(Please note: This
story is +18, based on it romance kind of temperature, as you may be forced
to do what you don’t want to…)
My Last Days In High School | Episode 1
It was early
in the morning and still dark when Michael White woke up to someone shaking him
roughly. He groaned and mumbled to himself, half asleep.
‘Michael’ He
jerked fully awake at the sound of that familiar voice. It was his brother.
‘Chris!’ Michael said in surprise.
‘Yes, it’s
me.’ And his brother smiled in a way that showed only his upper teeth.
‘Man! What…?’ Michael began. They looked at
each other, delighted.
‘No greeting,
little bro? Chris smiled again.
‘Sorry, does anyone know you’re here? Does
daddy…?’ Michael did not complete the sentence; instead he embraced his brother
tightly. ‘I’ve missed you!’
Chris was thinner. Michael could feel it.
‘Mum knows I’m here,’ Chris said. He too
did not mention their father. Just then, the alarm clock sounded. It was time
for Michael to get up and he released his brother.
‘Go on, get ready for school, ‘ Chris said,
stretching on the bed. ‘At least you seem happy to see me. ‘ He looked round
the room at the poster of the Manchester United football team on the wall above
Michael’s bed. A typical boy’s room. Another worn-out poster of Tupac Shakur
was pasted on the opposite wall.
‘I didn’t remove it even though it’s an
eyesore, ‘ Michael said, grinning. ‘Everything is just as you left it.’
Chris squeezed Michael’s arm lightly. He
picked up something from the bedside table beside Michael’s music CDs,
chemistry and mathematics textbooks. ‘Man, this is some watch. Must have cost a
mountain. You always get all the nicest things, why….?’
‘Chris, don’t touch my watch.’
‘What’s your problem? Can’t I look at a
watch?’
‘I’m sorry bro,’ Michael muttered. ‘I’m
glad to see you back ---- really ---- but, you know…’
‘My cute, spoilt little brother….You grow
taller every time I see you.’ Chris got up walked towards the door. ‘Don’t
worry about the old bear. Better get ready for school. Er----I took some cash
from your drawer, hope you don’t mind.’
Sighing, Michael plodded to the bathroom.
Trust his brother to always collect things, but he was happy he was back. It’s
was a new day and the beginning of his final year at school. Like his brother,
he was as tall and long-limbed as an athlete, though, unlike his brother, he
had dimples when he smiled. He was sixteen years old and he was already
sprouting a beard. He flexed his right arm that he had developed muscles. Good.
He whistled as he took his shower,
refusing to think about the morning’s surprise. The reason why was a long
story; too long to think on a brand new day.
*
As Michael ate his breakfast of moin-moin and brown pap, Chris sat on
the sofa watching early morning cartoons on television. Their mother was in the
kitchen with Risikat their house-help.
It was like any other morning – peaceful,
almost as if Chris had never left. Then Mr. White came out of his bedroom,
yawning. He was a tall and well-built man with a head shaved bald. He wore a
loose caftan over his bulging tummy.
‘Kemi….’ he began and then stopped short
and rubbed his eye’s and rubbed them again just to make sure.
‘Good morning, Papa,’ Chris said and, as an afterthought, prostrate himself. He
sounded as if he was enjoying himself.
‘What are you doing here?’ his father
said in a strangled voice.
Mrs Peter Came running out of the
kitchen. ‘Good morning, dear. Just relax and let me explain….’
Michael knew his father wouldn’t listen.
‘What is this good-for-nothing doing in
my house?’ his father roared. Didn’t I tell you never to set your foot in here
again? Get out before I call the police!’
‘Kola!’ Mrs Peter shouted ---- if
her high thin voice could be called a shout. ‘It’s too early in the morning for
this. And he is your son! You cannot treat him like this! You must go on like
this!’ She knelt down.
‘It’s you!’ Mr Peter turned on her. ‘You
spoiled the boy! He has brought shame and disgrace on this family and you still
beg for him. All your children are bad!’
Michael jumped down from the dining table
and knelt down too, besides his mother and brother. ‘Papa, forgive him.’
Mr Peter stood still, his chest heaving,
and said very quietly, ‘You are not welcome here,’ and turned back to his room.
Mrs Peter collapsed onto s chair, but when Chris stood up, he was grinning
widely.
‘You can laugh,’ his mother said. ‘It’s
not funny. You saw how he reacted. We shall have to see Uncle Kazeem and maybe
Uncle Shola. They will talk to him.’
‘He’s not a serious man,’ Chris said,
grinning.
‘Ah, Chris!’ his mother protested. ‘He’s
your father!’
Michael picked up his schoolbag and slung
it over his shoulder.
‘You’ve not finished eating,’ his mother
said anxiously.
‘I’m not hungry. Bro, stay cool.’ He was
annoyed as he turned for the door, but he didn’t know exactly why.
Papa and his temper, Michael thought.
Outside the gate, he stood for a moment and listened to the distant sounds of
the buses and shouts of the bus conductors on the main road. A cock crowed in
the distance. Someone called his name. Is was his next-door neighbor and
schoolmate, Ansa Izaegbegbe, running towards him. A short, thin boy who hardly
reached Michael’s shoulders.
‘Heard you arrived back from your trip
yesterday,’ Ansa said, slightly out of breath. ‘Was waiting for you,’
‘Hey Ansaboy! Sorry. My mind was
somewhere else.’ Michael smiled delightedly and threw Ansa a friendly punch.
Ansa snorted noisily. ‘Well, it’s nice
to have you back.’
To be
continued….
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