She spent the morning preparing for work. Nicole was composed, taking her time with the bubble bath. The makeup. The breakfast. But someone knocked at the door. When she opened it her peace shattered. All of it. Tim was back, unconscious. Two guys held him on the arms. He looked like he’s about to fall.

“Morning, Miss,” said one of the guys, whom she didn’t know. 

“Hi. Where’d you get him?” 

“At the club. Pretty messed up.”

She didn’t need them to further elaborate. She knew her husband when he’s off the bottle. She could only wonder who did he fight with this time. At the club. Didn’t he say he’s at Jason’s? Was he lying? Or did they go to the club afterwards? 

“Thank you,” she told the men. “You can put him over there.” She pointed to the couch. They dragged her husband and dropped him there. He was like a lifeless body, or a ragdoll. Only he was too drunk. He didn’t notice her. His wife. He didn’t notice anyone. He may not even know that he’s home. He babbled something, lips full of spit. 

Nicole thanked the men again and they left. She closed the door after them. Timothy babbled more gibberish, sounding like a baby who’s trying to talk. He was trying to tell her something, but Nicole didn’t care. 

She wanted to beat him. Hadn’t he learnt from what happened in the past? Hadn’t he thought about her? That wherever he went he represented her. What would people think? The media would sure run stories on this. Top selling author seen fighting at Club. And then the gossip at school. The other teachers. 

Now Nicole didn’t feel like going. But she was already dressed, fresh and ready. She snatched her car keys and left him snoring on the couch. 

***

Dad dropped Brandon off at school in the morning, like yesterday. But this time around he didn’t feel as lost. Park Town High was a small school in geographical terms. 

The clouds opened up and the sun bore down on Brandon. On Brandon’s far left a car door opened. A white BMW, and Nicole struggled out of it. Her hands were full. She carried a large black file and a stack of books. Car keys dangled in the right hand as she shut the door close. She wore a long flimsy black dress so tight it outlined her wide curves and giant butt. As she moved three books slid off and fell. Brandon went to her, to offer a helping hand. But a little bald boy who was in the eighth grade beat him to it.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, boy.”

The bald boy lessened the load in her hand. Brandon watched them go. He stood transfixed at her behind. His eyes went there because there was nothing else of interest at the back of the teacher. It’s like staring at a group of girls; the prettiest of them all will be the most noticeable. Once she and the boy disappeared out of his sight he remembered himself and his surrounding. Nobody had seen him staring at the teacher. Not that those who’d seen him would judge. They’d probably share the nice view with him. 

Someone gave him a startling tease. A tickle from behind, and when he turned he saw Joey, who was already laughing. 

“Stop that. Hey!” Brandon said. “Where’s Ben?” 

“That fool. Maybe he’s in class. He’s always early.” 

The first lesson hadn’t begun yet, so they ambled around. 

The bell rang, a signal to the day’s first lesson. The learners hurried to classes, all of them buzzing with their school bags. Brandon and Joey found Ben in Room 9, where Maths was taught. Some learners were already stationed in their seats. The teacher, Sir. Dickens, walked in and greeted. Everyone stood up. 

The next lesson was Economics. Taught by a bald black woman whom the kids secretly nicknamed Miss Baldy. Brandon actually enjoyed the lesson. He understood the lady, Mrs. Rothwell, and he even asked her some questions. It felt like he was learning this topic for the first time, like he wasn’t repeating it. Ben asked the most questions, his hand almost always went up. And after each response he’d jot it down. 

Brandon looked around for Martin. He spotted him with his big glasses, seated at the middle left with Taryn, the small faced brunette. Martin. The smartest in the class. He didn’t raise his hand and he never answered any questions posed by the teachers. Nor did he have an open book next to him where he scribbled notes. He simply sat there motionless. He took everything the teacher said. He took it by ears and sight. The silent one in the class but the most loudest in grades. He looked back at Brandon. That’s when Brandon realized he’d stared at him for too long. Even the teacher noticed, as she called back for his attention. “Eyes at the front.”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

“Now, as I was saying…” she carried on. 

The bell rang later and the period ended. Chairs scraped the floor as the learners got up. As usual, Joey exited the class with Brandon at his side. Ben joined them from behind. “Where we going now?” he asked. 

“I think it’s English,” Joey said. 

Ben walked while putting his pen and book inside his Nike bag. He zipped it shut, while Joey asked him: “Where were you yesterday?”

“Yesterday?”

“I came to your crib, found your mama only. She said you went out.”

“Oh, I was at Uncle Barn’s,” Ben said. “Had to help him with the campaign.” 

Brandon asked what campaign. 

“My uncle runs one against drug distribution in this town.”

