Kora

"How are you handling the fame, Kora?"

On my life, if you asked me this question a million times, my answer was still going to be the same, NOT-TOO-WELL. I'd actually skip the part where I had real issues leaving my house, because of the countless number of people at the front gate, including the press.

Of course everyone wanted a full disclosure on what happened at the GBTS gala, and then they were also at the entrance of NAUN. Thank God for NAUN's security, and zero concern for the press, or members of the public that didn't have any business with her. I also had to take mum's car with the tinted glasses, because that was the only way I knew I could get to school, with less attention. Mum had suggested that I did. She had suggested a lot of things that morning, and coming to school wasn't one of them. After a failed attempt to make me stay back home, she finally gave in. I couldn't just hide in that house all week. I didn't do anything wrong. Why did I have to stop my life for a whole week because something I had no control over happened? Why did I have to pause my life for anyone at all? What was the worse that could happen anyway? So what if Jeremiah and I kissed at the GBTS gala? How was that anyone's business?

I honestly wished those words I told myself were more than enough. Everything was different. The entire school was different. I could barely even walk to my room, without heads turning, and people whispering to themselves about me. I was on every group chat, even my department's, not to talk about the banners and stickers with my picture glued on my room's door, with really horrible names I was being called, Slut, radical bitch, whale, pig, freeloader, opportunist. They X'd my face.

I had spent the entire morning cleaning my door, and taking all the banners down. To add to that, I had to turn off my phone too, because it was blowing up with text messages from people I didn't even know. Threats. Death threats from Oma's fans, and I just didn't want to go through any of that, that morning. I didn't even know how they managed to get my number. I just wanted to eat and ignore everything, and everyone. I wanted to show them that I wasn't running, that I wasn't scared, and that none of what they thought about me meant anything to me. It was only a matter of days before the news got stale anyway, and everyone got back to minding the business that paid them.

Not like the journey to the cafeteria was any better. Even the ladies at the counter that were supposed to monitor the food, kept staring at me, as I served myself, instead of doing their job. The entire cafeteria became so cold and quiet, the moment I tried to walk to one of the empty tables. Not exactly empty, there were two girls sitting on it. It was the table Grace and I loved to sit in.

I exchanged glances with a few of them, and then decided that I didn't have to. The silence really made me uncomfortable, but I walked through it. I could see they were watching me all through the way, whispering among themselves. You could hear the echoes of their tiny whispers. The cafeteria had become so quiet, that if you dropped a fork on the floor, everyone was going to hear it touch the ground with a loud ting sound. I placed my tray on the table, and then took a deep breath.

"It's really her." I raised my head to the girls whispering to themselves in front of me. They shifted uncomfortably, the moment their eyes met mine.

"Let's go sit somewhere else." One of them told the other. They got up from the table in a hurry, and scurried away. My eyes met the next table in front of mine, which was now really visible, now that the two girls had left. There were seniors on that table, and Racheal was one of them. She took her eyes away, immediately she noticed I had caught her staring,  hurrying to put a fork of roasted beef into her mouth. Luke was sitting right beside her. His eyes buried on his food, but it didn't look like his mind was anywhere close to it. He just sat there numb, like he was scared to look up, to look at me, fiddling with his fork. Not like I expected him to say anything. He must have probably felt the same way they all did.

Why did I care what he thought about me anyway? Why did I care what they all thought about me?

I just needed to focus, eat my meal and go. I checked my watch. Where was Grace? Why was she making me eat alone, when she knew just how uncomfortable it was going to be for me? She promised to not leave my side the whole day. I exhaled. Maybe she was just running late, or had something to do. She was going to meet up eventually.

"She has such guts coming to school today, after what she did"

"Look at her acting so clueless and ignorant— "

"She has no idea what is about to happen to her, does she?"

"How can she sit there and act like nothing happened?"

"I feel sorry for her —"

"I'm beginning to hate her guts."

The whispers were getting a bit louder now.

I held my breath for a second, and then drew a deep breath.

I did nothing wrong. I told myself, and then turned to my food. I just had to ignore everyone. I was hearing footsteps approach me, but I couldn't care less. I picked up my fork, and then paused for a second, when I noticed a presence beside me. Not just one, there were about three of them, and then the strong scent of their perfumes. I let out a short frustrated breath, and then dropped my fork slowly. 

Had they graduated from talking behind my back, now to actually approaching me?

I raised my head slowly, and in the most nonchalant way ever. What was it?

My breathing stopped for a second, when my eyes met Oma's. She was standing there, in her perfectly fitted uniform, with a huge frown on her face, folded hands, mild make up, long black weave with a shiny diamond head band on it, and her tie, perfectly knotted. That was as far as I could notice. I couldn't exactly examine her outfit, with the way she had her eyes focused on me, like she was going to slap me.

She slapped me.

And the moment she did, my glasses came off my face instantly, and landed on the table, as I turned my face in response. I could hear a wizzing sound in my right ear, and feel a sharp pain on my cheek too. I could also feel tears welling my eyes, and I was sure I wasn't responsible for it.

"You shameless piece of trash."

I slowly raised my head, following Oma's words.
Hold it in, Kora. Don't retaliate, or say anything, just ignore her and she was going to go away.

I had to give myself a second. A second to breathe. I slowly pulled the strand of my braids from my mouth, focusing my attention on my glasses. I reached for it slowly. The entire cafeteria had their attention on us now, and they were shocked at what had happened. You should have seen all the noise they were making.

