At the End of August

Five

NOISES SPRANG FROM EVERY corner of the dull painted Buka I stepped into. Girls and boys chatted endlessly in groups of two and more, walked around with trays of food they had just ordered or hovered over the four different sellers show glass frames trying to decide what their purchase would be. The rest sat on the tables, enthusiastically talking while eating, defying the table manners song this school made us sing when I was younger. There were an approximate of fifty tables covered in coca cola wraps in the hall, and each of them housed five chairs maximum. And Christy told me that this was just one of the four Buka halls, only two existed when I was here last.

Thanks to Sopuluchi, I was able to settle into the last three classes having somebody by my side. The chubby girl was friendly and had an aura the rest of the students seemed to be drawn to. She was charming and funny, two things I knew I was not. I very well wished that I could be funny at least because people tended to remember funny memories easily. Plus, that would be a great way to get Sopuluchi. He would laugh so hard his heart would never want to let go of me.

"Do you see this entire hall," Christy threw her hand on my shoulder and gestured with the other towards the crowd of students. I wore confusion as I waited for my new friend to complete her statement, there was no way to predict the direction of this...conversation?

"This hall, these people. They belong to me." What?

"Belong to you?" She tsked at my question and took her hand off my shoulder when someone wanted to go out through the entrance we unconsciously blocked.

"Yes," she said. "All the people here are my citizens and this is my kingdom."

"The Buka is your kingdom?" I tilted my head, unsure if I got her context correctly. However, to show that my slow understanding was getting to her, she breathed in and shook her head.

"Come, let's get something and I will explain." I followed behind her as she led me to the second seller. There was a boy in front, pointing at every piece of food, asking the price over and over again. While we waited Christy decided to explain what she meant. "Have you read One of Us Is Lying?"

Read? I was the last person to ask that question. I rather watched than read. I could only manage to read small poetry books, small simple poetry because sometimes I liked to write meaningless poetry, other than that I did not read. Which was why I did not have the best grade in literature. I tried, but I was an average literature student.

"Err," I looked everywhere but at her, I did not want to see the reaction on her face that her fellow art student didn't read.

"Oh. You don't read novels. I have to stop finding friends who don't read because then I don't get to fangirl about certain things with them. It's like I am cursed to squeal alone," she groaned briefly, looking to the roof with both palms raised towards it and I had to look at it also to check what exactly Christy saw. However, her next words—dramatic and unnecessary—explained everything. "Dear Lord, how do you expect me to write the best scripts that would become the best movies if you don't give me friends that would at least read through my script for me?"

I placed a hand over my mouth, amused at Christys action, but embarrassed when I realized others had joined behind us forming a line. Even the sellers had to pause momentarily to look over and then some shook their heads, wearing the same look as I had on.

"Are you always the drama?"

Christy smirked at me, "In the words of Conan Gray, 'why be logical about something when you can be dramatic'?" She proceeded to keep to her words and tapped the still confused boy in front of her. "Hey, get something or get out." Perhaps those were the words the boy needed to hear because he wasted no time in deciding the food he would get. After he left, we went next. It was my turn to scan the foods and ask for prices, but Christy decided to help me 'get the best delicacy the school restaurant could offer', which was moimoi wrapped in leaf with a side dish of roasted plantain and an accompanying ofada stew.