•SALOME ALAN•

Micheal Jackson.

I'm certain at least forty-five percent of the world's population still listen, not only listen but enjoy his music. And well, I am part of the forty-five. His music seems to understand me in a way I find impressive, the reason why I can't go a day without hearing his voice spill through my music box or ear pods every morning.

I wave my perfectly ironed brown blazer over my shoulders, standing in front of the mirror and humming to the soft music flowing out of the music box on the vanity table.

'You are not alone' by Micheal Jackson.

It's another Monday of going to Victoria High and the thought of being in a classroom filled with lively people coupled with some annoying teachers makes me exhale loudly.

I tune down the volume of the pink music box, preparing to head downstairs to make breakfast only to hear familiar voices. My face automatically stretches in a smile as I pick up my rucksack and some books lying around before walking out the door, slamming it with no atom of pity.

"Aunt Jenny!" I yell, storming down the stairs, totally neglecting the presence of my Dad who's grinning from ear to ear. He practically knows how my mood flies to cloud nine anytime his sister visits.

"Salome..." She drawls, spreading her arms wide while I jump on her body, my face deep in her shoulders. "Oh my god, I've missed my baby girl," Aunt Jenny mutters, loud enough for me to hear.

"Looks like Jenny is..." My Dad begins to say but trust me shutting him up with a bear daughter hug. I quickly leave Aunt Jenny and wrap my hand around his waist.

"You know I love you too, Dad." I interrupt, bathing my lashes with a wide smile playing on my lips. He's simply jealous because as long as Jenny is around, I won't feel his absence.

"Yes...I know that darling, I love you too." He says, taking a sip from whatever herbal mixture he enjoys. "You look beautiful this morning by the way."

"Me?" I ask sharply, withdrawing my body from his and checking myself out. Just a pair of Victoria school uniforms can't do justice to how adoring I am but hey, I still look beautiful. "And I must say, you aren't wrong Dad, thanks." I accept his compliment with a small bow, Aunt Jenny laughing and shaking her head at my gesture.

"So Dad, I was thinking maybe-"

"Oh yes, we're having bread and fried egg for breakfast." He interrupts, moving towards the dining. My mouth hung open at my incomplete sentence and a small frown formed on my face after realizing what my Dad had just done.

"I wasn't going to ask for money, Dad," I state purely, taking my seat opposite him with my eyes on the empty plate in front of me. He most of the time acts this way when I ask for money, or money...or money.

Yeah, Spoilt brat!

My subconscious reminds me and I let out a wide smile as to how I act to always get what I want.

"See what I'm saying." My Dad who has been watching my facial looks, says while Jenny just rolls her eyes, pouring the well-beaten eggs into the pan before turning to face us.

I only shrug, expecting my Dad to talk on. Not when my phone makes a big sound and I peep to see the message. Excitingly, I stretch to the edge and pick up my phone, texting back my favorite person.

"Now she has a boyfriend". I heard and the loudest laugh that escapes my lips isn't to be called for. I mean... even if I do, I will not text him while these two adults who are currently trying to peep at my screen are present.

"It's Zara..." I draw, waving the phone to my Dad then Jenny who is still looking at me skeptically, hands Akimbo.

She then raises her shoulders in a shrug, temporarily believing, and brings down the fried eggs I've been waiting for. Placing it in front of Dad first, I swallow, preparing to dig in.

"Is she coming over?" He asks, taking out loaves of bread from the polythene and I look down at my phone again.

"Nope, I'll meet her down the road," I answer with my eyes still on the phone. My father knows Zara more than any of my friends so he doesn't bother much when it's about her. "Dad...so you were saying..."

"I'll send you something small." Aunt Jenny says with a wink, fully understanding where I'm going. See why I love her.

I rest my hand on the table, popping my chin right on it, an appreciative smile on my lips. "Thank you so much, Aunt Jenny," I whisper then take a glance at my Dad who just Puffs out air, not saying a word.

