African beauty

Chapter 2: Recollection and Confrontation

I woke up at 4:30am this morning. Am I really that excited to start a school filled with privileged, stuck up teenagers? Maybe. Ever since we arrived in London in August, two factors have greatly increased; my boredom and my hunger. I really needed to get out of the house and fast, before I turned into one of those Obese Nigerian mothers that pound the tastiest pounded yam. I got up, looked in the mirror, and brushed my teeth while telling myself I was beautiful about 20 times. Incase you're wondering why the hell I do that, it's just a daily reminder, and I've pretty much gotten used to it, because my mother made me do it from the age of....well....since I was able to properly form sentences, as a form of "therapy". Yes I know it's stupid, but every morning I can never stop myself from doing it, and believe it or not, I have this superstition that my day will just go horribly wrong if I don't, and it doesn't hurt to do it, right? 

Anyway, I got ready really fast, so fast that I could squeeze in breakfast for me and my dad, which was seldom possible. I finished breakfast and rushed into my mothers car so she could drive me, because if I was a minute late she would literally hop out of the car and go back to sleep, and I would have to walk, because I cannot stay at home and be "useless". It did not take up to 10 minutes to arrive to the hell hole that was Hailshaw college, east London. I got dropped off and waved my mother good bye. This was it. No tour guide, no friends, and not a single black girl in sight. I swallowed the last bit of saliva that had not gone out in sweat, and walked into school. It was an immediate feeling of difference. The college was predominantly white, so to all of them a black woman looked like a mirage; something that didn't exist. I was walking into my new form class when something peculiar was caught by my left eye (which is a lazy eye, Incase you were wondering) . It was a white male, about 6 feet tall, and moderately built, coming from the principals office with a neutral face, even though he had just been shouted at, giving me the impression that he was a usual customer there. But he was gorgeous. It was almost like he was the Antichrist, if the anti christ bred with the most beautiful white man in the world and rare sapphire. His beauty almost clouded the fact that he was walking right towards me, and he bumped into my shoulder. "Hey watch where you're going, I'm not the one to mess with". Yeah. Definitely the most beautiful form of the antichrist I've ever met. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention" I said, as he walked away, not being able to care less if I was still talking or not. Technically, he needs to watch where he's going, because he bumped into me, or was he admiring my beauty? I highly doubt it. Though it's not impossible.

All the classes were a blur after that, and all I could think about was that gorgeous male, who was rather rough around the edges, but could be fixed. The only thing I remember is a girl calling me "fam" after which I proceeded to ask her why she was calling me family, as she barely knew me, and we were far from family, obviously. Her and her friends proceeded to laugh and call me a "foreign" which I am still trying to figure out if I should take offense to that or not, because regardless, I am foreign, and they're right. I stood outside the building waiting in the parking lot for my mother, when I saw the beautiful male I saw earlier approach me. "Sorry about earlier, I was really gutted that I had to go to the principal for the eighth time this year". His eyes were ocean blue, and it was surely an ocean I could definitely learn to swim in. "My name is Alex, by the way. What's yours?" He asked, and his British accent was so melodious that it almost sounded like a song. I stammered uncontrollably, "E-e-Erica. Erica Olufemi. I just moved here from Lagos." "Welcome to Hailshaw, were all the snobs are put into one place so we can all suffer together!". That was far from funny, but I forced out an ugly, uncontrollable laughter, one of embarrassment more so. "Do you have any close friends here?" I asked. "No, because everyone sees me as a bad influence, even when they all do the same things, just more undercover and closed up. I do have girls all over me though. Could that be considered friendship?". Of course, he looked like a supermodel god. He was absolutely gorgeous, but his humor was getting annoying, and I was getting bored. "Can I have your number, Erica Olufemi?", "Sure" I said, trying not to act like I had a fire cracker inside me. I gave him my number and he gave me his. I waved him goodbye as I saw my mothers car come immediately. I hopped in. "Did you make any friends, omo mi?"and I told her I did not talk to anybody yet, because if my mother found out that my first friend was an oyinbo male supermodel who was not new to the principals office, It was sure that I would getting a verbal beating, especially from my mother, who was very protective of me. Not a bad first day, I guess.