I’m leaning against my school principal’s car when I feel the half bottle of vodka do a summersault under my belt. And the principals’ daughter Babs is checking me out with big brown eyes. They grow bigger and bigger until I start falling into them.
Before I can stop myself, I’m hurling. I’m chundering and heaving and spewing. Tossing my school lunch tuna sandwich all over my principal. All over beautiful, brown-eyed Babs. All over their car. Along with the half a bottle of vodka I drank during the drinking game I played with my homies Silas and Mondli to prove I’m not some Grade One Loser.
I stop hurling and sit in the driveway. Drinking could get me expelled from school. So I moan weakly about being poisoned by a tuna sandwich. It looks like the principal buys my story. But Mama looks at me with sad eyes and I can see that she doesn’t believe me.
My ouledi cleans up and sends the principal and Beautiful Babs on their way smelling like a Russian fishing boat.
My cellphone rings and Silas asks if I’m ready for the next test to prove I’m Ayoba! like them. I feel sick to my stomach but I say for sure. What must I do?
Image: Dave Lifson, CBY-NC-2.0