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Box I - Part II

The school bell rings. Once. Twice. Class is over.
"Good job everyone. Excellent work has been completed today. And of course, a special mention to Hazaa, who has quickly understood and completed his tasks like all his other peers in his section. Well done." We don't clap. A special mention from Miss Amik really means that you do better than others. For him to have one on his first day proves he is competition. Everyone quietly acknowledges him, and I can see the smallest tint of pink appearing on his cheeks. She walks towards to the door, and has already walked out when her head bobs back in and asks for Hazaa to follow her. The other children are disappointed. No asking questions or interrogation just yet.
Immediately people start talking about him. The older kids think he's annoying (but only because they still haven't received a special mention). The younger children wonder if he would be willing to play games with them at breaks. Some of the girls talk about how lovely he looks, Mutakabir butting in every so often in a desperate attempt to make the conversation about him. I, for one, have not yet made my mind about him. While most would have considered his cold shoulder rude, there was an air of discreetness around him. He was careful only to ask me about the work, and whenever I had gone slightly off-topic, he would bring me back, saying Miss Amik wants us to finish the task. I didn't blame him for that. In fact, I was like him once, only focusing on work without realising that that mentality stopped me from having friends. I wonder how long it will take him to figure this out.
It didn't take him long at all.
He comes back in the room with a smile on his face, and takes back his seat next to me. Everyone rushes in around us, and I can see he wasn't expecting it by how startled and amused he looks. Again, Bint asks the questions, but not without introducing us all first. She points to me, then the person next to me, going up to the upper years, then back down to show the smaller ones. He nods his head, trying to take it in.
"It's very nice to meet you all." He says.
"Nice to meet you too. So, you said your parents were sole traders?" Bint asks.
"Yep. They buy and sell electronics." He says.
"Woah. Your parents must be rich then, right?" Sahal asks. People giggle at the directness of his question. Hazaa laughs too.
"I guess so." He says.
"I'm guessing they're going to come to the Annual Visit, aren't they?" Bint asks.
"Annual Visit?"
"It's when all parents or carers come to see the children they are funding. We can't see them all the time because of the price for them to come too often. But once a year, the price drops by half, and most of them come to visit us then." She explains.
"Well, I don't know about the visit being annual, but my parents promised to visit every week. They were here just now." He says. People gasp.
"You mean they're that wealthy?!" Qayuur says, astounded. The class becomes filled with murmurs from all directions. Hazaa laughs again.
"Well, what about your parents? What are they?" He asks.
"My parents are also business people." Mutakabir says proudly.
"Yeah, they sell socks and towels. What a business." Tanii says sarcastically, his friends smiling and shoving him.
"My parents are constructions workers."
"My mum is a hairdresser and my dad is a doctor."
"My mum is an engineer."
All around the class, people boast about their parent or carer's career. I say nothing, and for that exact reason, Hazaa turns to me.
"What about you?" He asks. The class begins to quieten.
"My dad's married to another woman and they aren't well off enough to provide for me and their other son. I don't really know him that well, but I know he's a painter."
"What about your mum?"
"My mum's an acrobat and magician." Hazaa's eyes glisten, and his smile widens. When he realises I'm not joking, it widens even more.
"So like, she's a circus monkey?" He says, and laughs. Mutakabir joins in, but stops when no one else does. It doesn't stop Hazaa. "Is she going to come and perform a little act for us on the Visit?" He teases. His eyes are mocking, his perfect teeth continuously shown-off as his smile gets bigger and bigger.
"She can't."
"Why? Is she not that good?"
"Shujaaca's mother is dead. Two years ago." Bint says.
"Ah. So you're on GovDebt aren't you?" Hazaa says.
"What's that?" She asks.
"GovDebt." He repeats, as if that will help us understand. "You guys don't know what GovDebt is?"
"Hurry up and explain." Yahmii shouts from the back.
"GovDebt. It's like, when you don't have a carer to fund you, like if you're an orphan, for example. The money that your carers had before you can be accessed by the bank. They don't change the password so that you, the funded, will get the account when you reach 16. Right now, you're using the money on the account without realising it. But it can only give you so much without a steady income regularly coming in. Eventually, you'll have nothing, and the funds you have will be provided for by the government, and you'll have to pay back the debt when you start working. They give you the account no matter how much is in it. Some people are fortunate to still have funds in it. Some people have to repay their carers' debts for them." He explains. Everyone's eyes turn towards me. They look at me with pity. I don't really mind. I knew there were going to be problems as soon as mum died. I didn't know they were so...so financial.
"Poor Shujaaca. First the monster, now this." Haloo says.
"Monster?"
"Yeah! Shujaaca sees it every night. It's really big!" She continues, arms flailing trying to show what she means by big . "And very dark too. And-"
"That's enough, Haloo." Yahmii says. She stops talking and slops back in her chair.
"Right." He says, obviously not believing the imaginative fantasies of a five year old girl. He has so much to learn. "Can anyone give me a tour of the place, maybe?" Unsurprisingly, Mutakabir volunteers. They both leave class. The others all file out of the room to the break area. In such a short amount of time, I have realised that I absolutely hate Hazaa. Miss Amik praises him. He makes fun of me. Exposes my personal issues, and still, people appear to like him.
The break area is the name for the area outside in the home's back garden. It's spacious, with two large trees planted on each corners of the garden. The older ones have already claimed one tree spot, and I rush to the other, it's cool shadow comforting.
That's where I always sit alone.