My High School Life

Chapter Fifteen

Jerome

  "Why is your uniform dirty?" was the first question my mom asked me as soon as I stepped into the house. I was surprised she was home early.

"For the second time, Jerome, why is your uniform dirty?" She asked louder. Like she cared.

"Good afternoon ma. You're home early," I simply stated.

"That's not the answer to my question, Mr man," she glared at me and then I noticed she had no make up on and she was clad in casual pink, flare gown. Seems she didn't go to work today.

"I fell and it got stained."

I dropped my bag on the couch and slumped on the chair.

"Take that bag upstairs, freshen up and come and eat your food."

I stared at her properly, to check if someone was using my mom's face.

"Don't look at me like that and do what I said."

  I didn't have strength to argue, so I stood up like an obedient Samuel and started for the stairs.

"And....your father and I discussed..." she leaned on the dining chair.

"And?" I inquired.

"He hired a driver for you. Since you can't drive your car now, the driver will do that."

"I don't need a driver. And I don't need a car to take me to school, I have legs," I pointed out.

"You're a Jordan!  You're not to be seen trekking to school. What will our friends say?"

"I don't give a damn about what they say. Is it their legs I'm using to trek? Besides, I'm not complaining."

"I don't have time to argue with you, Jerry," she walked to the kitchen, "freshen up baby boy."

  It's been ages since I heard that nick name from her. She is the only one who calls me Jerry.

    I ascended the stairs and walked down the hallway.
I opened the door to my room and locked it as I entered. I removed my uniforms and dumped it in the laundry basket.
I took a quick shower within minutes and got into a blue shorts and pale blue T shirts.

  My mom or the maids had already set the table. I sat down down and feasted on the yam and fried eggs.

I returned my plates to the kitchen and washed them.

"Thanks mum," I said as I wiped my hands with an handkerchief.

"You're welcome dear," Her eyes were glued to her phone.

Isn't she too old to be addicted to phones?

"Don't forget your exams are coming up. Are you reading?" she looked at me with raised brows.

"Yes mum."

"Good," she turned her attention back to the phone.

I went to my room and picked up my phone. I switched on the mobile data and received millions of messages.

I checked Bayo's message.

'Hey, Mr Cobham said we have practice by 5:00pm at grace field.'

   I checked the time. 4:30 pm. I grabbed my big sports bag and stuffed it with my football boots, two water bottles, an extra pair of clothes and a ball.
I changed into my sport jersey and put on a sneaker. I slung the bag over my shoulder and grabbed my phone.

"Where to?" mom questioned.

"Practice."

"Be home before seven."