CHAPTER NINE: MY NEW SEAT PARTNER
"The person is a boy, but he sits alone."
"Okay!" I said as I sat down and dropped my bag next to my desk on the ground, where it rested by the edge of the desk.
"You didn't even ask why he sits alone?" Morayo asked, looking at me as if expecting a reaction.
"Is he non-human?" I asked, confused by the question Morayo had posed.
Morayo laughed at what I said.
I shrugged in response.
"No, he's just quiet and very lonely. He doesn't associate with people at all," Victoria answered.
"And the coolest thing about him is that he is a dark beauty," Morayo whispered, as if scared someone would hear her.
"He is lonely and handsome. Okay," I noted.
Morayo and Victoria looked at each other before turning back to me.
"Are you telling me that no one talks to him, not even the girls who admire him?" I asked, not wanting to see their annoying faces when it came to me asking the question.
"He talks to people and they talk to him. He's just mostly alone," Victoria said.
"...And speaking of the boy, here he comes." I turned to look at the boy approaching the seat I was on.
"Don't look at him," Victoria warned as she and Morayo faced the front.
I also faced forward, wondering why she would say I shouldn't look at him.
The boy dropped his bag at the edge of the desk on the ground and sat down, placing a notebook on the table and opening it.
He wasn't even bothered by the person sitting beside him. It's not like I'm a burglar or something, but still…
"Hey," I said to him, facing him this time as I looked at his angelic face.
He was indeed handsome, with those ocean-coloured eyes, a fresh well-formed face and a birthmark beneath his eye. Cute!
His hair looked as if it was gelled, but it seemed he had natural baby hair with a well-cut shape.
He turned to look at me and waited for me to speak.
Low-key, his quietness was killing me and, damn, I hated boring seat partners.
"I'm Floral, your new seat partner, as you can see," I said to him, smiling.
"John," he answered straight-forwardly before opening the notebook and continuing his unfinished sketch.
"You draw beautifully; I admire artists' art," I complimented him.
He smiled instead of speaking.
Cute of him; it seemed I had just made him smile.
"Mr Kolawole is coming," a student said as he peeped to see who was approaching before running back to his seat.
Everyone sat down immediately, as if someone with a gun was coming. There wasn't a single person standing, and John returned his notebook into his bag almost at once. Weird!
A male teacher called Mr Kolawole entered the classroom.
"Good morning, sir. We are happy to see you, sir. God bless you, sir," the whole class stood up and greeted him.
I joined them, since that was how we did in my elementary school.
"Good morning. You may sit," he said, and everyone sat down.
He stood in front of the board, dropped his textbook on the nearest table and brought out his cane.
"Bring out your notebooks and turn to the assignment I gave you. If you haven't done it, come outside, except for the students from the second batch," he said, walking round to see who hadn't.
"Which subject does he teach?" I asked John, watching him bring out his notebook.
"Mathematics," he answered.
I brought out my book and wrote 'Mathematics' as the subject before looking at the students who had gone out. They were up to ten.
How many students are in this class, for crying out loud?
I looked around the large class and still saw many seated.
"So, out of fifty-seven students in the class, only thirteen didn't do their assignment, except for the new students from the second batch," he said as he went to meet those outside.
They were mostly females who hadn't done their assignment. Maybe girls didn't like maths in this class, because only two boys were outside.
"Should I beat them or punish them?" Mr Kolawole asked, facing the rest of the class.
Some shouted "Beat them!" while others said "Punish them!"
"If you are in favour of me punishing them, raise your hand," he said, and some raised theirs. "Okay, twenty-two," he counted with a smile. "If you are in favour of me beating them, raise your hand," he continued, and more hands went up. "Twenty-five. Seems I should beat you all for not doing your assignment," he said, turning to the standing students.
"Queue up. I'll give you five strokes each on your hand," he said, and some of the seated students laughed.
One after the other, the students collected their strokes, even if some caused trouble before receiving them.
When it reached the turn of a girl about my height, John shouted, "She is not feeling fine; she just came back from the hospital!"
Wow, I didn't know he could speak more than four words in a sentence.
"Okay, I will pardon her, but she will sweep the class for two days every morning," Mr Kolawole said, and John sighed in relief.
I looked at the girl and wondered who she was to John.
She wasn't even that pretty, to be sincere, so why?
Gosh, what was I thinking? I barely knew John, so why was I thinking like this?
"Sir, that is unfair," the class went into uproar.
I turned to look at John and thought I should ask, "Who is she to you?"
He turned to look at me, curious as to why I had asked the question.