The Soles Of Damini Manor

CHAPTER 4: NICE SHOES. NICE EYES

Kanyin

Simplicity to my left, complexity to my right, none of these students are capable of finding a balance when accessorizing their uniforms. They either do too much or don't bother. It's exhausting to watch.

They need saving. Thankfully, I'm feeling generous today.

"Hey," I call out to the short dark skinned girl with braided cornrows heading towards me in black Louboutin's. "You, yes you," I say, beckoning for her to join me in front of my white locker. I had one class this morning, humanities, and barely anyone showed up. Any second now, I will be starting my fifth and final class of the day.

The petite girl approaches me with a nervous smile. "Hello," she says, her smile not reaching her eyes.

"Honey, your outfit looks like it needs saving," I say, getting straight to the point, my expression leaving no room for arguments.

The girl's big brown eyes grow wider with surprise before she gives her uniform a quick once over. "I'm so sorry, it's my uniform or wait my cornrows. I knew it. I warned my Mama that they were too old sch-"

"Oh honey, the cornrows are a slay, but your styling is too plain," I say, brushing off her earlier rant. I'm an 'embrace your natural hair' advocate despite my braids, so I mean every word about how nice the small tight braids in straight lines makes her chubby round face glow.

The girl tugs at the ends of her cornrows, worry lines creasing her forehead. "Please, how can I make it better?" she asks, staring into space.

I clap my hands thrice, bringing her attention back to me. "That's what I like to hear," I say, turning to my locker before bringing out a set of gold earrings, ranging from bite-sized studs to bracelet-size hoops.

"Wow," Cornrows says, stunned by just one set of my jewelry.

One set of many.

I reach for her ears, startling her as I remove her tiny gold studs before replacing them with the largest hoops from my set. All the while, the girl is staring, wringing her fingers nervously as I work.

I grab a gold brooch that I had put in my Chanel bag this morning, from its place on the top shelf of my locker. "Here, this butterfly brooch should add a pop of color to your outfit," I advise, throwing her a half-smile.

Cornrows carefully collects the gold brooch, her fingers delicately skimming through the sharp edges of the butterfly wing like she's unsure. "I couldn't, you should wear it. You already look so good, wouldn't this make you look even better?" she asks.

I snap my eyes shut, willing God to give me strength. Children nowadays ask too many questions. Just take a gift and be off with it. Mom said I had to try and give more if I wanted to make it to heaven. Apparently, my attitude isn't getting me there, so I might as well throw a dash of generosity in for good measure. I glance down at my fancy new shoes. They might have had a strange first impression but they wouldn't last a day in the depths of hell.

"I have plenty more. You can have it," I say, smiling brightly as she nods.

I watch her struggle to attach the brooch, and before she can hurt herself in the process, I take it from between her fingers, inching closer, my attention fully focused on the brooch. There's barely any space between us.

"My name is Feyi," Cornrows whispers, her doe eyes narrowing as she awaits a reply.

Just as I finish fixing her brooch and am ready to give her my name, the aura in the hallway changes. It wasn't totally welcoming, with the dark uniforms and snobby-rich kid's vibe, but at least students were speaking. Now it's as if a foggy cloud has settled over the hall, and everyone has suddenly become rigid.