New Kid

Haji

My feet skid across the floor. The ambiance of the bustling city calmed me down more than anything else. I walked very lazily and carelessly, occasionally tripping. My backpack bobbed up and down as my head bopped to the beat of my footsteps. The ice cream shop was close, so I decided to walk towards the nearest crosswalk. On the other side of the street, I could see a group of friends laughing as they entered the shop. Jealously arose in my gut. A man stepped forwards next to me. I assumed he was also waiting for the crosswalk before he spoke.

"Goin' to the ice cream store?" he began, "I could use some ice cream."

The man's voice was warm and almost fatherly. I continued looking straight. Thoughts scattered my mind, deciding whether to engage in the conversation or not. I looked down to see if he had a ring or not—there was no ring: he wasn't married. My brow had begun to sweat in apprehension.

"Yeah," was all that I could afford to let out.

I didn't even question why this man was talking to me.

"I could buy you a scoop. How does that sound kid?" he asked.

I was overthinking it. There were no positive thoughts about trusting a random adult offering to buy me treats. Scanning him as if he was a videogame character, a sense of dread overcame me. He noticed this, and his eyes stretched.

"I get it," he laughed.

"No, no, no- I just was trynna be careful. Ya know?" I spat out.

The green light appeared as I began to walk across the street, sweating. Did this guy seem like an abductor? If he was going to abduct me, this time of day is a terrible time to do that. As my feet reached the other side, I stopped and looked at the man.

"I'd be cool with you buyin' me a treat," I said apologetically.

I entered the shop with the man. There was a line of people, so I turned to him. He looked down at me with a smile and took out his hand.

"Haji,"

"I'm Evan."

I shook his hand stiffly. Mr. Haji looked back at the line. He pointed to show me it was our turn. When the cashier welcomed us, Mr. Haji began his order.

"Can I have one scoop of choco mint on a waffle cone?" he asked.

Mr. Haji looked at me promptly.

"Oh, uh- may I have one scoop of the blue wave flavour on a regular cone please?"

"Will that be all?" the cashier said happily.

"One more item, a carbonara." Mr. Haji added.

I looked at Mr. Haji, who scratched his head sheepishly. He found us a nice seat in the almost full shop. The red leather seats and the checkered floor gave the place a 60s era vibe. Taking off my backpacking, I looked at the window of cars stopping, turning, or passing by the traffic lights.

"I really like the carbonara here," Mr. Haji started, "have you tried it?"

The well-lit building presented an opportunity to scrutinize him more. He wore a business-like ensemble. Strapped around his shoulder was a bag, similar to my binder.

"No, but from what the food model looks like, it definitely looks tasty," I replied.

"So do you go to the school over back there?" he inquired, vaguely pointing with his thumb behind him in the direction the school was.

"Yeah, I do," I responded.

"Ah, so how is that? I can't imagine how many friends you must have. There's a lotta kids there, aren't there?"