Aunt Jenny settles beside me, arranging her breakfast to take a quick video of her glamorous meal. A snicker flows out as I watch her push the milk jar away and replace it with the mini flower vase. She glances around for her cell phone, stretches over, and starts taking pictures from different angles. I wish I had such time.

"Influencer lifestyle is not for me." I shake my head in my words while Jenny just pushes her mouth upwards, mimicking me. I throw my head back in laughter. "I'm serious...I mean, do I have to take perfect pictures and videos in everything I do?"

Jenny hums, now strolling through her page, uploading the pictures to her feed. "Well...that explains this..." She turns her phone to my face and I have to blink multiple times to the sharp lightening beaming from her phone.

Woah... She's not lying, I must say. Her followers are blasting her DM with how elaborate her breakfast looks and how they would love to have the same. Weirdly admirable.

"I am not moved." I shrug, taking some bread into my mouth and adding egg to it. Don't question my method.

Jenny rolls her eyes, places her phone by her side, and finally starts eating.

"If only you know how many people would drool to have them sitting beside me, eating." She says, adding emphasis on her last word.

The creaking sound of the chair makes me realize my Dad is done eating. He lets out a relaxed sigh and looks up at me.

"I have a date tonight." He enunciates, going over to dump his plates. My mouth forms an 'o' and he just giggles, resting his rear on the cabinet. "With Maria."

"What?" I voice out before I can stop myself, a deep frown following. I knew it would gradually lead to this and the idea made me cringe. Out of all the ladies in the world, he decides to have dinner with Maria, his business partner who is also, our next-door neighbor. Maria just moved in last week and I'm sure it's because she just wants to stay glued to my Dad and be all over him.

Yes, she's pretty and all, don't get me wrong. I think she even seduced him with her big butt and thin voice. The way she talks just makes me want to slam her face to the door and-

"Maria is coming over for dinner, Salome." His voice tears through my thoughts and I swallow hard, waiting for him to say he's joking. That, that Lady is not coming in here.

Aunt Jenny also has that look on her face. That look says she doesn't like the fact that her brother is bringing in Maria. I am very sure the Maria lady is dancing in her bedroom right now.

"Tell me you're joking, Joshua." Aunt Jenny utters after an awkward silence which my Dad, didn't care about.

He picks up his keys from the nearby high stool, and adjusts his sleeves with his facial look screaming, 'You heard me well.'

"No, no, no." I get up from the chair, my mood dropping dangerously to that of anger. I know he is an adult and knows what he wants but I don't want her. Maria. I can't do that to my Mom. "You know I don't like her from day one My voice is low and all of a sudden shaky.

Dad takes in a deep breath, a slow head shake following, signifying there is nothing I can do to change that.

"You won't understand." That is all he says. I nod, fighting back the tears swelling in my eyes.

Aunt Jenny stared at me with furrowed brows and then at him. "We need to talk." She tells him and he walks towards the balcony without saying anything, Jenny follows behind.

I quickly wipe my eyes with my hand, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from dropping more. "I... it's okay, Dad." I call and he looks at me over his shoulders, "You can...do what you want, I guess I truly don't understand." With that, I pick up my phone, wave my bag pack over my shoulders, and walk towards the door.

"Wait, I'll take you-"

I turn at the voice of my Aunty, forcing out a smile with a pain-filled heart. "It's okay... I'll meet Zara."

She nods, pressing her lips together. It has always been me and my Dad in situations like this and now, Jenny knows about it. Good enough.

"I'll get..going," I whisper, pulling the door open, only to see the title of the mood standing in front of me, knuckle folded in an attempt to knock.

Now she's making it obvious. Nice.

Her eyes dart into the house and back to me, a wide smile on her glossy lips. "Salome...hey." She says in her thin voice and I take a moment to scan her outfit. She appeared in a long-sleeved black turtle neck top and a pair of high-waist white jeans which makes her broad hips look intimidating. Her hair is jellied in a sleek ponytail, well-laid edges outlining her small face with her multiple ear piercings shining in the morning sun.

