K A I R A

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As I was about taking my eyes off of the new guy, his met mine and a huge of lump of saliva gathered in my throat. Staring at people was weird to me especially when he or she stared back. I didn't know why but for some reason, I maintained eye contact with him, wondering what he would do next. His lips curved into a smile and his eyes had this teasing gleam in them. Unfortunately for me, he refused to break eye contact. So I did what I was meant to have done all along.

I broke the trance.

"I saw that, Kaira." Daniel pointed out with a smirk and I blinked. Once. Twice. Three good times. "I see you're already making a good impression."

I rolled my eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Before Daniel could say anything else-thankfully-Amara said, "Omo! This guy is fine o."

"Yeah, like we can't see that." I noticed the envy in Daniel's voice.

"Don't worry, you'll always remain our fine boy." I teased, tapping his shoulder while he only hissed and returned his attention to our teachers at the front of the class.

"Can I please have a word with you?" Mr Odebode asked Miss Martha, walking further into the classroom while the new guy stood by the door post, black bag strapped to his broad shoulders.

Miss Martha took off her glasses entirely. "Sure. Anything the problem, sir?"

Hearing a teacher call a fellow teacher respectfully kind of puts me off. There's a considerable age gap between her and Mr Odebode though. So, it didn't sound too absurd.

"Not at all. I just need to have a quick word with you."

Beads of sweat rolled down Mr Odebode's forehead even with how well ventilated our class was. His blue shirt clung to some part of his torso and he displayed a sense of hurry. He turned to face the class, bowing his head a bit. "Please excuse us."

I watched our Physics teacher drop her glasses and teaching materials on the table before exiting with our Maths teacher and of course, Mr Smith as Mr Odebode had called him. As soon as both teachers left, it didn't take long for everyone to begin with the noise making, an asset students have.

"Do you think that guy's going to be our classmate?" Amara nudged me with her elbow, already stooped beside me. Ever the curious one, she is.

"Dumbo, isn't it obvious?"

"It doesn't call for insults, Kaira. Unless you want my Igbo insults to rain down on you?" Amara perked an eyebrow. "Do you want that?"

"Oh, please I'm scared. Like I'm not Igbo too."

"Doesn't mean you understand your language." She swayed her index finger before my eyes.

"I understand Igbo, Amarachukwu."

"Oh, sorry." She faked a cough. "You can't speak Igbo."

I made a mild attempt to push her away but she held my table.

"Go away, you pest."

Shameful, I know. Growing up in a city where the main languages being spoken are English, Yoruba, and Pidgin, I was left without any other option but to learn all three. My Yoruba still needs a lot of work though. Lagos and my parents sure didn't help me in knowing how to speak my mother tongue.

The little Igbo I knew was grounded into me whenever I visited my grandparents in the south eastern part of Nigeria in the village.

Amara suddenly found the floor better to look at as she lowered her head. "Forgive me. I didn't mean for it to hurt you."