Read Online Telesa - The Covenant Keeper by Lani Wendt Young - Free Book Online
Authors: Lani Wendt Young
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let up. I felt a hand grab hold of my backpack.
“Leila, hang on a minute, please.”
With a sigh, I turned, making sure to compose my features into the blandest expression possible.
“Yes?” my voice was clipped but my emotions were a swirling mass at the sight of him. I was angry. I hated him. But did he have to be so superb to look at?
He stood behind me, with Maleko at his side. Both smiling. Maleko spoke first, as usual.
“Great debate, ay Leila? I bet you don’t get such smooth talkers back where you come from ay?” A puzzled frown had him furrow his brow. “Hey, where DO you come from anyway?”
I didn’t want the Chunk Hunk to know anything about me, but it was impossible to be rude to Maleko – his eager smile and barely restrained enthusiasm for everything almost puppy like. I directed my reply to him.
“The States. Washington D.C.. Well Maryland really.” I self-corrected. And for some unknown reason, I continued, unwilling for them to assume, like Simone had, that I was some teenage delinquent sent here for straightening out. “I’m here for the summer holidays to visit my aunt and uncle.”
The Chunk Hunk smiled warmly at me, an easy smile that flecked his green eyes with gold highlights in the sun. “Great, well welcome to SamCo. I just wanted to say, nice debating. And I hope you didn’t take any of it personally. Are we ok?”
His mention of the debate had a wall of coldness crashing down, slicing off any desire I may have had for a conversation with them. “No. We aren’t. You know SOME of us are products of exactly that exploitative union you referred to. We aren’t all pure Samoans steeped in cultural richness and we happen to be proud of that mixed heritage. I don’t care if this was just a FUN debate, you shouldn’t go around saying stuff like that which can be so derogatory and offensive. Especially for those of us who have mixed parents.” My voice rose several octaves as I neared the end of my spiel and several students around us turned to listen. I didn’t realize I was trembling until I finished and I felt a huge weariness wash over me. What was I doing? Why was I wasting my time and effort arguing with this idiot? What did his opinion matter anyway? “Oh just forget it, you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about. You’re just another pure Samoan steeped in high and mighty cultural richness.”
The Chunk Hunk looked confused and Maleko let out a surprised whoop as I turned away from them and pushed my way through the crowd and out the classroom door. I could hear people laughing as I half ran down the corridor, errant tears threatening to spill. I didn’t stop my rush until I was in the safety of the girls’ bathroom, where I threw cold water on my face. I felt like a fool, a marked woman and all I wanted to do was go home.
Back in the hall and under control of my emotions, I gripped my bag , resolving not to let anyone else get under my skin. You’ve handled worse, Leila I reminded myself. You can do this . So intent on my own private mental pep talk I almost bumped into the graceful Simone preening in the hall. He was alone. Waiting for someone. For me?
“Leila, there you are.”
I was in no mood to be gracious. “What?”
“What was that all about back there?”
“What was what?” deliberately obtuse.
Simone pursed his lips and shook his head at me, one manicured hand on his hip.
“Back there. That debate. Your attack on Daniel.”
I was so used to calling him the Chunk Hunk that I only looked confused.
“Huh? Who?”
“You know – Daniel – the Head Boy? Tall, GQ model beautiful?”
I grimaced and shrugged my shoulders, unwilling to concede I made the connection. Simone continued.
“You got kind of upset back there, don’t you think you were taking things a bit too personal? Don’t you have debates back home?” He looked impatient with my seeming ignorance. “I don’t know why you got so psycho at Daniel for.”
I stared out
“Leila, hang on a minute, please.”
With a sigh, I turned, making sure to compose my features into the blandest expression possible.
“Yes?” my voice was clipped but my emotions were a swirling mass at the sight of him. I was angry. I hated him. But did he have to be so superb to look at?
He stood behind me, with Maleko at his side. Both smiling. Maleko spoke first, as usual.
“Great debate, ay Leila? I bet you don’t get such smooth talkers back where you come from ay?” A puzzled frown had him furrow his brow. “Hey, where DO you come from anyway?”
I didn’t want the Chunk Hunk to know anything about me, but it was impossible to be rude to Maleko – his eager smile and barely restrained enthusiasm for everything almost puppy like. I directed my reply to him.
“The States. Washington D.C.. Well Maryland really.” I self-corrected. And for some unknown reason, I continued, unwilling for them to assume, like Simone had, that I was some teenage delinquent sent here for straightening out. “I’m here for the summer holidays to visit my aunt and uncle.”
The Chunk Hunk smiled warmly at me, an easy smile that flecked his green eyes with gold highlights in the sun. “Great, well welcome to SamCo. I just wanted to say, nice debating. And I hope you didn’t take any of it personally. Are we ok?”
His mention of the debate had a wall of coldness crashing down, slicing off any desire I may have had for a conversation with them. “No. We aren’t. You know SOME of us are products of exactly that exploitative union you referred to. We aren’t all pure Samoans steeped in cultural richness and we happen to be proud of that mixed heritage. I don’t care if this was just a FUN debate, you shouldn’t go around saying stuff like that which can be so derogatory and offensive. Especially for those of us who have mixed parents.” My voice rose several octaves as I neared the end of my spiel and several students around us turned to listen. I didn’t realize I was trembling until I finished and I felt a huge weariness wash over me. What was I doing? Why was I wasting my time and effort arguing with this idiot? What did his opinion matter anyway? “Oh just forget it, you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about. You’re just another pure Samoan steeped in high and mighty cultural richness.”
The Chunk Hunk looked confused and Maleko let out a surprised whoop as I turned away from them and pushed my way through the crowd and out the classroom door. I could hear people laughing as I half ran down the corridor, errant tears threatening to spill. I didn’t stop my rush until I was in the safety of the girls’ bathroom, where I threw cold water on my face. I felt like a fool, a marked woman and all I wanted to do was go home.
Back in the hall and under control of my emotions, I gripped my bag , resolving not to let anyone else get under my skin. You’ve handled worse, Leila I reminded myself. You can do this . So intent on my own private mental pep talk I almost bumped into the graceful Simone preening in the hall. He was alone. Waiting for someone. For me?
“Leila, there you are.”
I was in no mood to be gracious. “What?”
“What was that all about back there?”
“What was what?” deliberately obtuse.
Simone pursed his lips and shook his head at me, one manicured hand on his hip.
“Back there. That debate. Your attack on Daniel.”
I was so used to calling him the Chunk Hunk that I only looked confused.
“Huh? Who?”
“You know – Daniel – the Head Boy? Tall, GQ model beautiful?”
I grimaced and shrugged my shoulders, unwilling to concede I made the connection. Simone continued.
“You got kind of upset back there, don’t you think you were taking things a bit too personal? Don’t you have debates back home?” He looked impatient with my seeming ignorance. “I don’t know why you got so psycho at Daniel for.”
I stared out
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