I tried to clean off the salad cream on my glasses, just so I could put it back on. Now I wished I had worn my contact lenses instead. With a very poor eyesight like mine, and with all the crazies happening around me, my contacts should have been perfect, instead of my rectangular annoying glasses. I cleaned it quickly, and put it back on. I needed them, to see clearly.

I relaxed in my chair. I took a deep breath, hoping my nerves were calm enough now.

"If you want to talk," I started, not even bothering to look at Oma. "I'm ready to talk. You honestly don't have to do any of this."

Oma scoffed.

"I'm not your enemy."

She hit the table hard, that it almost made a lot of people jump from their seats, and then pulled her hand from the table slowly, exposing a tiny black card, with a white skull on it, cancelled in red.

It was the black card.

I scoffed. What was it? Was she really giving me a black card now?

"Pick it up." She ordered. I slowly raised my head to look at her, staring at her for a second, a huge frown finding it's way to my face. Did she really think that I was going to pick up that card? To pick up a black card, when I knew what was going to happen right after it? When I knew it was going to place a target on my back for the whole school?

"What?" One of her friends asked me. "You're not going to do it?"

I exhaled, and then turned back to my food. I picked up my fork again. I was honestly getting really irritated, and not in the mood.

"Did she just ignore Oma?" The crowd asked themselves. "Oh my gosh, she's really brave."

I stuffed my mouth with food, because that was the only way I knew I could keep my anger in check, to distract myself from what was going on.

"Did she just ignore us?" Another of Oma's friends asked whoever it was she was asking. "What is her problem?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Oma asked me again.

I kept on ignoring her, stuffing my mouth with more food, and swallowing all at once. I was eating hurriedly.

"I'm talking to you!" Oma yelled at the top of her lungs, pushing my food from the table with one swipe of her hands, until everything on the table came crashing to the ground. She picked up my cup of orange juice, and then splashed it on my face. I gasped with the crowd. I could feel the cold juice in my nose.  I looked down at my uniform, it was ruined. I turned back to Oma, the frown on my face worsening.

"Who do you think you're glaring at?" One of her friends pushed my head back hard, with one of her fingers. "Who do you think you are to glare at us like that?" She pushed my head again. "Who are you?!" She pushed my head again.

Weren't they going to stop? I was really trying to hold myself back, but they were really pushing me. I glared harder at them, and then exhaled. Maybe it was going to be okay if I just stood up and left. That was exactly what I was going to do. I made a move to stand up, but the other one pushed me back to where I had started.

"Pick the card." Oma repeated. "Now!" She yelled at me.

Pick the card, pick the card, pick the card!

I turned back to the table immediately, and then picked the card.

So what? What was going to happen if I did? Just who did they think they were trying to oppress? I wasn't scared of them, even though I knew I should be. I raised the card so they could see it, and then I squeezed the card, and then threw it to the ground, giving such a fierce attitude.

Oma scoffed. She couldn't believe it. She reached for my braids, pulling it tightly. I tried to stop her, I tried to fight it out with her, but her friends kept on hitting me from the sides. They were now ganging up on me, and it was getting really hard to take them all at once. They pushed me from my chair, and I fell to the ground with a thud. I had a scratch on my face now, from one of their really sharp finger nails, and I could feel a bruise on one of my sides. I tried to stand up, but my sides were hurting.

"Pick her up." Oma ordered her friends.

They walked to me quickly. I couldn't fight them off, no matter how I tried. A lot of people now were up from their seats, and surrounding my table, with their phones out, and their cameras recording. I watched Oma walk to me slowly, while her friends held on tightly to both my arms. She squatted in front of me, and grabbed me by my jaw. She raised my head to her, her hold on my jaw was so tight. Too tight.

"You just got on my list of people I'd like to destroy." She told me. "I don't care who you are, or what makes you think you can ruin my life, I don't care what you think you mean to Jeremiah, but Jeremiah is my fiancé. The man I'm going to get married to. You must be really insane if you'd ever think he's going to leave me for a nobody like you. What happened yesterday was nothing but a mistake, you are nothing, and no one compared to me, and I'm going to make you wish you had never tried to come in between me and my man in the first place. I don't care what ever relationship it is you two have, but I'm going to ruin it, and then ruin you, because Jeremiah is mine, and no one else's. Do you understand?"

She asked me. I scoffed. I was so disgusted. She pulled her hand away from my face, and then stood up quickly. Her friends joined her too. I tried to catch my breath, I was getting red eyed already. I was so embarrassed, and all those people wouldn't stop taking pictures. I bowed my head quickly, like it was going to stop the shame I felt.

"Racheal, aren't you going to stand up for her?" I heard someone say to Racheal from the other table. I paused for a minute "I heard she's your step sister."

"Step-" Racheal scoffed "She's not my step sister."

"Are you going to deny her now?" The other girl asked. "You both came to the gala together. I saw you."

"Does that mean she's my step sister, or that she lives with us?" Racheal snapped at her. "I said I don't know her."

"Easy." a boy cut in. "It's not that deep."

Racheal dropped her fork quickly. I couldn't really turn, but I knew Racheal too well to know she was already irritated.

"You just want to annoy me." I heard a screeching sound, like she had pushed her chair back. Her friends were calling her back, but it seemed like she was walking away. I sniffed quickly, and raised my head again. Everyone started to take their phones down slowly. I managed to get up. I wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me in that state. I walked to the table, and picked up my glasses.

I walked away.