~TRAPPED°

~CHAPTER 32°

A/N: 

Welp! Hiiiii.

Before we read on, I just want to put it out there that updates will come when they come. I don't have the luxury to update as I'd like to, and I hope y'all understand. I've been writing his current chapter for like two months now, and the word count seff is God abeg. 

That said, let's dive in. 

~32 - EVEN CLOSER°

~Toyo

Surprisingly, Austin and I spoke a lot yesterday. He seemed really interested in the project, I could almost not believe it was THE AUSTIN CHIKA.

Apparently, if his grades didn't improve to a C at least, he wouldn't be graduating. So, he needed to get as much marks as possible in all subjects, especially practicals and projects like these—that was what he told me.

Did I believe him? Maybe.

"Good morning, ma." I greeted my mother as I took my seat at the dining table, and she barely spared me a glance before averting her gaze from me back to her plate of toasts, sausages and eggs.

Well, nothing new.

Breakfast went on silently, safe from the sound of cutlery scraping against ceramic and the silent-nervous tapping of my feet against the tiles floor.

It was mid November, and it was really cold. So, instead of my blazer, I wore an oversized baggie blue sweater that the school provides us, with thigh high boots. And it was still freezing cold! I would have turned off the air conditioning, but my mother would cut of my fingers. So I maintained composure, rubbing my palms together at intervals for warmth.

I honestly never fancied the harmattan season. The dryness of the air irked me a lot, the stupid fog, and the fact that I always lost my voice to the harmattan.

"How's school been?" Her sharp Hausa accented voice pierced through the silence, causing me to look up from my food with the speed of light.

Was she talking to me?

"I believe your ears are functioning properly," she said again without looking up from her plate, slicing her sausages into perfect circles.

"Uhm...It has been good." I answered, and she hummed in response, letting the uncomfortable silence expend the atmosphere.

I finished my food, gathered my belonging and left for school.

The drive to school was the usual on Monday mornings; the hectic traffic, the blaring horns of vehicles, people trying to get to their various places of work, students in their school uniforms also trying to get to school through different means of road transportation, traders by the road side calling out to people to buy their goods, and hawkers maneuvering their way through the fleet of cars that littered the road, trying to call the attention of drivers and passengers in vehicles.

The traffic lights kept flickering between red and yellow, adamantly refusing to turn green.

Damn Lagos.

I took a glance at my wristwatch and it was already 7:50. I let out a groan of frustration. Miraculously on cue, the lights turned green, and vehicles began to move again.