|Imran Adebayo Ibrahim|
Survival of the dopest; that's what it's all about in Midtown High School. I wasn't dope, yet I survived History class — I learned a lot and I was right, Martin Luther King was the topic of the day. As I walked to the school's cafeteria to eat my lunch, I could see kids in rappers outfits; they looked cool and dope, doper than me. Since I was just wearing my mediocre hoodie and my black jeans.
Another thing I observed was the fact that the cooler your outfit, the higher your chances of sitting with the school's hot guys. Zayd was also sitting with the cool kids, they were snickering and even playing disgusting pranks on each other.
I sat quietly and sip my apple juice, trying to figure out my class schedule before my next class.
"Can I sit with you?" Someone asked me, I turned to look at that person and it was the girl I sat with during history class; Ella.
"Yeah." I said, trying not to choke on my juice.
Ella sat with me and she quietly ate her breakfast. The atmosphere between us was quiet like she was waiting for me to start a conversation with her. If she was then she'll just leave, 'cause I sucked in conversation not to talk of starting one.
She cleared her throat awkwardly, "so anything interesting about you?" She asked.
I raised my head and my eyes met hers, there was nothing interesting about me, so I kept shut and just averted my gaze before it got weird. "Huh?" I muttered.
"What's interesting in Nigeria?" She asked again.
"The—" I finally wanted to answer Ella, but someone cut me short from behind.
"The scam." That scumbag said, I seethed from my seat and turned to look at the idiot. From his appearance he looked a lot like a cool kid who belongs at the hot guys table. Yet again, his face looked very familiar, like I'd seen him before. "The scam's the most interesting thing in Nigeria, shawty." He added again, facing Ella.
At Last I remembered who he was. It's Chris Okafor — he was the son of a wealthy business man in Nigeria, we went to the same primary school together back in Nigeria before his dad had to relocate them here for business purposes. His father was a shareholder in the Atlantan Coca-Cola company.
"Christopher?" I called, recalling his face vividly. He had changed a lot, his skin was lighter than when he was in Nigeria.
Chris gave me a snare, "it's Chris, fool." He insulted, verifying what people says: old habits die hard.
You see me and Christopher who goes by Chris now had a bad history together. We both were vying for first place in school, and that led to him bullying me just because I was a smaller lad than he was. Right from age twelve he was three-times bigger than me and he even started getting homage from puberty — from the moustache at age fourteen to the genitalia hairs at fifteen. And yes, he bragged about it to everyone in class. In summary, Chris was my bully in Nigeria and I wish he wasn't one here again.
"Okay Chris, how've you been?" I said, gathering all the words I had in store for the whole week and saying them at once. My aim was to rekindle our not-so-toxic yet toxic relationship we had at primary school. We had this repartee; I'll take first place and he'll take second place — I'll take second place and he'll take first place — then he wasn't as scary as this. "How's your dad?" I pushed my luck even harder.
Unexpectedly, Chris' hand was around my shoulder, "Ella." He sucked on his teeth. "You don't need to talk to this loser for him to do our assignments, he'll do them for sure — he is my boi back in Nigeria."
I couldn't believe my ears, Ella, whom I thought wanted to be my friend was just taking advantage of my loneliness. And Christopher wasn't my boss — he might have sent me errands on different occasions, but still I did it out of fear.
"Like for real Chris, he's just boring."
I stood up to leave before those two would embarrass my whole existence. Maybe I should have eaten in the library, where I could judge incapable author's while eating my sandwich. What really amazed me was the fact that Chris had changed since he got here. He was even bullying tiny kids to do his work.
What a dirty snake he was.
Chris held my hand from behind, yanking me closer to his stupid face. "Even though you're just starting school today, I see you're ahead of all of us. You're gonna do Mr. Perry's homework for us, we good?" He said. I don't want to brag but I actually knew the topic more than they did.
"M'kay." I said in uncertainty, all I wanted to do was get lost. Chris let me go after I had accepted his offer. I was about to bolt out of their sight before I was stopped again but this time it was Ella who stopped me.
"New kid, I'm actually having a rager in my house, you might wanna come or whateves'."
Did she just invited me to a rager? I was over the moon that I forgot that partying was prohibited in Islam. I've been a very great Muslim from my birth; I didn't cry a lot as a babe, growing up I never had a tantrum, I was obedient to my parents and also I have never had a girlfriend before. My point was: God will overlook just this small rager. It's not like I was going to get drunk or at worst lose my virginity — I'll just prove I'm cool to my fellow classmates.
