The Trinity girls are a mysterious lot.
Every day at noon, standing in the middle of the town square, they hand out flyers to a church no one will attend.
Under a dare, delinquent high schooler Simian dares to pick a pamphlet.
Scribbled, in a tiny...
He lied to his classmates about his life in Germany.
He lied to his mother about his father.
He also lied to his mother about the real reason he got expelled.
Despite facing a harrowing new term at a rural boarding school in the coming months, it had not crossed Simian's mind to tell anyone the truth.
What was the point? What had happened, happened.
He tried to stretch out the cramp forming in his neck but his grandmother's grip on his head was venomous. Surrounding him were her Women's Prayer group, eyes shut in prayer, asking the Lord to save Simian from hell.
He peered at the clock as it slowly clicked towards 1 PM. A growl rumbled through the hymnals. His grandmother clamped down on his curls. He bit down a wince.
The scent of slow boiled chicken wafted into the living room, torturing him. It was his favourite but Simian could not stay. This would lead to unnecessary conversations and he'd already lied so much in the week he'd arrived.
After he'd helped lay the table, he excused himself with another pathetic lie. Even as it rolled off his tongue Simian knew no one believed him. At least this time...
Simian found the crew at the dusty football field.
The three boys, Wekesa, Harry, and Justin were huddled around each other nursing down a cheap vodka.
"Simian!" Wekesa cried as he jostled the bottle out of Harry's hand.
Simian's fingers curled into a fist, he was the one paying and these leeches couldn't even wait for him.
The seller of the bottle, a scrawny outsider walked over to him. Simian handed him the money. His mother hadn't known he had a secret savings stash, so technically this wasn't one of his lies.
It hadn't taken much to bribe the owner. It had however, taken some time to find him.
Everyone in this sleepy town was in everyone's business. Finding the perfect person to sell them contraband proved difficult.
Simian took a swig of whatever vodka was left and sprawled himself on the ground, paying no mind to the dirt. His shirt would be wrecked but, so was everything else, he thought.
"No chaser?" Justin asked sitting by him. Simian spared the tall, quiet boy a glance. He was neater than all of them. More... put together. Whatever he'd done to get exiled to the country must've been legendary because Simian had no leads.
"Got any?" Simian asked.
Justin chuckled and lay down beside him, "No."
Using his bag as a ball, Wekesa scored a goal and broke into a victory lap around the field kicking up clouds of dust in the unforgiving sun. Harry collapsed inside the goal post, screaming.
They were drunk.
Who could blame them? There was nothing there else to do.
Dusk settled around them. The boys collected their belongings and made off to town on their bikes.
There weren't any fast-food chains around but Justin had made friends with a humble restaurant owner's son named Jacob. At Jacob's, they were guaranteed some decent fries.
They sat outside the doors waiting as Jacob fidgeted with the locks from inside.
Simian crouched on the pavement watching as the market stalls closed shop, townspeople trudged home, and bars began to open. Back in the city it was all glass and glitz. Fast cars whizzing past even faster lives.
He would never get used to this.
And then he saw them.
He saw them before the rest.
The afternoon sun bathed their hazel, chocolate, and ebony complexions in a warm, golden glow. White, lacey floor-length dresses flirted with the wind, carrying curly hair with it.
Everyone always stared at Simian and his city boys. These girls didn't spare a glance.
They slipped into a van and were driven off into the sunset.
The boys only came to when the scent of oily fries disrupted the lavender and jasmine scent left behind. Jacob opened up the shop for them.
"Who... who are those?" Harry asked, catatonic.
Jacob shook his head as he answered.
"You don't want to know, trust me."
Simian cycled home in the dark with a million little thoughts keeping him company.
He skipped dinner with his grandma and headed straight to his room, the muscles in his coppery face ticking into a smile.
As sleep rocked him, his mind settled into one distinct thought.
He did in fact want to know.
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*Bored people sure do come up with the strangest things. Simian and his crew have no idea what they've signed up for...*
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