Maria pursed her lips together, waiting for me to respond but instead, I drew the door wide open and walked out, leaving her to either go back to her apartment or, just go back.

The door jams softly, making me stop in my tracks to take a look and yes, she walked in. Holding the straps of my bag tighter, I walk faster, suddenly bearing in mind that Zara would be waiting for me by now. Without a second thought, I pull out my ear pods, sync it to my phone, and play the antidote to my damaged mood.

The Garden Estate. That's what this place is called and no doubt, the place suits the title perfectly. There are combinations of different types of flowers, hanging and decorated at every angle, leaving only the main road for vehicles. I reside in the first lane while Zara stays in the third.

Long braided hair, black pleated skirt, brown blazer jacket, long white socks, extremely high sneakers. I do not need more info to tell me it's Zara standing in front of her house, face illuminating eerie blue with how close her phone is. An unknown smile comes out and I feel my body ticking with utmost positivity.

"Zara!" I call after admiring my second half. She didn't even notice me standing a few feet away. "What are you looking at so attentively?" I ask and she chuckles, spreading her arms and walking down the stairs to meet me.

"My baby..." Zara folds her arms around my neck, pressing me into her soft body, a causal thing she does and my smile widens.

"What's up with the whole smiles?" I ask after she retreats herself from me. This mood of Zara's is madly questionable. She sighs, picks up her backpack from the corner, and starts walking ahead, her smile still intact. "I'm suspecting you, Zara," I yell and she turns to me, grinning.

"I have something to show you." She states and winks then presses her lips together and the urge to hear whatever she has to say escalates.

"What is it, what is it?" I jog to her side, peeping to see what she's staring at on her cell phone. We are currently walking to the bus stop which is just a few steps ahead. Thankfully.

"So..." Zara pressed her lips to stop herself from smiling while I folded my arms, brows arched upwards. "It's not something big though..." She draws, typing what I can't decipher.

Luckily, a bus came and stopped right in front of us. Rolling my eyes with a sigh, I pull distracted Zara with me onto the bus. I won't be surprised if she didn't notice even over the continuous honk.

"Let's sit over there". I suggest, my eyes scanning for an empty seat close to the window. I look over my shoulders to see my best friend, already seated elsewhere. I swallow, going over to sit beside her, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Even with that, Zara is still on her phone, not saying what she said she wants to. I open my rucksack in frustration, pull out my phone, turn on my ear pods, and face the other side, humming to the strings of sound buzzing out from it.

Feeling someone nudging me with their elbow, I reluctantly turn. "Are you ready to tell me?" I ask Zara and she chuckles, showing me her screen so close to my face that I have to wince. I glance at her and then back to the phone to see the male picture displayed on it. "Your boyfriend?"

"What? No..." She shakes her head and taps on the phone for like, three seconds and turns it back to me. "Take a second look."

What... in the world...

I take my eyes to the image again, my face contouring in a frown while trying to decode it properly. It most definitely didn't take me one second to jerk the phone from my best friend with wide eyes to zoom the picture to be sure of what I was seeing.

My favorite Latifah West is standing with who looks like her son in a hoodie with a face mask, making it impossible to see his face. I look up at Zara and she nods rapidly like she's hearing my thought and I slap my palm over my mouth to prevent myself from screaming. Am I dreaming? How in the world did Zara find a sneak pic of the only son of Latifah West?

"Yep, I know what you're thinking." Zara nudges me again, looking at the picture while I glance at her, a smirk raising at the corner of my lips. "You don't know want to know how deep I searched, just to see that." She completed with raised brows.

"But, how..did you-"

"It wasn't so hard though," She adjusted in her seat, taking her phone back from me. "I think Latifah's son isn't a social media kinda guy because I couldn't find his page."

"Yeah, he doesn't, I've checked that for like a billion times." I quickly add and Zara makes a face, a face she always makes whenever I'm about to blab about Latifah which I don't mind. Anywhere.

