy, nice body build, good height but the shit that came out of his mouth was really stupid. I immediately changed my theory of him being calm, collected and smart because, with his silly outburst, it was obvious that he was anything but. It was no wonder he’d decided to stay quiet at first.
Baba, you should have stayed quiet, or better still, spoken pidgin.

The response of silence from me and Aderera tired them, and soon they were forced to walk away when they realised we won’t be talking anytime soon, bouncing on their right feet in the same manner they approached us.
The whole situation was hilarious to me. Especially with the way the red-headed guy spoke. But with a look at the girl beside me, I realised it must have been embarrassing for Rera. From the anger I could see on her usually bored face, I thought she would have shot them if she had a gun with her.

"Rera, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend. A red-headed boyfriend for that matter," I teased and she turned her glare at me.

"Stop it! He is not my boyfriend. He's just one of those stupid boys that think they own me just because their fathers are close to mine. Me! A whole me for that matter—” she took one look at my amused face and shot up to her feet, annoyed and set to leave  “Abeg, just stop. I’m not in the mood."
"But he called you his princess, and you didn't even—" I snickered, unable to help myself.

"He didn't call me his princess,” she spat, looking frustrated when I still didn’t seem to get the point. “He called me princess because I am one. Duh!" She turned her back to me and started walking back towards the classroom as I stared after her, shell-shocked.

Eventually, I collected my wits and raced after her. She had to be kidding.
"Princess? You're a princess? Are you for real?"

"What did you think the “Ade” in my name was for? Decoration?” she asked, not bothering to spare me a glance as she kept walking.

"Well, actually, yes. Almost everyone has “Ade” in their names these days, whether or not they’re royalty.”
"See, Mide. I don’t really care, believe whatever you want."

"Wait, be serious for a minute,” I begged just as we got to our class’s door. “Are you actually Ibudun's princess, as in, the king's daughter gangan?"

"No,” she said, stopping to look me dead in the eyes and I sighed in relief, thinking she had just been kidding. “Queen Elizabeth's daughter,” she finished, rolling her eyes and walking into the classroom, leaving me at the door. My eyes almost bulged out of my head at her obvious sarcasm and the implication of her words.

“Wow!”

…
Glossary:
Ade: A prefix in Yoruba names that suggests you're from a royal family.