The New Normal

The moment Amani and Malik slipped through the wrought-iron gates of St. Bonifatius College, the usual before-class buzz shifted unmistakably toward them, drawn like a magnet to metal. Amani tugged at his blazer's collar, suddenly wishing he could blend into the bricks of the building. An impossible wish, given half the school was now whispering his name.

Near the bicycle racks, three second-years crouched behind handlebars, eyes following his every step.

"That's him, right? Number 37?" one boy murmured excitedly.

The second looked him over skeptically. "Seriously? He looks… normal."

"Normal," the third shot back with a mischievous grin, "until he threads a pass right through your legs."

They dissolved into laughter, and Amani quickly turned his attention to the Dutch grammar book clutched tightly in his hand. Eighteen months at the academy had come with plenty of stares, but this was something entirely different.