Latifah is an entrepreneur. Recently, she started a brand where she makes her very own lip liner, lipsticks, and anything concerning lips in general. And well, I'm proud to say I've been following her since she hit fifty thousand followers and now she is at five million.

My role model in all ways.

There was a time when rumor had it that she had a son but I didn't believe it until now...

"What's his name?" I ask, my face glowing in all attention but the stop of the bus draws my knowledge that we are already at school.

We get up in an instant and walk down, some other Victoria High School students following.

"I don't know that, Salome," Zara finally answers, tugging her phone by the side of her bag before adjusting the straps. "But at least, you got a glimpse."

My body falls in a deep breath, a wide smile following. "Yeah... send the picture to me," I reveal in one breath. Zara puffs out air and turns her face else like I didn't just talk to her.

"And why should I do that?" She asks in a proud-like voice. I link my arms into hers, bathing my lashes and she giggles, holding me tighter.

"I'll send it later."

We are now entering the luxurious school gate where the best of the best students attend. I'm not bragging. The competition in this school is way higher than the other schools around this area and I concur. Victoria High School is filled with those kinds of students who always have to remind the teacher to either give take-home assignments or remind the teacher of the last assignment. It is that annoying.

"Wait... I think we were given an assignment in Literature," I pull my bag pack to the side, my brows knitted in concentration. Zara also stops, staring at me. Yes, we were not in the same class so she had the guts not to reply to me.

"Did you do it?" She asks as she gives way for a bunch of laughing girls to pass by while I flip through the pages, my heart beating faster without my consent.

"Yes, I think..." I drawl, still going through my most hated subject. "Oh... thank goodness." I throw my head back in pure happiness. "We weren't given any."

Zara shakes her head in disappointment as I stuff the book back. "You better get rid of your hatred for your teacher, fast."

I shoot her a look, "Mr Alex? Hell no!"

•••

"That's all for today." My literature teacher, finally ends, gathering up his large textbooks from the desk.

He has been speaking in a poem. A poem which I can't even remember the title. My hatred for the subject is that bad. Mr Alex came for his IT whatever so he probably won't last more than four months. Ever since he came, all the female students and teachers have been drooling all over him like flies. He's cute, yes, tall and muscular, yes. But he doesn't fantasize about me in any way. Maybe for the fact that he teaches Literature, the only subject I find boring.

Either he asks what his last lesson was about to decode a certain poem or read a

"Salome!"

I jerk my head front, blinking my eyes as I feel the eyes of the whole class staring at me, including my teacher. I swallow, fidgeting with my fingers.

"Where is your assignment?" He asks, eyes peering right at me and I rub my forehead, trying to remember the last time we had literature.

"I..we weren't given any," I reply in a low voice, looking down and I hear Mr Alex let out a loud sigh.

"Fabiola, where's your note?" He turns to the class rep, a girl who thinks she knows it all. She quickly stretches her note to him, smiling sheepishly like she is about to be awarded.

"Here, sir."

Mr. Alex scans through, his lips pursed together while his bulging biceps move in the same rhythm. He always has this intimidating look and mostly acts serious like it's his-

"Here." He snaps the book right on my desk and I shake at the sudden movement. "Look at this."

Oh... Yes. He did give an assignment. Where in the world was I?

I look up at him and down at the book, unable to utter a word. Mr Alex snatches the book back and returns it to Fabiola, frowning.

"I want to see yours before the end of school hours." With that, he walks out and I finally glance up to see him leave. Great. Another humiliation. Do I have to go through this anytime he walks in?

Sighing heavily, I drag out the enormous literature textbook to copy and paste whatever is written on my note, only to notice the class rep standing in front of me.

I look up at her. "What do you want?"

She pulls out her hands from the skirt pocket and taps on a bunch of well-arranged notes. "I want to submit the notes now, where's yours?"

I know very well she's doing this to embarrass me more but I won't give her a slight chance. I glance around the class, some people talking in groups and others tapping away their cellphones. "Alright, you can go. I'll turn in mine later."

