Chapter 22: Hard Questions and Painful Answers

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16th of November 2023🥀

“—I wish we could switch brains just for today and tomorrow.” Dominique, says over the phone.

I shine my school shoes while talking to him, getting ready for school.  “It's just Mathematics Dominique —it’s easy. It's practical.”

“Ugh! Easy for you to say  Mr Einstein. Maths is like the villain in my story.”

I chuckle.

“I'm serious. It stole my time, happiness peace, girlfriend —“

“—How did Math steal your girlfriend?”

“You remember Cassandra?”

“Yeah we talked about her yesterday.

“Don't you remember in 9th grade she had that argument with me about how she didn't find it attractive that I couldn't find x. She said our relationship was doomed because that meant I wouldn't be able to get her back if she broke up with me.”

Laughter bubbles out of the both of us.

“She was…” Dominique  and I struggle to find worlds.

“She was insane.”

“—insanely beautiful!” Dominique counters my statement at the exact same time.

We laugh.

“Wait but like how did you guys break up again.”

“I forgot but it was probably something dumb. Highschool relationships are dumb, intense and overly dramatic.”

“But Olivia and I are an exception, right?”

“Olivia’s just a kind girl who decided to give her stalker a chance because she was scared to say no.”

“Wow!” I laugh through my words.”You're never gonna let that go, are you?”

“I'll be telling your great grandkids about this man. It'll start something like this—Kids, in this life there are two types of boys. Boy one: who likes a girl, befriends her , falls in love and all that jazz. Boy two : who likes a girl,becomes her stalker for about a whole year ,threatens her with falling in love and somehow still gets the girl.”

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Breakfast is  different this Morning.
Different being that we are  actually having breakfast and not supper for breakfast.

The Bran flakes are served with cold milk on mine and Mkhulu's bowl. While my mother warmed up her milk.

My eyes shift from my bowl, to the ceiling and back to the bowl. It's a painful silence with only the sounds of our chewing.

Mkhulu’s face is twisted with annoyance because he hates mouth sounds so much but the silence is better.

The silence is safer.

The silence leaves the knife that's pierced in the heart—alone.

It doesn't push or twist the knife the way words would do. It leaves the bleeding heart alone.

The silence is all this family can have now.

I see it in the way my mother's eyes have resigned that she's given up.

She's given up on having small talk.

She's given up on fighting and talking.

She's given up on me…

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