African Short Stories: Working Relationship

...7...

Eventually, when I get to class for night prep on Tuesday, I meet my diary in my locker, having left it with Zar yesterday morning to in his words, digest the complexities and weirdness of my nearly 16-year-old life while he masturbates. I told him he wouldn't be able to focus or even see through the blinding passion. He asked me if all this while, I hadn't noticed that his eyes were bionic.

Since then, I've really been hoping that he was just being Zar- forever joking.

I ended up leaving my diary with him along with a warning- a single stain on my book and his long john won't be so long anymore.

I unlock and open the book.

Your life is a mess. A gorgeous mess. Because I brought in the gorgeous.

Below that is a doodle of himself winking.

P.S. with the way you obsess over the Dikko, you really need to hump me as soon as practicable.

Meet me at the back door of your dorm block at 10:50 sharp. I 'persuaded' the female guard to give me a spare key. Don't worry- the sex will be extra rough I never disappoint.

Know you're dying to hump me.

-Zar.

I chuckle to myself.

"What are you laughing at?" Kabir, beside me, tries to snoop into my diary.

"Nothing," I quickly snap it shut.

He knows it's my diary but I've never let him read it. As Zar rightfully stated, I've obsessed way too much over Kabir in my diary. There's no way I'd ever let him read all that!

"Weird girl," he says, giving me this weird look, before returning back to minding his business.

I stick my tongue out at him. Thankfully, Kabir has always respected my rules around my diary. Even if he has no idea the level of weirdness in there. And he never will.

Opening the book again, I titter at Zar's words once more.

"Dog," I murmur with a secret smile.