She scoffs, staring at how I am focused on writing mine. If anything, she should know I don't like interacting with her and better still, submit the notes and drool over the self-obsessed teacher as much as she wants.

"Why are you smiling? Not like you're getting it right." She corrects, chuckling and I am forced to look at her again. What is her business anyway?

"Thank you, Fabiola. I'll submit the nonsense I'm writing and I don't mind getting a zero." I pull out in a breath and she hiss, pack the notes, and head out of class.

What indolence...

It's finally lunch time and the cafeteria would be filled with crowdy nosily students. I stuff the thick books into my desk, crack my knuckles, and stretch my legs. I've been writing my assignment which is as long as a skyscraper. The class is now empty and the urge to take a quick nap inks me.

"Salome." A rather familiar voice call. Thank God I haven't fallen asleep because Zara would drag me out with her. "What are you doing all alone?"

She sat on the desk, wiggling her legs happily.

"You should have seen how Mr. Alex humiliated me earlier", I report, turning my whole feature to face her.

Zara rolls her eyes, clapping her hands on her thighs. "Honestly Salome, I wonder how you always have one complaint or the other about the most loved teacher. I mean, he's quite attractive and-"

"Stop it, Zara" I interrupt, frowning. Does this girl even understand what I'm saying? He hates me. "I don't care about that."

She raises her hand and I watch her place it on my forehead, apparently checking my temperature and I slap her hand off. "I'm not sick."

She laughs, pulling out her phone. "I'm not saying you're sick. Maybe you're just...I think you don't like him because he teaches literature" she mutters with a shrug.

"Well..."

My phone dings and I keep my phone to retrieve it. Opening the new notification on WhatsApp, I glance at Zara and she smirks, pushing her mouth forward for me to check what she sent.

"If that's the person you want to drool over, you've got it".

I click on the picture she sent, a broad smile on my lips as I discover it is that of Latifah and her masked son. "I wouldn't mind drooling... over him", I return with rolled eyes.

With immediate effect, I tap on the picture, crop out the masked guy, and replace it with my phone wallpaper. Oddly satisfying.

"Is that what you plan to do?" Zara who has been watching me, asks. If she knows how much I love Latifah, she won't question me.

I sigh, taking out certain books for submission. Getting up, I squat to pull up my socks for more fitting. "Yes. And I can't wait to get the full picture". I end with a wink.

Zara shakes her head in frustration while I keep smiling. "I pray you will, one day. Where are you going by the way?"

"To submit this." I wave the notebook to her face and her mouth forms an 'o'. "Yep, the devil told me to submit it before the end of the day, just imagine...not like it's my fault."

Zara bursts into laughter, holding her stomach and I stare at her with a straight face and raised brows.

"Just..just stop it, Salome." She says between laughter, getting up from the desk. "I last time wonder how I manage to keep up with your goofy ass."

She ain't lying thought, I can be goofy once in a while. "And I wonder how I at times, keep up with your.." I drawl, walking backward out of class.
If I utter my last word close to her, she'll smack me.

"Why are you walking away?" Zara notices my witty actions and tails behind me quickly.

Levels of laughter escape my lips as I walk faster into the corridor. "NOTHING!" I yell, during front in a jiff and bumping into someone right after. I immediately step back, slowly looking up at my furrowed brows and tilted head.

Nice one, Salome.

"I..sorry, I didn't mean to-" I stammer, blinking fast as I reduce my gaze from his eyes. I press my lips together since I can't seem to make a simple sentence, excepting him to say something but instead, he inaudibly swallows and walks away. My eyes did the justice of staring at his tall retreating figure, wondering how I'd not seen someone looking that... Innocent.

And handsome.

"Caught you!" Zara snaps as she grabs my arm, startling me. I turn back to her and it's like she already seems to get what happened. "What? Did he scare you or something?"

I bite my lower lip, shaking my head and she continues.

