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Added: Aug 14
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Two Worlds - Season 1 - Episode 12
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Source: olaxali
The stares didn’t stop when they entered the building. It doubled. The women at the door left eyes on her. “What is wrong with these people? They are all staring.” She peeked at her sides and tried not to meet any of the gazes.

“You’re white. This is one of the things you’ll face. Get used to it. Most haven’t seen a white.”
“But I thought the school was supposed to have a good number of whites. It is under the American curriculum.”

“That isn’t enough to force a man to leave the good schools in his country. There should be few white lecturers, but I doubt if white students, so most of the students haven’t seen a white teenager.” He turned face to her. “You’re actually the first I’m encountering.”

“Really.” She cocked head at him. “Then maybe you should come with me on my next trip to Canada.”

“Sure.” He chuckled.
“Research says Canada is the best place to live in.”

He didn’t argue. An argument would have been beneficial, so they could raise a chat about Canada, and she would do some brag. There must be something to brag about, whatever topic he chose. He probably knew this and decided it was best to keep quiet.
They placed their phones into a pigeon hole and walked in.

Jide told her to ignore the stares, surely because they were staring at him, too. Ignoring them was the only thing she could do; when they’ve seen enough, they would stop staring.

She strode to the pile of short books arranged in a shelf—novels. One had “Marley Andes” as its author. Lauren drew it out and checked its title. “Does the library allow borrowing?”

“You’re not yet a bona fide student. Let’s go see books that concern you.”
She drew out another novel by the same author. “I remember this book. My mom bought this one for me when I was thirteen. The story is vague, but I can tell it’s romance. A boy meets a girl and something happens.”

“You love romance books?”
“Yes, but prefer thrillers.”

Leafing through the pages, she joined the fragments of the plot’s memories slinking into her head, and ignored Jide telling her they should go see business books.
“I remember the storyline.” She tried remembering the princess’

name. “Mareta, that’s her name, Mareta. She was a princess and had a thief imprisoned. Little did she know he was her soulmate. The man…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jide said. “Shelve it and let’s move.”
“The man has red hair. I can still tell that. He was an Indian with a red hair.”
“No more novels. Let’s go see what concerns you. Time is counting.”
She fixed the book on its shelf and motioned for them to continue. The eyes on her had reduced, but some big eyes wouldn’t go away.
They progressed to the business studies section. Many mighty books sat on the shelves, books that seemed impossible to fit into one small head. The big books she had whined about in high school were nothing. She picked a book and skimmed over the first page. There was a lot to learn, a lot to compress in her head for a little semester. After much looking at the books, her stomach began rumbling. The remaining would be looked into when she was bona fide.
“Let’s go eat something,” she told Jide.
He studied his wristwatch and opted to take her home, saying they would buy some snacks on the road and she would eat in the car. She wanted to ask if they would stop by a restaurant or if they would stop one of the street hawkers that mysteriously balanced their trays of snacks on their head. But she didn’t ask. Jide didn’t seem the kind that would eat from those hawked foods that kissed the blazing rays of the sun as the hawkers ran along cars. And if he tried to buy from the hawkers, she would tell him the story of how she saw a hawker use sweaty bare hands to touch the surface of a meat-pie before wrapping it in a cellophane.

They left the library and headed for his Toyota.

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