~Adam~

It was on a weekend and I was in the dining room doodling on my sketch pad while mom was in the sitting room with one of her friends, they were talking and the sound of their occasional laughter filled the house. I could make out some of the conversations. The friend was a fabric dealer and she was trying to sell a cord lace to mom.

'Mummy Adam, you should buy this corded lace. You can't get something like this anywhere else in this Lagos.'

I mentally rolled my eyes. These people and always trying to sell their waves. Mom said nothing for a while and I could imagine her running her hands on the fabric, probably to test if it was original.

'This looks common. Are you sure people are not already wearing it?'

The fabric woman gave a very dramatic sigh and I shook my head. People were already wearing it, there was no doubt about that.

'This fabric? Lai Lai. In this Lagos? It is just not possible. I can vouch for you that I'm the only dealer that has it. And you just imagine wearing it and accompanying your husband to one of those Lagos parties.'

I paused for a while. I knew mom might pretend to think about not buying it but the textile woman already worked her trick. Mom would do anything to please dad. Dad loved to show mom off. He loved to show her delicate ego-oyinbo skin, he liked to flaunt her delicate and surreal beauty. He especially loved it whenever she dressed glamorously so mom was going to buy the lace.

'You know my husband doesn't fancy all the colors. They're too shiny and it looks razz.'

There was an edge to her voice when she spoke, a smile, a small coy tone she use any time she talks about her husband to her friends.

A coy tone suggests that he's the best husband.

The same husband that slapped you just this morning for taking too long to serve his breakfast.

I stood up suddenly and the chair I was sitting on pushed back, the metal legs making a crackling sound with the floor. Mom was in the dining in less than a second.

'Korede, what was that? Are you alright?'

Of course, I'm alright. I'm very alright.

I nodded and walked past her to climb the stairs. I needed to go to my room. To do something, to do anything to block the memories of her sound his palm made when it connected to her cheeks. I was not supposed to hear. I was not supposed to know. He never hit mom if I was there. When he slapped her this morning, he did not know I was already climbing down the stairs.

I got to my room and I locked the door behind me. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I brought it out. It was Charles again. I rolled my eyes before picking it up.

'Coz, how far na? You finally picked up after two years. Did I offend you?'

I winched at his fake American accent. It always turned me off but it did the trick he wanted. The girls were always attracted to him by it. Well, according to him sha.

'Nah, I was busy.'

He chuckled.

'You were busy for two weeks straight? Come on, coz, look for a more suitable excuse.'

I said nothing and we did a battle of silence for a little while before he spoke again.

'One of my guys is holding a party next weekend. Are you up for it?'

'Nah'

'Haba, you did not even think twice. It's a cool party and there are girls and drinks and.....'

I did not allow him to finish before I interrupted with a firm No.

'Alright, dude. Do you. Let's link up one these days ehn.'

I did not say anything before I hung up. Charles was like a weed I couldn't get rid of. He's my dad's elder sister's first son. A spoilt brat as dad would call him. He left for the UK to study when he was 17 and he returned two years later with nothing to show for it. Rumors have it that he was rusticated. But Charles never said anything and I asked him nada.

I tried to get rid of the sound of dad's palm connecting with mom's cheeks and the low whimper she made. It's like she was already used to the pain. I opened my WhatsApp to see that Aminah had sent a message that we should not forget her parents' anniversary next weekend. I rolled my eyes as I remembered last Thursday when she brought Kunmi to our table.

When we walked in and we saw her sitting with Kunmi, Sophia scowled and almost turned to look for another table and Kunle immediately stopped her.

'Come on, Sophia. It's probably just a one-day thing. It won't kill you to sit with someone else apart from us for lunch. Just this one.'

'You know how much I respect my personal space. It's already weird as it is that I now have to eat with Aminah, but now someone else?'

'It's not that bad. Aminah is not a stranger and besides, you should learn the act of making friends.'

Kunle replied her and she raised her eyebrows in mock disgust, her eyes dancing with amusement.

'What an intriguing choice of words! Act of making friends. You're not exactly alright.'

Kunle smiled and nudged her with his elbow.

'Let's just go and eat before our food becomes cold.'

And the two of them started walking to where Aminah and Kunmi sat.

I thought Sophia was quiet but the new girl was quietest. It's been two weeks that we resumed and I could count the number of words I've heard she has said. We were both in Art Class because I've seen her in Government and literature classes. Aminah was in commercial class but we still do Government together while Sophia and Kunle were in Science class. Most times, I'd look at her and she'd be staring straight ahead, into oblivion, or find her reading something.

I heard the front door open and I knew the fabric woman was leaving. I knew what would follow. Mom would come to my room to ask me if I was fine if she should make me snacks or anything and the last thing I wanted was to talk to her.

I started setting up the canvas on my balcony in a flash. Mom never disturbed me whenever I was drawing. And I could as well use this opportunity to draw our third week's theme;  Humanity. I finished setting it and I sat on the stool in front of it when she opened the door. My back was to her and I could tell she could see that I was drawing.

She muttered 'Oh, I'll just come back later and she closed the door behind her. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Most times, it hurt so much to look at her face.

I felt a bit of solace when my Staedtler pencil touched the canvas.

                                ********
Mr. Adisa, my virtual art teacher stared at my drawing for a while without saying anything. He was checking mine last because I was the last in line. We were 20 doing Virtual Arts. Less than half were interested in the subject, the more than half only ran away from Music.

'Why does the theme of humanity have to be sad?'

He finally asked and I shrugged, staring at the drawing that was divided into four parts. The first part showed children, malnourished children with big stomachs and thin legs that could barely carry the weight of their big stomachs, they were in a refugee camp and they have clustered around and were very very hungry. The second part showed their happy and eager faces when an NGO arrived with relief materials; food and the likes. The third part showed all of them lying on their ground, dead. And the last part showed the government building a dam on where their camp used to be.

