ANOTHER NEW TRANSFER STUDENT

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I tried to keep up with the lessons, but my mind kept drifting. Between the new environment, meeting Ali, and the fight earlier, it felt like I'd already lived through a week, not just a few hours.

When the final bell rang, I was more than ready to head home. But as I was packing my stuff, Ali came up to me again.

"Hey," he started, a little hesitant this time. "You heading home?"

"Yeah," I replied, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Why?"

He scratched the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. "Thought maybe we could walk together. You know, since we're both new here. Kinda."

I raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

We walked out of the school together, and for a while, neither of us said anything. The streets were busy, with kids laughing and talking as they headed home, vendors shouting to sell their wares, and the occasional matatu honking as it zipped by.

"So," Ali said, breaking the silence, "what's your story? I mean, you're not like the rest of us."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, smirking.

He chuckled. "Come on, man. You're from America. You fight like you've been trained, and you actually stuck up for me today. Most people here wouldn't even look my way."

I shrugged. "Guess I'm just built different."

He laughed again, but this time it felt more real. "Seriously, though. Thanks. I'm not used to... you know, someone having my back."

I glanced at him. "Why do they hate you so much anyway? You don't seem like a bad guy."

He hesitated, kicking a stone on the road as we walked. "It's... complicated. People see what they wanna see. And yeah, I've done some stuff I'm not proud of, but it's not like I had a choice."

I didn't press further. Everyone had their reasons, and I could tell Ali wasn't ready to lay all his cards on the table yet.

As we neared the corner where our paths split, he stopped. "Hey, Jayden. You're alright, you know that?"

I grinned. "Thanks, man. You're not so bad yourself."

He smirked. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Tomorrow," I replied, watching him walk off.

As I headed home, I couldn't shake the feeling that Ali and I were going to be seeing a lot more of each other. And for the first time since arriving in Mombasa, I didn't feel so out of place. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

The next morning, I barely made it to school on time. Grandma had been on my case about waking up earlier, but I still wasn't used to the routine here. As I rushed into the classroom, I noticed Ali was already there, sitting a couple of seats away from mine. He nodded at me as I walked in, and I nodded back.

The teacher hadn't arrived yet, so the class was a bit rowdy. Kids were chatting, tossing paper balls, and making jokes. I found my seat near the back and dropped my bag, ready to zone out for a bit before class started.

Just as I settled in, the classroom door opened, and in walked someone new.

The guy was tall, lean, and walked with a casual confidence that instantly drew attention. His uniform was slightly untidy—his tie loose, shirt sleeves rolled up. He looked around the room with a smirk, his eyes scanning everyone as if he was sizing them up.

"Who's that?" I whispered to Ali.

"Digler," Ali muttered. "He's new too. Moved here from Nairobi."

The teacher stepped in right after him, cutting short any chance of introductions.

"Class, we have a new student joining us today," the teacher announced. "This is Digler. He's transferred here from Nairobi, so I expect you all to make him feel welcome."

"Sure, sure," Digler said with a grin that made it clear he didn't need anyone's help fitting in.

The teacher gestured toward the empty seats, and to my surprise, Digler walked straight to the back of the class and plopped down in the seat next to mine.

"Yo," he said, leaning toward me with a casual grin. "What's your name?"

"Jayden," I said. "You're new too, huh?"

"Yeah. Just moved here last week," he said, stretching out as if he owned the place. "And you? What's your story?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to share. "I moved here recently too. Staying with my grandma."

"Interesting," he said, smirking. "You don't look like you're from around here. What's the deal?"

"Came from America," I said, trying to keep it short.

Digler let out a low whistle. "America, huh? Fancy. Bet you're still getting used to this place. Mombasa's... different."

"Yeah, you could say that."

He chuckled, then leaned back in his chair, completely ignoring the teacher's attempt to start the lesson. "Well, stick with me, Jayden. Nairobi's rougher than here, so I've got experience. You'll see, we'll get through this place just fine."

Ali, sitting a few seats away, shot me a glance, clearly wary of Digler.

Throughout the lesson, Digler didn't seem to care about school at all. He doodled in his notebook, whispered jokes to me, and even leaned over once to ask, "So, Jayden, you got a girlfriend yet?"

I frowned. "What?"

"Just asking," he said with a shrug. "You know, new city, fresh start—it's the perfect time to make some moves."

I shook my head. "Not really my thing."

Digler sighed dramatically. "Man, we've got work to do."

Ali, sitting nearby, rolled his eyes. I could tell he didn't trust Digler, and honestly, I wasn't sure what to make of him either. He was bold, confident, and clearly used to being the center of attention.

By the time class ended, I felt like I'd been through a whirlwind. Digler packed up his stuff lazily, as if he had all the time in the world, and clapped me on the shoulder before leaving.

"Catch you later, Jayden," he said with a smirk. "Oh, and you," he added, pointing at Ali, "you're quiet, huh? Don't worry, I'll loosen you up soon enough."

Ali didn't respond, just watched him walk out with that same wary expression. As soon as Digler was gone, Ali turned to me.

"You might want to keep your distance from that guy," Ali said.

"Why?" I asked, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"He's... different," Ali said carefully. "Kids like him usually bring trouble. I've seen it before."

I glanced toward the door where Digler had disappeared. Sure, he was loud and cocky, but there was something about him that seemed genuine—like he wasn't trying to hide who he was.

"We'll see," I said simply, starting toward the hallway.

Ali followed, shaking his head. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

As we made our way to the next class, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of person Digler really was. He was clearly a wildcard, and if Ali was right, he could bring a whole lot of chaos with him. Still, there was something about him that made me curious.

For better or worse, it seemed like Digler was going to be part of my new life in Mombasa. Whether that was a good thing or not, I had no idea yet.

END CHAPTER.