The Soles Of Damini Manor

CHAPTER 3: SOLE-SEARCHING AND HAUNTED TALES

Kola

One thing I despise is winning a Call of Duty game and not becoming the MVP, but another thing that really irritates me is gatherings involving more than four people. There is no reason for that many people to be assembled in one location, and it's much worse when the people at the gathering irritate me to my core. I attended middle school on Manhattan's upper east side, and I'm surprised I didn't spend more time in the guidance counselor's office.

I can stand Iroko prep. Dad was right, barely anyone could afford the tuition of Lẹ́kò City's elite private school, so there were approximately sixty students in the entire school, and other students were enrolled in a public school at Lẹ́kò. Sixty students aren't so bad. If my math is correct, there should be approximately twelve people in each class. It's a stretch but a stretch I can manage.

Dad's Bentley reaches a halt at the school's drop-off, surrounded by green-manicured lawns and shrubs. "Okay, kids, have a nice day," he says as I open the backseat door.

"Bye," I tell him, stepping out and balancing the weight of my black backpack on one shoulder.

Kanyin takes her time climbing down from the car, and that's when I notice her shoes. I have never seen these before. She has many shoes, but I would have remembered these ones. Something about them seem old-fashioned for Kanyin. She wouldn't readily spend money on these.

"Where did you get those?" I ask as she skips past me towards the brick-arched doorway at the school entrance.

She turns to me, flipping her long braids before my eyes. I would have required surgery if she had done it any harder. I itch the top of my eyelids rubbing the affected area as she responds.

"Why? So you may donate these as well?" she asks arrogantly, rolling her brown orbs, which makes her look feline with her black winged eyeliner.

I scoff, walking past her. Once today is enough, I'm too exhausted to pick a fight with her again.

With no further exchange of words Kanyin and I go in separate directions, her towards the left wing of the school separated by brown ceramic arches, and me towards the right wing with large windows and cornices. I'm sure we both have no idea where we're headed, simply somewhere far away from each other.

***

"Hello, my name is Timini, but my friends call me Timi," a lanky boy from my calculus class says in a unusually polite voice.

We're in front of the crystal white lockers with about ten students scattered around the narrow hallway. I have succeeded in only listening during class and wearing my headphones whenever I'm alone, but clearly, Timini or Timi doesn't get the memo.

"That's great," I say, placing my textbooks neatly in my locker. As I'm about to shut it, I expect Timi to have left, but he's standing next to me, his bright grin unfaltering.

"Anything else?" I ask, slamming my locker as he has my full attention with his strange behavior.

His lips part before pursing into a tight line, almost as if he's speechless. After a few seconds of our staring, he speaks. "You're a Damini," he states like he's pointing out a piece of information I'm not aware of.

"Yeah," I say softly.

He doesn't say anything after, and I turn around, leaving the boy to gaze at where I was standing.

I feel someone match my pace.

"I have heard so much about the Damini's from my Mama and I really appreciate your Mom and Grandma," Timi says in awe.