[COMPLETE] African Pride

3. Breakups and Demons

The temptation to skip school was overwhelming, but I knew the consequences if I did it.... again. I had skipped school only two times in the past. The first time was when I slipped out of classes to save a cheetah caught in a poacher's trip, the news carried by the birds of the air. The second time was after I had gotten into a fight with another student for calling me nusu-uzazi, an insult that meant half-breed.

Both times the Headmaster threatened to beat me with a cane, but since corporal punishment had been illegal in the country since 2001; he settled on suspension. However, the Headmaster threatened that if I caused problems again, then he would personally expel me.

In Kenya, there were four levels of learning before going to a university: Primary, Secondary, Post-secondary, and Vocational. I was in Secondary, which was schooling for children aged fourteen to seventeen. From seven in the morning to five in the evening I would be in nine-period classes and learning everything from languages to physics.

The school that I attended was called Royal Abasi Academy. Located less than fifteen minutes from my home, the school was initially founded for children of the wealthy British colonizers; back when England owned the land that was now Kenya. After Kenya won its independence, the school became the host of the wealthy children of the Nairobi elite.

Unfortunately, I was one of them because of Baba and his position in the community.

Parking my jeep where the Seniors park, I swung my kitambaa—backpack—over my shoulders and hopped out. As I did so, someone hurrying by caught my attention. I recognized the braided crown on Her head, and I couldn't stop the smile that split my face.

Dalia.

Perhaps this crappy day won't be so bad after all.

Waiting a couple of moments for her to get inside first, I swiftly followed and turned right when she turned left. I knew where Dalia was headed, and I also knew that there was a private room where I could catch her before class. Slipping inside, I listened to the many footsteps that hastened past before I recognized the ones that were Dalia's. Opening the door, I grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, closing the door all with a single, fluid motion.

We were alone in the room, although we wouldn't have long. The room was dark, save for the soft light that comes through an overhead window; but it was enough for me to see her face, and she mine.

"K—K—Kara?" Dalia stammered. "What are you—?"

She stopped speaking the moment my lips pressed to hers. Her beautiful, soft lips.

Dalia froze, and I expected her to wrap her arms around me like she always did when we kissed. Her hands reached out, gripping my shoulders—and then firmly shoved me back.

"Karasi!" Dalia snarled. "What are you doing?"

This reaction bewildered me, as Dalia had never refused my kisses before.

"I'm...kissing you," I replied slowly. "Isn't that what a girlfriend does? I'm sorry, should I have asked?"

I thought that maybe Dalia was upset that I didn't ask to kiss her, but that confused me even more. Dalia never had me ask before, most of the time she was the one who was asking. Why was my girlfriend acting so strange?

Dalia exhaled deeply. "Karasi we—we need to talk—"

I inclined my head. "What do you mean?"

Dalia shifted on her feet as if she was nervous; she wiped her palms on her pleated black skirt as if they were sweaty. "I'm just going to have to come out and say it. Karasi, we can't keep doing this."