Tolase stood up from where she sat and walked over to where we were. She peered at the drawing closely, as if trying to examine it.

'Nice drawing and it's very brilliant. It has a good plot for a dystopian novel. It's just too good.'

She said and went back to where she was before. Mr. Adisa was still standing beside me.

'Okay, let me rephrase the question, why is it that most of your drawings have a sad touch to them?'

I shrugged again.

'Sad Art can elicit a deep response to them. A sad poem, a sad movie, a sad drawing, always elicits very deep emotions from humans. Isn't that the whole idea of Art?'

He was looking at me as if I had grown two heads, then he patted my shoulders. It was then we heard the bell signifying the end of the class. My mates trudged out and I was the last person to leave. When I was about to step out, Mr. Adisa called my name

'Come back before closing hours. We need to frame your drawing and put it in the gallery.'

I smiled and stepped out.

Who was he kidding when he asked why my drawing had to have a sad touch to it? Why would he ask me to put mine in the gallery and not the others?

It's simply because sad Art elicits better responses.

                            **********
                             ~Kunmi~

It wasn't the first time I'd step into Cresent's music studio but it was the first time I'd take my time to check it out. It was enormous, yeah that's the world for its too-large room that seems to have every single musical instrument.

If only I could play.

It was our music period and one of my classmates, Gabriella, easily the prettiest girl I've ever seen was playing the violin. She looked a little like Sophia but instead of Sophia's wild beauty, hers had some kind of innocence to it. My other classmates were doing one thing or the other. I only sat on a low stool, openly gawking at the interior of the music studio. I sincerely don't think up to ten schools can have this kind of music studio.

I heard the creaking sound of a door being opened behind me and I instinctively turned back because I did not even know there was a door behind me. It was the Senior Junior and his eyes lit up when he saw me.

The door must lead to the recording studio.

I thought to myself and my pulse instantly quickened. I pray I never have a reason, any reason whatsoever to step in there.

'Hey, my friend, you do music too?'

His friend?

He moved closer to me and sat down beside me. I nodded in affirmation and he smiled further.

'Oh Good! Do you play anything? The piano? Violin? Guitar? Anything.'

I shook my head.

'No, I'm only here because I had to choose between Visual Arts and Music and I can't draw nada.'

His lips stretched into a smile.

'I get that every time. Most people here are just here for the fun of it, not because they genuinely have a connection with music or something. They just want to catch fun.'

He said something similar to that first time in our music studio back in my former school. He said 'You have a deep connection to music.'

'But I can teach you if you want to learn. I think of myself as one of the few students here that connect with music.'

If only you know.

I plastered a smile on my face and nodded at him. He left immediately after our teacher arrived and it was only after he left that I realized that he still doesn't know my name.

I was walking back to the class when someone jumped at me from behind and the person put her hand around my shoulders. I turned to see a smiling Aminah.

'Hey, how are you? You were coming from the music studio, right? How was it?'

I smiled at her and her charming personality. She was always smiling and always happy. I wonder how she does it.

'Yes. I'm coming from the music class. And yes, it was fine.'

'Good. But why music? Do you play any instrument?'

I shook my head.

'I'm only doing it for the fun of it.'

She nodded slowly. 'That's why most people are doing it anyway.'

We were almost in our class when one of our classmates walked past us without greeting Aminah. That's odd because I've discovered she was everybody's sweetheart. She was friends with everyone. I looked at the classmate that just walked past us and I discovered he was Alex.

The Alex that I've not heard a single word from him since school resumed.

I thought he was someone like me, someone as quiet as a mouse until I discovered he communicates in sign language.

'That guy, is he mute?'

'Which guy?.... Oh, you mean Alex?'

I nodded.

'Yes, sad, isn't it? That fine boy.'

Wow. I had my intuitions but I just never concluded he was mute. I thought maybe he is tongue-tied or something.

'Wow. But he can hear, right?'

She widened her eyes.

'Obviously. That's the main reason why he is not in a special school.'

We soon entered our class and instead of Aminah going to her seat. She followed me to mine and she sat down beside me. Our next period was mathematics and the teacher was not yet around.

'Hey, Sophia. How're you?'

'Fine.' was Sophia's curt reply to Aminah's greeting and Aminah only smiled, then she leaned closer to whisper in my ears.

'Don't mind Sophia. She's nicer than this.'

I don't think there she was nicer than this because I'd eaten at least four lunches with them after the epic first one. I'd have eaten with them again but Aminah would have none of it. Adam and Kunle were nice but Sophia was always quiet, so quiet but her quietness has a stucked upside to it making her appear so proud.

But you're quiet too.

'So before I forget, I'm inviting you to my parent's anniversary this weekend, on Saturday.'

She's inviting me to a party.

'It's a glamorous party and all my other friends are coming too. It's just in three days and you have to come.'

I nodded slowly. She was invited to a party? I don't attend parties. I don't know how to attend parties.

'I'll send you the address on WhatsApp.'

She said and the mathematics teacher entered almost immediately. She stood up and went back to her seat.

A party?

That was all I thought about throughout the class.

I know I said till Friday but someone told me I still owe them a Monday update so here, we have it.

Adams said Sad Art can elicit the deepest reaction from humans, do you succumb to this school of thought?

I've briefly introduced the three other main characters; Alex, Gabriella, and Tolase. Who noticed them? We'll get to know more about them in the next chapters.

And yeah, Kunmi got invited to a party 💃💃💃💃

What do you think of Sophia?

The juicy part of this book is starting soon and 💃💃💃

Till Friday then.

Don't forget to click on the star button below oo.