RAE POV
This neighborhood wasn't so bad after all. Before I got here, other kids went on and on about how the rich in Huruma harassed everyone. How they'd walk their dogs every morning and release the leash if people like us appeared. It was not like that at all. The environment was serene, the paths clean, so unlike where I lived. You could almost smell the trees along the sidewalks. This morning I just walked past an old woman walking her chihuahua and she kindly smiled at me.
"Niaje? (Hello)" I am startled by a guy in grey sweatpants and a black really baggy tee with a huge portrait of Snoopdog in the front and an equally black jacket. His hair was neat shave.
"Poa. (I'm good)" I reply enthusiastically. I wouldn't mind making a friend or two.
I am not an introvert. I think it sucks for people like those. I love to talk, party, play video games and dance.
"Naitwa Ken, unitwa? (My name is Ken, what's yours?)" He says, catching me in awe.
I didn't think rich people were okay speaking like this. We called them 'cool kids' because we thought they have nothing to deal with or they don't like Swahili at all. Yet another mystery uncovered for my friends back home.
"Reina, napenda kuitwa Rye. (Reina but call me Rye.)" He seems cool.
"Kuna vile umeninyce, nmekukufia. Naeza pata number yako?(You have impressed me in a way, I have fallen for you. Can I get your number?) He says and that takes the smile off my face. I never once thought I'd experience such an awkward approach in this part of the country.
"Zi. (No.)" I use my slang to reply to that. There's no way I'm giving my number to a guy that just told me that.
"Mbona mrembo?(why pretty?)" He says bluntly and that's where I stop listening.
I guess boys are the same everywhere then. Why won't they take no for an answer? They have to ask why you say no? They don't put in the work. They just say things and in the next statement they are begging for your number. Typical boys.
I had hoped somewhere in this neighborhood at least was a guy of my dreams. I fall in love with the guys I see on the tv screen. The kind in books who are perfect and I spend my time imagining what it would be like if they existed. All my friends say I should look for one in real life. (Khloe Rose)
"Acha kuota. Vitu kwa ground ni different. (Stop dreaming. Reality is different.)" They'd say. I get let down by both the bad boys and the nice guys. I'm never giving more than I receive, so I'd rather stick to the ones who don't know me. I repeat that second stanza over and over in my head as I quicken my pace but he catches up.
"Mbona huongei? Na si uchill?( why won't you talk? Won't you relax?)" He keeps pestering. I don't even think when I see a guy ahead of me and call out to him.
"Hey babe, you've not been waiting too long now have you?" I tap on his shoulder before he could take a step to cross the road and when he turns, he wears a confused expression and my eyes widen immediately.
I really didn't think this through. I have never met a mzungu let alone talked to one. Oh the embarasment. What will this guy say and now I just stiffen and hope he'll play along just long enough for Ken to walk away. Please, please, pretty please, my expression said. He was of average height and it's obvious from the size of his muscles that he has hit the gym not once or twice. His hair is a dark shade of brown and a few strands fall perfectly on his face as the rest is neatly settled back. It perfectly matches his piercing blue eyes and square jaw. His skin was flawless it took me aback. He takes a step back that helps me notice the shinny black leather he wore to match his white floral shirt that perfectly huggs his body and is unbuttoned to reveal a small part of his chest, just enough to send a girl's mind wandering. It is well tucked in black pants. He has his hands in his pockets, maybe to exaggerate the opening on his chest. He obviously knows how hot he looks and isn't trying to hide it. I can bet what he wore would cover my expenses for months. Every ounce in me beggs to run and hope to never cross paths with any of them again.
He smiles and holds out his hand.
Great! He's playing along. I thought he'd shut me up and say i confused him for someone. I ses him throwing glances at Ken. Maybe girls usually do this lots of times.
"Hello love, of corse not, shall we?" He says. His voice is lets say, velvety. Love? Well played. I can't help but replay his deep voice in my head. I smile and stretch out my hands which he openly welcomes. His are soft, almost as if he is a three year old. How is that possible? Oh, yea, I forget these people almost never hold hoes in farms. He looks at me for a second and I wear a confused look which changes after I realize the way he was holding my hand. He was looking for approval and when a smile forms on my face, he brings the back of my palm to meet his warm,soft, moisten lips for a flashing second before wrapping it around his arm that he immediately pockets and begins to walk silently forcing me to follow. I could picture Ken's disappointed face as he walks away and that makes me smile to myself. Stopping at a safe distance gets my staged boyfriend to stop.I mumble a thankyou more to myself and tear from his arm then quickly walk away before he forms an impression.
"Rye. First day of school!" I wake up to a yelling Brian. Brian is a child in the family that sponsores me. He is a bit older, like two years. He is in his forth year of highschool. He has a dark complexion. Darker than mine and his teeth are so white I almost thought they were plastic. He says his mom makes him go to the dentist everytime to get them whitened. He is of a tall statue and has a soft voice.
"I made cereal." He speaks lower against my bedroom door not daring to open it. I like that he knows his boundaries.
"Thanks." I say plainly. That bed was too cosy to get me out of bed that early. I pull in the bowl and... Quater bowl of cereal and milk?
"Mnashiba hii?( Does this fill you?)" I ask tapping the side of the bowl with my mouth full.
"All day, any day." He replies.My eyes widen and I swallow hard.
"Twende (let's go), we'll drive through a fast food store and get you a burger or two. Hio ni sawa?(is that okay?)" He walks out not waiting for my response.
I wasn't planning on giving him any so I pick my back pack and follow him to his black Audi. His mom is always up early and home late. She is a sweet one to be around. She brings us snacks every evening. Never seen his dad around and in the week that I've stayed around, I haven't asked.
Pokeme high is different. In my previous school, uniform was compulsory and unalterable. One was not allowed to alter one that didn't fit. Here, decency was the only rule and even that, that was absolutely subjective . The hallways are clean and lockers are customized. From flower and pretty princess stickers to ball and race car stickers all over. I think that made it abit messy but I love that i can customise mine. Loud chats and giggles from gossiping girls are heard. A guy passes by me on a skateboard.
"Did he just?" Brian gets my concern and lets out a low laugh then leads me to a plain locker and shows me how to open it. He leaves after a goodbye and take care of yourself. He's so sweet. I wish my brother was this soft. inside my locker are three blue A4 hard cover books, a blue bic pen and a smaller A6notebook.
Wow.
I'm trying to get my books arranged and they slip between having them in my locker and outside my bag. I struggle to catch them in the space between the locker and my body. Who wants to make a mess on their first day. Turning to see if anyone notices my mess, my eyes meet a neat Mr bue eyes. Of course he'd go to this school. I decide that if I turn fast he'd notice so stick to turning slowly as if I didn't notice anything.
That kind of attention on me? Not today. Well, it worked. He walks right past me and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.