The Soles Of Damini Manor

CHAPTER 9: I KNOW ABOUT THE SHOES, NO YOU DON'T.

Kola

"Nice work in there," another boy says, giving me a slight tap on the back.

That's the thirty-sixth one today. Since Yvonne and I delivered the Iroko take on Macbeth, I've been congratulated left, right, and center.

The entire school has been abruptly evacuated because someone triggered the sprinklers, leaving us all standing outside Iroko, a cluster of irritated and drenched students waiting for our rides. I glance around, scoping the crowd of students for Kanyin.

Another tap lands on my back. "Thanks," I say, not turning to look at the person.

"You're welcome, but I haven't given you your sandwich yet," Deb says from behind me.

With scrunched brows, I turn to meet her gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"Your Dad sent me a text this morning telling me how much you love spicy chicken sandwiches for lunch at school, so I brought them," she states, dangling the bag with the sandwich in my face.

"Yes, but lunch was thirty minutes ago, Deborah," I say, resting my palm on my forehead.

Her face falls. "I know. I just thought you might want to have it for Linner," she suggests.

"Linner?" I question.

"The snack in between lunch and dinner," she explains, using her hands.

I grab the sandwich from her hold, tearing the Ziploc open before taking a huge bite. The chicken is tender, just the way Mom cooks hers. Then I'm hit with the flavors of the pickles, chili pepper, and tomatoes that balance out the heat. Deb's chicken sandwich gets a solid eight, but she doesn't need to know that.

Her gap teeth reveal themselves. "You're eating it," she shrieks, clapping her hands in excitement.

I roll my eyes. "I didn't have lunch, so I kind of have no choice," I say, my tone muffled from chewing. I'm biting back my words from telling her she cooks as well as Mom. I wouldn't want her to get a big head.

I take the final bite of the sandwich, mostly just the bread left and a tiny piece of lettuce when I notice Deb still hovering behind me.

"Why are you still here?" I ask, my gaze trained on how she fidgets from side to side, perhaps her own way of acting naturally.

She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. "I thought you guys might need an adult to walk you home. That's all," she says, doing a bad job at directly stating how lonely she is.

I dust the bread crumbs from my lips, focusing on her.

"Why did you drop out of college?" I ask, heading straight to the point.

Deb's attention wavers briefly before she speaks. "I had a fiancé...Michael," she pauses. "He had our life planned out. He had graduated and gotten a job in Paris. He encouraged me to drop out of school, and I stupidly did. I loved him so much and poured my heart and soul into our relationship. I didn't have any friends. His friends were mine...he had many female friends, and they didn't like me. His male friends weren't nice either, except Frank. Frank was a sweetheart who respected our relationship and offered to make a speech on our wedding day. That was until Michael's friends ganged against me and made up this silly story about Frank and me meeting up while Michael was in Paris." She stops, fighting back tears that are threatening to escape.