"Better. He's weird though, I wouldn't lie". She links her hand to mine as we walk down the hallway, passing by kids in our grade. "He transferred to our school recently and unfortunately lands in my class."

I shoot her a look of disregard and she shrugs, not attempting to change her words.

"It's because he's not in your class that's why you don't get it." Zara talks on, now gesticulating with her fingers. "He doesn't talk, he hardly smiles, he barely listens in class and I don't even know his name."

We stroll down the stairs and the staffroom comes into view. I exhale calmly, clasping the book to my chest.

"Probably he just needs some time to get comfortable." I judge in the wisest way possible. I would also act that way if I'm new but the look on his face is that which I can't cut through. It was a look of the plainest spiced with an 'I don't care' temperature.

Zara closed her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. "Salome has been all lovey-dovey again.." She sings.

"All is that, we can't tell until..you talk to him."

"Me? Talk to who?" She stops as we stand in front of the staffroom. "Just go and submit your note and meet me here."

"Then we'd go get some snacks..." I draw, smiling like a child as I push the transparent door open. The main reason why I despise coming in here is that that's when the teachers realize they have one or two errands to run or things to buy and end up telling any student who walks in.

Greedy teachers.

I am greeted with the scent of textbooks occupied neatly on every teacher's desk, coupled with a computer or laptop. A photocopy machine and waste bin are also placed at the corner. I scan through the busy teachers, silently praying none would flash me a smile and send me anything.

A satisfying sigh leaves me as I finally see my literature teacher at the far end of the room. He is so focused on whatever he's typing on his laptop that he doesn't realize me now standing by his side, instead feeding me with his manly scent.

Come on, I'm not that tiny.

"Good afternoon sir." I greeted timidly, hoping he'd hear me. Thankfully, he raises his head and I smile, gesturing to the notebook in my hands. "I came to submit my note."

"There." He states, eyeing the side of the white desk for me to keep it and I do so without a word, not wishing to spend up to a minute with this grump.

I nod with pursed lips, inwardly feeling utmost freedom as I turn to leave.

"Come back here." His voice prompts me to stop and turn back, only to see him flipping through my note with zero excitement. I gulp, moving closer to read what I wrote. "You're too close, move back."

Someone tell this piglet that my patience doesn't last for too long.

Seriously? He's not even happy I attempted to write something. He glances at me with a frown and I take two steps back, now straining my neck to see what he's reading. My chest falls when he sighs and picks up a red pen to score whatever it's written so I deviate my eyes to the door.

I don't want to see how harshly he'd score me.

Zara peeps from where she is and I give her a tight smile, showing how unhappy and hungry I am.

"Zara? Oh, nice. Come and distribute this to your class." Mrs Weber says to my best friend and I can imagine how annoyed she would be. That's the reason she didn't want to come in. Zara walks in with a straight face and the middle-aged woman smiles, stretching the books to her. "Grade 12 topaz right?"

Zara nods, collecting them. "Yes, ma." She glances at me once again before walking out and I know she won't come back. She's annoyed, that I can tell.

Taking a deep breath, I take the risk of looking down at my note and my mouth hangs open. Not because of the score but the way Mr. Alex is writing and correcting every word mistake I made. With clenched fists, I keep my eyes on the side of his head and the thought of hitting it to the wall behind bothers me. Is he trying to say I don't know how to write or construct a common sentence?

I suck in my lips, still watching him with furrowed brows while he confidently marries my note with a red pen.

"Here." He jams the note closed and tosses it to me, staring at me with what I'll call, disappointment before resuming what he was doing. Typing.

What the fuck...

I open the book quickly, the hatred in me boiling up to the highest level. Not only did he score me three out of twenty but wrote boldly that I should repeat it.

"You can leave now." Mr Alex says without sparing a glance.

This is pure hatred.

_______________________________________

Chapter one guys😁how did it goooo
I won't say anything cuz this is just the first slide which will slowly unravel by itself😇

Stay tuned guys, this is gonna be moreee than a rollercoaster😋
Don't forget to leave a star and comment♥