The New Boy in Homeroom
The heat arrived before the sun properly did, pressing against the rows of blue-and-white uniforms like an uninvited hand. Oba stood with her arms crossed in the third row of SS2 students, sweat already gathering at the nape of her neck despite the hour, and tried to focus on anything other than the static crackling through the assembly ground's ancient loudspeakers.
"...and so, students, let us remember that Kingsway Secondary School does not tolerate lateness, nor does it tolerate the wearing of unauthorized hairstyles," Principal Adeyemi droned, his voice warping in and out through the speakers bolted to the mango tree. A pigeon startled off one of the branches, as if even the birds had grown tired of his Monday sermons.
Oba let the words wash past her. In her head, she was three slides deep into her Further Mathematics presentation, rehearsing the phrase *the derivative represents an instantaneous rate of change* for what felt like the hundredth time. She needed it perfect. Mr. Bankole had already hinted that a strong showing this term could put her name forward for the state mathematics olympiad, and a spot like that meant scholarship money, and scholarship money meant one…
