Your Man IS NOT My Mate
Avoiding Attention

The first three classes are a drag and finally, lunchtime is ushered in by the sweet sound of the ringing bell. Without wasting another second, my bag is strapped to my back and I’m out through the door, skipping like a little kid... in my head of course.

Halfway down the hall to the cafeteria, a throat is cleared over the intercom before a voice speaks. “Miss. Parker, please report to the Principal’s office now…. I repeat, Miss. Parker, please report to the Principal’s office now, thank you.”

I internally groan, trying hard to conceal any outward expressions that would cause those around me to know it was me being summoned. I play it casually, yet I’m now the only one going against the grain. Everyone else is heading to the cafeteria while I’m heading in the opposite direction, the way of the principal’s office.

I despise mass attention, and it isn't long before I am subjected to the judgmental whisperers, speculating the possible causes for which I may be needed.

I just shake my head, attempting self-exculpation, as I pass each clique watching me with accusatory eyes.

No, it wasn’t me that defamed the wall at the back of the school with graffiti that read Stop Vandalism, nor was it I who switched the English teacher’s Dry Erase Markers for Permanent Markers… though she should have put her English to good use and read, nor was it I who leaked the answer sheet of an exam that, ironically, many still failed… none of these whispered allegations are of my doing, but somehow, I am starting to feel guilty, so eventually, I give up subtly defending myself and just hang my head until I reach the threshold of the dreaded door.

“Ah, Miss. Parker, you are here.” A bright smile shines on the face of a short chubby man with a bald spot in the center of his head, greeting me with an unexpected excitement as soon as I enter. “So glad you could grace me with your presence." Principal Horace beams keeping his smile still in tack as he eagerly waddles over, enthusiastically shaking my hand.

My smile is forced and fake, but it’s not like he’ll notice. He ushers me to the seat in front of his desk.

“Hey, get comfortable. No need to be so uptight” he says tapping my tensed shoulders before doing his duck walk back to his seat. “I just want to chat.” His smile seems overworked and his mouth slightly trembles, begging for relaxation, but he does a great job at keeping up appearances. “So how are you doing?”

“I…. I am ok.” I reply hesitantly, skeptical of his chirpiness.

“So how are you getting through with your classes?”

My brows dip. Is this some kind of joke or something? If there is one person who should know the overall performance of each student, it is the principal. And sure, it can be argued that there is no way for even the most brilliant of brains to remember the scores of over 500 students, but you can’t tell me that they wouldn’t at least remember the two most outstanding students- the one who does exceptional and makes the school and each teacher proud, and, me.

“Nothing much has changed.” I quietly answer, slightly ashamed to meet his gaze.

“Don’t worry, I left school with 18 grade 1s, and look at me now.”

Is that his idea of words of comfort? I mean, if with 18 subjects he landed such a job, then what hope is there for me?

Anyway, my eyes flick to the clock and about 10 minutes have already passed and the conversation has still gone nowhere.

“Sir… is there something you wanted me for?” He leans the weight of his beer belly on the desk, straining his limbs to stretch over to playfully pull my cheeks with his stubby digits. “You know you are such a cutie pie, don’t you?”

Ugh! “Uncle, just tell me what you want so I could leave.” My tone slightly loses its cool, and he seems to have gotten the point as he slumps back into his seat with a sigh, the smile vanishing instantly.

“Ok, fine.” He clasps his hand over the table as if he’s about to make a business deal. “I need you to talk to Mary for me.”

“She’s your sister, you talk to her.”

“But she’s your mother…” he practically whines. "and the basketball team really needs a sponsor and you know your mom won’t hesitate to help you."

“But I’m not even part of the team.”

“Oh yeah, about that, you have been voted in as the water girl for the team.”

My eyes became like Popeye on spinach. “You what?”

“See it as extra credits… and we both know you could do what that.” His tone is calm, but I can’t help but feel subtly attacked. I couldn’t believe it, how could my uncle do me like this?

“So, are you going to talk to Mary for me?" He pleads. " Pretty please, my favorite niece.”

“I am your only niece,” I mutter under my breath, wanting nothing more than to roll my eyes, but I wasn’t that kind of bold or rude.

He raises his brows expectantly. “So…?”

“Fine.” I exhale, releasing my rising frustration.

A clap echoes within the confines of the room as his face glows with a renewed joy. “Thank you so much” he digs into his pocket, pulling out a USD 20. “Go buy yourself something to eat.” he beams, waving his hand in satisfied dismissal.

I get up to leave, sighing, not because of the amount of money; I definitely count myself lucky because his usual favor fee was USD 10 but the sigh was more for the fact that he actually infringed on about 30 minutes of my hour lunch for a request that could have taken 5 minutes.

I quickly make my exit before he can hit me with the 'oh, and another thing...' phrase that pulls you back into an ended discussion.

The hallway is relatively empty, which means they are fewer eyes following me as I make my way from the principal's office to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria, in contrast to the hallway, is crowded and the chatter, far above whisper levels, but I quietly slip through the ajar door, making my way along the outskirts of its outline, to the far back corner, determined to avoid the limelight.

"Hey, cupcake." A familiar voice calls out.

My heart flutters, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips until it hits me like a ton of bricks; the room has gone quiet... too quiet, it's like you can hear a pin drop and suddenly, I'm afraid to look around, too afraid to confront the eyes of the staring throng.

Play it cool Liyah Lee, play it cool. I exhale, keeping my head bowed as I walk to the lonely tables in the back. Perhaps the attention will all blow over soon.

But how very wrong was I? The bench shakes and I'm forced to lift my gaze to see the cause; three guys sit in front of me, grinning at me like idiots, then the bench shakes again and this time I look over to my left, watching as Adrian makes himself comfortable beside me.

He slings a hand over my shoulder, startling me. "Hey, cupcake." He smiles, "mind if we sit with you?"

I feel eyes from everywhere boring into me. He has been here for only two days so far, and already his every move attracts attention, and now, he's making me the center of it all.

Hesitantly, my eyes roam the room as I fidget uncomfortably in my seat.

Suddenly, my wandering is halted and held captive by the same guy from yesterday, dressed in all black. He holds my gaze captive, staring intensely at me from behind the frames of his sunglasses as he sits with some other guy. It kinda feels like an Edward and Bella moment and soon I'm uneasy and briefly look away, but when my eyes return to the spot, he's already gone, and the other guy sits there, alone. My mind is left swirling in confusion. Did I really just hallucinate his presence?