"Ohh... Ella, he won't make it. His religion prohibits fun." Chris' stupid voice pulled me out of my deep thoughts.
"No cap?" Ella's face was laced with surprise.
Islam doesn't prohibit fun. We Muslim just love to have Halal fun. Instantly, I remembered Zayd's advice, to be less religious — as disrespectful as it was, it was also kind of helpful. "I'll be there." I answered with strong assurance.
"'Kay, here's the address." Ella brought out a white sheet of paper where she'd already written the address, like she'd planned everything beforehand. "And it will be nice if you invite Zayd, I heard y'all are step brothers."
Yeah right. The reason I was invited was because of my hot brother. I nodded my head before leaving for good this time.
The library wasn't hard to locate, I easily found it within minutes of turns and curves. Entering the library I noticed a few numbers of students valued the great educational instrument a library was. Five students were in the library, most of them weren't even there to read, they were eating burgers and weird soups among rows of books. Who am I to blame them, I was a victim of that circumstance too.
I did a thorough searching and review before picking who I was going to seat with. All the kids I saw were dorks and nerds — I was a nerd, but I wasn't as nerdy as they were. One of them was even reading the dictionary and was giggling. I mean who giggles while reading words and their meaning? I would if the word was coitus-related. Searching again, I saw the kid that was worthy of my presence, he was mindfully eating his meal and at the same time reading a book. Perfect, that's exactly what I was planning to do in the library too.
"Hey." I called, waving my hand with a smile before sitting next to him and he replied with a bright smile also. "What are you reading." I tried my best to start up a conversation even though I started sweating abnormally.
He turned the book's cover for me to see — exactly what I'd do if a stranger started talking out of the blue. "Oh. I think we take the same history class together." I jumped into conclusion after seeing the book he was reading, It was a book titled King: A life. A book by Jonathan Eig, talking about Martin Luther King's biography. He probably was reading it for the class assignment.
"Yeah." He replied with a phrase and that's when it occurred to me that he is an introvert just like me. You see, whenever two introverts meet, one turns into an extrovert instantly and I think that extrovert was me.
"Can you please show me around school when you're done, but you don't have to if you don't want to, it's just that I'm really confused and it was nice meeting you." I ranted and instantly I knew I was too much and was a perfect fuck-up. I stood up to walk away before I could embarrass myself any further but I was stopped by his voice.
"I'm Francis and I would love to show you around school." He absentmindedly asked me to be his friend. I was so happy that I took my seat again.
"Hi... I'm Nigerian to meet you." God, why do I always say that.
He chuckled softly, "welcome to Atlanta." I was dumbfounded by the reply I got. I was expecting him to say: 'I am Atlantan to meet you' but I guess introverted nerds understand each other.
"I'm Imran, Zayd's step brother." As corny as that sounded, I felt good using Zayd's for me to look cool. He kind of owes me so that's the least he could do.
"Okay." Francis muttered, eyes still glued to the book he was reading.
The ambivert spirit I never knew was in me was pushing me to be more engaging. We might end up as friends. "Ella's having a rager tonight, do you want to come?"
"I dunno, I wasn't invited." Francis said, whispering this time. I totally forgot we were supposed to be quiet in a library.
"Well, I'll be lonely there. Can you come with?"
"A'ight, but I hope no one's gonna be joanin' me there?" He answered, facing me this time.
"I'll answer you as soon as I Google the meaning of joanin'." I replied awkwardly.
"You're funny. Imran isn't it?" I nodded at his question. "Welcome to midtown high, I'll see you in class." With these said, he packed his backpack and walked out of the library.
Here goes my Atlantan best friend. I thought as I still pondered on the meaning of the new slang I just heard.
Author's Note
Hello guys. Thanks for sticking with me this far. I kinda felt like this chapter doesn't have that wow I intend for it. But nevertheless a writer's gotta update. Seems like our lonely blaq Boi isn't as lonely as we thought. Do vote and comment down your thoughts. Love y'all.
Glossary
1. No cap: is an Atlantan slang that means 'For Real'.
2. Halal: In Islam there are two categories, halal and haram, halal means non-prohibited while Haram means prohibited.
3. Joanin': is an Atlantan slang that means roasting, bullying and pranking.