This is Me.

•11•

November

“Omasan!” I called out, breaking into a little jog trying to keep up with his long ass strides.

My skirt hitched up, I paused, rearranging it and continued chasing a boy who I'd met two days prior.

Fuck the patriarchy?

I finally got close enough to him to reach out, and almost as if he sensed it he abruptly stopped.

I collided with his hard back and instinctively took a few steps backward.

We were now in a secluded area of the school, far from the noise that usually came with lunch time at Onyx. 

The breeze blew all around us– a gentle howl.

His jaw ticked as he stood, still facing the opposite direction. Time seemed to come to a halt as he slowly turned around.

His biceps flexed through his long sleeves as he thrust his hands deeper into his pocket. Finally he turned to face me, the er…damage finally visible to my curious eyes.

I held my breath in surprise, seeing it the second time was worse.

His beautiful dark skin was now swollen and bruised in weird places, dented and scarred. His lower lip was busted and the right end was swollen and throbbing.

His pointy nose was now crooked and looked as if it was barely hanging on to his face. The skin around it was a tad bit swollen and bandaged across.

His forehead had a tiny gash– which ran from his right temple and disappeared into his hair which he had now undreaded and packed into a tight bun. A tight bun which made the damage to his face, all the more pronounced.

His left eyebrow was split and a tiny scar ran from the corner of his left eye to his temple.

Underneath his right eye was a big ugly bruise that…throbbed?

I was broken out of my um…assessment by his calloused hands grabbing my outstretched ones.

Then, it dawned on me that I had unconsciously reached out toward his face. I awkwardly put my hands down and into the pockets of my hoodie.

The silence which enveloped us was painfully obvious and it made me want to say anything.

“Anything.”

“What?” He asked, surprised.

“What? oh, uh. Nothing.”

“So?” I dragged out awkwardly, only just discovering I had no idea what I even wanted to say to him.

Oh, “Sorry you look like you lost a street fight with a grizzly bear?”

Or “Sorry, your face looks like it got ran over by a hilux?”

I had chased a guy down with absolutely no idea what to say to– No. I had chased a guy I had just met with absolutely no idea what to say to him.

Were we even friends?

I stood nervously fiddling with my fingers as he towered above me, blocking the mild afternoon sun as he did so.

“What?” he asked harshly, his normally chocolatey smooth voice raspy and NOT chocolatey smooth anymore.

All my baddie energy suddenly disappeared and I, November Okunfolami, actually shrunk into myself a little.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” I said as I toyed with my nails and shoes and looked everywhere but him.

“Well. I am,” he all but shouted, the vein in his forehead throbbing again. He suddenly looked as if he might throw up.

Shouting with scars on your head, not a good combination Mr. Reggie.