While taking a shower in the morning Nicole longed for her husband, Timothy. The next book he was working on pulled him away from her. She hated that book. Even last night he had to cancel the reservation to the French restuarant they were suppose to have gone to. All because of he had to write.

Nicole turned off the water when she finished, grabbed the towel. She stepped out to dry herself. Even when she had put on her clothes and make up, drank coffee and ate a cereal, Timothy still laid asleep on the couch. The time on his watch read 06:05. He snorted like a pig and turned over for a better sleeping position. His head laid on the couch’s armrest, while he snuggled the cushion to his chest.

“Timothy. Tim.” She shook him. “Timothy.” It’s like trying to wake up a stone. One would swear he’s dead, not sleeping. She pinched his pinky toe. “Ow,” he moaned. She had thought about going to work and leave him asleep, but she realized it would be an issue like last time. As if she was his alarm. “You hurting me,” he complained sleepily. 

“Wake up.” A bunch of papers were scattered around the table close to the HP laptop. Some of them were on the carpet, next to the two empty cans of Red Bull and a bowl he’d been eating spaghetti and fish in. “And clean all this mess, please,” she said. “It smells in here.” She went to open the windows, but when she returned to the couch she found him asleep again.

“Timothy.” She smacked him on the leg. 

“Okay, okay. I’m waking.” He grimaced and managed to open his eyes. “You didn’t have to hit me that hard, though.” He scratched the side of his belly, looked up, and saw her holding one of his notes. “Where are you going dressed so nice?”

“Work,” she said. 

“I forgot. Back to school.” He yawned. “Holiday’s are over.”

“Yes.”

“Want me to accompany you?” He stretched his arms. 

“It’s too late for that,” Nicole said. “If you woke up on time then we would go.” She put down his paper. 

“I had a lot of work to do last night, babe.”

“Of course you did.” And she imagined him telling her the same thing when she knocks off and comes back to find all this mess still here. A lot of work. The book. The scattered papers were notes on the next The Night Watcher novel he’s working on. The paper she’d picked up had written information about the villain and her story. Nicole read it all with a little anger. Instead of waking him up she saw herself tearing all these pages and pouring coffee on his laptop. Then leaving him on the couch. 

“Isn’t that a little too short?” he looked at the black leather skirt she was wearing. 

“Have fun writing,” she said, but her tone didn’t match her words.

“Nicole, we talked about this,” he said. 

“Whatever.” She took her handbag and car keys and left the house.

***

Brandon Jr. looked at the tall houses his dad was speeding past. They almost looked blurry. His dad, Brandon Sr., put the Benz on speed because he was late for school. He kept rambling on the phone about work. It’s for this reason Brandon Jr. put his headphones on. Also for this reason he sat at the back. 

It took a little over an hour for them to arrive at the new school. Park Town High. His dad drove in and stopped near the cramped parking lot. Without a word Brandon took his schoolbag and got out. His dad only raised his hand in saying goodbye, then made a U-turn and drove out of the premise.

First day of the new school year, the place looked full. Some learners were dropped off from their parents’ cars like Brandon. Others, mostly white, drove themselves. The cold air tinkled with youthful chatter and laughter. Brandon stood among all these learners. He didn’t know any of them. Though he wore the same uniform he couldn’t help but feel out of place. This further made him stick out. He stood watching the people pace about in full knowledge of their way around here.

He saw no newcomer like him, despite the fact that there were newcomers. It’s only that they weren’t as seemingly lost as he was. He stepped on the hallway and took out the blue diary which the school had mailed to him. He turned to the map page and spent the next few minutes looking for his class, simply because he dreaded the awkwardness of asking the learners where Class 11H was. He later found it on the page. As he made his way on the corridor past all the learners and noise, someone called him out by name. 

It was a voice he knew. As he turned to it he saw Skitzo. The guy he saw last night. Skitzo introduced him to another boy, K.T, and they split the drugs evenly. Drugs they were going to sell in the school.

“You know how dangerous this shit is, bro?” K.T asked Brandon, who didn’t know whether the question meant the drugs themselves or selling them. 

Skitzo answered. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, he knows everything. We filled him up last night. Ain’t that right, buddy?” 

The bell rang wild like a siren. Brandon heard the learners outside by their school shoes on the concrete, all in a rhythm of a rush. The bell signaled them to gather at the assembly like every Monday. The first assembly of the school year.