***
On a normal day, our walk to the canteen would take no more than five minutes. But no thanks to my ill health, the walk lasted twice as long. Standing at the end of the lunch line, an urge to look around brought Raheem into my line of sight. At the far end of the hall, he sat, eating away at a snail's pace as though he had all day.
A seductive mix of aromas wafted around the canteen, flirting with my nostrils. My stomach rumbled, reminding me of my duty to fill it. I'd had bread and tea for breakfast, but my ill health had emptied my stomach almost immediately.
During our walk here, I had tossed an avomine tablet into my mouth. Now, here I stood, confident that whatever I ate would remain in my breadbasket. Bless you, fairy godmother.
Done serving herself, a girl carried her food towards Raheem's seat. Mary. I recognized her from science class. Although we never spoke, I could swear she had a fine personality and wouldn't deserve Raheem's untamed character. Hadn't she heard about him? I'd thought everyone would by now, considering how fast news spread.
Everyone-at least those who knew his arrogance-watched to see his reaction. I did too. I wished I could reach out and warn Mary. Raheem's lips moved as he lifted his eyes to acknowledge her presence. I wished I could hear what he said.
"Next!" The lunch girl's voice returned my focus to the lunch line. I moved forward and grabbed my utensils. Fried rice looked good. Thanks to the deteriorating Nigerian economy, the canteen had only provided fried rice once in two weeks.
Towards the end of last term, our disgruntled sighs had reached the director's ears, prompting him into action. He had organized a meeting with parents, wards and staff, and they discussed ways to improve the school lunch. With a seven percent increase in our lunch allowance-and by extension our school fees-rice meals were prepared in abundance, and on a daily basis.
So far, every parent seemed fine with the increment in fees, no doubt seeing it as ineluctable, something every school had to do to cope with the recession. Without this ineluctable increment in fees, schools would be at huge losses. Especially schools like ours that included food allowance, textbook allowance and other expenditure in the school fees.
Even with the seven percent increment, the fees remained affordable, at least compared to other schools paying over five million Naira tuition fee per annum, with other additional fees like uniforms, books, feeding and the rest of them. And for this reason, Western High had more patronage than many of its contemporaries that saw extravagant fees as the order of the day. At one point six million per annum for day students and two point five million for boarding students, our fees covered tuition fee and every other fee. To top it all, we provided all the facilities the other schools provided. Thus, nature took its course, by way of parents flocking in with their children.
Our director had lived in Chicago, USA all his life. On his return, he'd set up this school, incorporating Western standards into the school system, hence the name Western High. With it he promised every child an opportunity to enjoy the American educational system from the comfort of our country. This won the hearts of many exclusively rich parents who could readily splash millions on their children. While most of them would love sending their children abroad to study, they didn't want to have them ridiculously far away from home just yet. To bridge this gap, Mark Etto's Western High came in.
I dished a generous quantity of rice onto my disposable lunch tray and scooped two spoonfuls of salad beside it. Grabbing an apple and a cup of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, I stepped aside to create room for the next person.
Joining me, Amarachi gestured to a vacant table. She'd settled for pizza, more pizza, more pizza and little bit of something else.
"Next!" the lunch girl called out. Feet shuffled behind us as students stepped in toward her.
"Can I join you guys?" Flora asked, a wavering smile on her face.
Amarachi and I smiled back. "Of course."
Once settled in our chairs, we dug into our food. Every now and then, Flora and Amarachi would look over to Raheem and Mary. So far, nothing bad had happened. Engrossed in a conversation, they seemed to be getting along just fine, which struck me as weird. I'd thought Mr. Arrogant saw himself as too important to mingle with lowlife Blacks. Why then did he seem so comfortable with Mary?
"Think she's his girlfriend?" Amarachi asked.
Flora slurped her coke. She obviously didn't want to start a conversation about him.
Amarachi waited till she set down her coke. "What do you think of him?"
"He's human." Flora grabbed her coke again, seeking escape. Her shyness always found a way to amuse me, but letting my amusement show would only make her uneasy. I tried not to look at her. I doubted she would properly bite down on her food before swallowing if she found me staring.
"And?" Amarachi pressed on, enjoying Flora's uneasiness. "You don't like him either, do you?"
"Amarachi, stop," I said. "This is her first time having lunch with us and you're already scaring her off. He's cute, but that doesn't erase the fact that he's the sickest bastard on planet earth. Sick with a capital letter 's' and three letter 'k'!"
Raheem looked up at me as though he had heard every word. Had he?
"She could be his girlfriend," Flora said. Shrugging, she added, "I saw them yesterday."
"Doing what?" Amarachi asked, eyes widening.
My eyes didn't stray from Raheem. I would not be the first one to back out of the stare battle. Gawking at me with cold eyes, he spoke to Mary and she turned around.
"Look at him," I told my crew. They complied at once, although Flora backed out almost immediately. Amarachi and I continued to stare at them.
"Think they're talking about us?" Amarachi asked, chewing on her food.
"Damn them if they are," I said.
Raheem spoke. Mary responded. Raheem shook his head as he spoke again. They seemed to be talking about us.
"Well, damn them," Amarachi said.
Mary's blank face brightened with excitement. A kind of 'I'm dating the hottest, most popular guy in school' excitement. Had it been anyone but Mary, I would believe it to be the motive behind her excitement. She waved at us. We waved back and returned our attention to our table.
"They sure are talking about us," I said, gritting my teeth.
My eyes found Raheem again. I watched him and Mary vacate their seats. Once they caught me staring, Raheem held her hand, flaunting her. A smile lit up Mary's face. Having him to herself while he made everyone else feel like shit sure placed her on cloud nine. Raheem smiled too. That gesture, simple as it looked, left me breathless. His conflicting personalities mesmerized me. While he had the face of an angel, he had a heart black as coal. I watched them exit the cafeteria.
"Don't let him get under your skin," Amarachi said.
"I hate him!" I dabbed my serviette on my lips and tossed it onto the plate Amarachi had helped me to empty. Picking up my apple, I bolted to my feet. "I better go now."
"We're coming along," Amarachi said. She and Flora stood up simultaneously.
"Where are we going?" Flora asked.
"Sick bay," Amarachi said.
Flora's gaze darted between Amarachi and I. "Who is sick?"
The lost look on her face forced laughter to bubble within me. And while I fought to contain mine, Amarachi burst out laughing. "Vicky isn't well."
"Is it his perfume?" Flora asked innocently.
I nodded. "To an extent. How did you know?"
"Hunch."
Now, Amarachi played the part of the clueless one. "What's this about a perfume?"
"Raheem's perfume," I said. "I'm allergic to its ingredients."
"Fragrance sensitivity," Flora said.
Standing at akimbo, Amarachi shook her head, disbelieving. "Wow. We've been bestfriends for years and I didn't know you've got allergies."
"Such is life," I said. We headed out of the cafeteria.
"You should tell Madam Charity," Flora said.
Amarachi d
raped an arm over my shoulder. "She's right. You know, this might just be a legitimate way to kick Rah's pompous ass out of our seat."
Taking a pack of orbit gum from her pocket, Flora popped one into her mouth. She passed it to Amarachi who did justice to it and passed it on to me. We remained silent for the rest of our walk.