2 Okan

My fingers drummed away on the desk as I watched my teacher hand back our graded papers. The ticks of the clock coincided with the pounding of my head. I was in a terrible mood already with a god-awful headache to boot when she tossed the paper onto my desk after doing the gross finger licking thing teachers do when they pass out papers. There is no way in hell that much saliva needs to be involved to separate one paper from another. I know it's been a couple years since the pandemic but the least people could do is maintain some semblance of hygiene so we avoid another one. I brushed away my thoughts and glanced at my paper only to do a double take when I saw the number scribbled on the top. Maybe her handwriting was bad? Maybe I was misreading it? I hate to be dramatic, but that couldn't be my grade. I had wasted my time writing that paper when I could've been doing literally anything else, and it was a damn good paper too. I'm pretty sure I had a 98% in that class around then too, so I didn't need to be mad about my grade, the principal of it all had me pissed.

"Ei Nani wetin don happen to your face?" (Wow what happened to your face). My best friend asked in pidgin (a west african form of english), and I sighed, making a conscious effort to look less irritated.

"Asante you no go vex me today oooo."- (You won't irritate me today). I snapped. "My face is fine. I think all the dick don ruin your brain circulation." I stated, checking my nails, my face completely blank as usual.

"What did you get on the essay then?" she cackled, her dark eyes narrowing with amusement. She knew exactly what the problem was of course.

" ....seventy-nine." I snapped

"Abeg louder my ears dey tire" (Please say it louder, my ears are tired)

"Seventy.Nine. "

"Jesus! I told you she would be pressed about that Andrew Jackson shit."

"Bitch the fuck was I supposed to do? Kiss Andrew Jackson's ass knowing fully well who he was? It's 2028, this shouldn't even be disputed."

"I know, but there have to be means to an end. I keep telling you some fights are not worth it. You are going to get to a point in your life someday where you'll realize you have no choice but to take action and you have the power to do it. Save your energy for then. Now is not the time. Just go butter her up a lil and get your grade."

At the end of class I forced myself to take Asante's advice and argued my way into a ninety four. I made up some bullshit about my essay showcasing the point of view of a displaced native american to showcase all aspects of the issue. As if. Idiocy is one hell of a drug. Out here looking like Ms.booboothefool. It was the end of the day and I could finally make my way home to relax in peace. Track practice was cancelled and my martial arts championship match was last weekend so I was on break. I met with Asante at the doors and we began the "trek"as she put it (in actuality it was a five minute walk) home.

"UGGGHHH" she whined as the sun began beating down on us.

"Oh my god really bruh? You literally do this every day. Don't you get tired?"

"I keep telling you, one of these days this walk will just kill me"

"I wish." I snorted and Asante hunched over, placing her hands on her knees, her long twists draping over her face, and the almost pitch colored skin on her face squeezed as if she licked a lemon. Suddenly she dropped to the floor and I stopped laughing.

"What's wrong? Should I call 911? Are you okay? Oh my fucking god this is just like the girl in the nollywood movie I watched. I thought that shit was superstition.." I mumbled. I was frantic as I could be, still standing upright because I was afraid to touch her, yet clearly distraught until I heard her giggle. We probably weren't best friends by the standard definition. I cared about her more than the majority of people, it just took a lot for me to truly be warm with anyone, so it made showing how I felt very difficult. We never really even touched each other besides shoves and playful slaps. Looking back, I don't understand why a person as warm and 'popular' as Asante was bothered to be friends with me, but I'm glad she did.

"I swear next time I'll kill you. "

"I'm sorry nollywood took me out, I couldn't! And you was the same one over here acting as if you could survive without me!" She chortled again.

"I literally don't like you but okay" I retorted and kept walking without helping her up. As she struggled to lift her fatass off the hot pavement, the hairs on my neck jumped.

I always felt as if I was being watched on this route home, but my parents wouldn't let me drive anywhere after the incident, even though they could afford to get me three cars.

Anyways I told Asante about the feeling and she caught up to me. We turned around back to back in a full circle with our thumbs ready to dial 911, and our other hands intertwined but we saw no one. I knew I wasn't going crazy. I felt the hairs on my neck stand up and my blood boil. Yet, I felt if someone was out to hurt me, they'd have their work cut out for them. Eventually A got home and I ran the rest of the way to my house.

"Mama, I'm home!"

"Why are you yelling in my house like you pay rent? How are our grades?"

"Good afternoon mother, my grades are fine, Ms.boo- I mean Burton gave me an 84, but she brought it up to an A." I wasn't gonna tell her it started as a 79...do you know how crazy this woman is?

"Keep it that way. I'm making jollof so go finish your homework and I'll call you when it's finished. If I hear about another "almost B", that phone you're always pressing pressing will vanish."

Then you won't hear about it.

In my head I made it sound as if I had a choice, but I did not. I knew I would tell her regardless, because I adored her. Everything I did was for her and my father. The house was flowing with the smells of stew, chicken and spices as is customary for a day when ma has no surgeries scheduled. I felt safe with her here. This feeling of safety came rarely, but when it did arrive, I finally felt at peace for once. Little did I know that this would be the last time I felt safety for a very long while. The road ahead was one filled with danger. My kidnapping would be just the beginning.