"And now, o sons, listen to me, and do not depart from the words of my mouth." Prov 5:7
Naomi.
"Hey Aunty Social."
"Nice moves Aunty Social."
"You coming for the next socials Aunty Social?"
I'v been in SJV's for exactly two weeks now, all plans of coming in and slipping out quietly with good results were ruined the day I met Ezra.
Maybe then, I still had a chance of being the student no one will ever notice. That chance was lost on saturday when my name changed from Naomi Idahose to Aunty Social.
All thanks to Ezra.
That boy needs serious medical attention. If not for him, I wouldn't be ducking at every corner because all I hear is Aunty Social.
And when i'd complained to him yesterday, he just shrugged and said that I should be glad he made me a celeb. When I objected, he told me to calm down and let it play out.
"In John Vianney's, nothing lasts long. Aunty Social would soon be old gist."
I almost lost it but I knew better than to yell at The Bible Boy, just to save myself from further embarassment. I don't want SJV headlines to scream Aunty Social And Bible Boy: Big Face-off In Class. So I went back to my seat to silently vex with him.
In other words, all Ezra wants me to do is strike a fierce pose in the middle of the field and scream on top of my lungs "THE PAPARAZZI WANT ME" repeatedly until they want me no more.
I so hate that boy.
Sometimes, I wonder why he even started talking to me. I wonder what strange force propelled him to make those paper planes.
I only know his surname because that's what teachers call him. I guessed his first name and he said I was right.
What if he was lying. What if I got it wrong and he wanted me to think I was right. Staff call him Allen and everyone else calls him Bible Boy. So there's really nothing to make me believe that his name is Ezra.
I only know he's the Bible Boy and he's annoying as fuck.
As they say, curiosity kills the cat.
And satisfaction brought it back.
I look up at the clock in the language lab while the literature teacher whose name I am yet to know, keeps explaining the history of slave trade to the class in order to help us get a wider view of the play we were reading. I'm not paying attention, if only the teacher could see me right now, i'm so restless, i'v doodled practically every living animal at the back of my note and I still can't keep my hand to myself, my legs won't stop moving too.
I turn around to look at Ezra(?). The man of mystery, as usual, is sitting at the back, as absent minded as he can ever be, in his own world as he sketches in a black hardcover notebook on his desk with the Bible beside it.
I stop gawking at him, afraid the teacher would notice i'm not paying attention and call on me and tap Shoke who is sitting beside me flipping through the pages of her literature text.
"Shoke, can I ask you something?" I whisper.
She shrugs. "Even if I say no, you'll still ask."
True.
"Um...uhhhh....." I start hesitantly.
Shoke stops flipping the pages of her book to observe me. "You seem agitated." She states.