“Sounds nice,” Brandon said. “What drove your uncle to start a campaign?” 

Ben snickered. “Is that a serious question?” He fixed his glasses in place, like he didn’t trust what they showed him. “We are living in Park Town, in case you forgot, buddy. I know it hasn’t been long since you moved in here but I’m sure you’ve noticed or heard about the drugs. The gangs. All that fuckery.”

“Everybody wanna get high in Park Town,” Joey said with a little grin. “Except for us, of course. We cool.”

“Operation Take Down is what Uncle Barny named his campaign. We are like the Batmen of this Gotham,” Ben said. “All these gangs fear us.” 

Brandon couldn’t mistake the pride in those words. He and Joey and Ben walked past Skitzo and his crew. They followed Skitzo inside Room 06, their next class. 

“Those punks,” Ben said. Disgust replaced the pride in his voice. “Those murderers. Oh, if I can just bust one of them.”

Joey laughed. 

“You really don’t like these guys, huh?” Brandon said, but he realized it’s something he needn’t ask. Who would like Skitzo and his gang? What good did they ever do? He often found it surprising that they were in school. But looking at all the drugs they pushed that could be the reason why they were here. 

“My dad OD’d last year,” Ben said. “Coke.”

“Sorry.”

“And those punks will be too, Brandon boy. You’ll see.” Ben smiled now. They arrived at Room 23 and found Nicole standing in front of the class. 

“You’re late.” She was about to write something on the board before these three disturbed her with their entrance. They quietly apologized and rushed to their seats. Brandon and Joey sat at the middle front, like yesterday. They took out their books. 

She wrote on the board, and began talking about what she wrote. “Open to page 17 of your textbooks and check out those examples.” She continued with this, explaining how it’s done. She asked a question. Several hands shot up, excluding Brandon’s. He wished he knew the answer. He knew that Martin also knew the answer, but Martin didn’t bother to raise his hand. Brandon thought about raising his hand also, just to get the teacher to look at him, even though he’ll give a wrong answer. It wouldn’t hurt to take a guess. To try. To get her attention. 

But she pointed at someone at the back. The girl replied.

“Correct,” the teacher said, rewarding the girl with a quick smile. She continued, referring them to further pages. Her teaching corresponded with the textbook. Brandon raised his hand. She stopped talking, looked at him. 

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” he said. “Please go back a little, I didn’t hear that.”

She repeated what she said without looking at him anymore. It’s true he hadn’t heard her. It’s because he focused more on her face and body than what came out of her mouth. He’d even focus more on the lips themselves than the words they formed. Brandon enjoyed the view of her, no doubt. Her voluptuous frame going left and right. Explaining, writing on the board, asking questions. Only when she asked a question did he attune his listening. But sometimes he wouldn’t understand the question because he didn’t catch the words preceding it. This time he did. And when he raised his right hand she didn’t pick him. She selected a boy at the left, Samuel Jones, and he gave a correct answer. 

“Well done,” she said. 

Brandon took the snub personally. He felt she avoided his hand on purpose. You’re silly, he told himself. But she hadn’t even looked at him when he had his hand up, almost as if the hand wasn’t up at all. Like she preferred anyone, anyone but him to answer. 

She was talking about different types of sentences, explaining each one of them.

She asked another question, requesting an example of one of the sentences. “Rephrase a statement using a pronoun to refer back to the subject.” An easy question. Brandon’s hand shot up first. Nicole, driven by instinct, looked at it and it’s owner. Brandon smiled. Nicole smiled too. She picked him. He got up from his chair, unnecessary. Answers could be given while seated. Why he stood up he himself had no clue. He found himself on his feet before he knew it. The class became silent, waiting for his response. There came giggles as the learners found his prolonged silence amusing. They must’ve thought he had forgotten his answer, or was struggling to get it out. 

Then he blurted: “Mrs. Gardner is a beautiful woman. The beautiful woman is Mrs. Gardner.” 

One boy laughed and, as if on cue, the rest of the class followed. 

Nicole smiled at him. He felt like melting. “Thank you, Brandon,” she said. “That’s correct.”

He sat down and Joey gave him a fist bump.

She remembered his name. But looking at his first impression on her yesterday he found it believable. She remembered his name and said it. He looked at her once more and thought wow, she really is beautiful. 

Minutes later the period ended for the first break. Brandon stepped into the full yard he vanished. He didn’t want Joe and Ben to know that he was going to Skitzo, and he also didn’t want to lie to them about where he was going. He meant to keep a watchful eye on those two, especially after what Ben said. 

K.T and Skitzo instructed him where he should sell. He left the class and went over to the trade-spots.