Chapter 1

“Ntombi, I’m going out.”

“Mama, you can’t. It’s the third time this week and I’ve got …” But before Ntombi could finish her sentence her mother was already giving her a list of things to do while she was at Thabiso’s Tavern.

“There’s some money left for you and Zinzi. Make sure Zinzi does her homework – and don’t let her stay up too late! How do I look?” She did a twirl in the middle of the living room. Ntombi looked at the silver top and new jeans her mother was wearing and her heart sank. They were yet another gift from her mother’s new boyfriend, Zakes. Every time he went out with her mother he gave her something – but there was never enough money left over to buy something for her or her sister. He never had anything for them except for his unwanted ‘words of advice’. Words that made Ntombi want to throw something at him. Cruel, mean, words.

“You girls will never get boyfriends looking like that. Why don’t you do something to your hair? You look like village moegoes. No, what you need is to go to the hairdresser, get some braids.”

With what money? thought Ntombi, but she knew if she questioned him out loud, he would get angry and her mother would only take his side. She was forever saying, “Now don’t upset Zakes,” or “He’s only teasing; don’t be so sensitive,” or, even worse: “Maybe you should take his advice. You know he’s a very successful businessman.” And once when she was really mad, she shouted at Ntombi: “He is my boyfriend and you must respect him. His word is law!” Their mother had become a stranger. Ntombi wanted her old mother back.

Even when it was just the three of them it wasn’t the same. Zakes still messed things up between them. “What does he do?” Ntombi asked her mother on one of the few nights that her mother was home these days.

But her mother had looked unsure and started picking at her nail polish. “He’s in business…” she said uncertainly.

“What kind of business?” Ntombi wasn’t going to let her mother off the hook so easily.

“I don’t know. He’s a car dealer, a sales rep.” Her mother sat up on the bed, where they had been lying. “Anyway why all the questions? Are you the police?” Her mood had changed and she was glaring at Ntombi. “All I care about is that he treats me good, and that he’s got a good job. You’ve seen the way he dresses, and the car he drives.”

“Mama, you used to tell me those things didn’t matter. You used to tell me it was what was inside that mattered. You told me you married Dad for love…”

“And look where that got me!” her mother interrupted. “I don’t see him in this room. Do you?” That was the end of the conversation. Her mother had got up and gone through to watch a soapie on TV.

* * *

Ntombi didn’t trust Zakes one bit. He was a fake through and through. And what was worse, she didn’t like the way her mother acted when he was around. Like she was their older sister, competing over guys, rather than their mother who should be looking after them, giving them good advice, and protecting them from men like Zakes.

When her dad left a year ago, just after her fourteenth birthday, her mother was very sad, but at least they still felt like a family. They cuddled up on the couch together and watched Bold, and laughed and cried together. And then, one day, Mama came home from the rich private school where she worked cooking lunches, and told them she was going out that evening. The kitchen staff at the school had persuaded her to join them at Thabiso’s Tavern and she thought it might be good for her. Ntombi had helped her choose an outfit: a nice denim skirt, just below the knee, a tight black wraparound top with a white denim jacket. And to top it off, some gold earrings. Mama looked great. She had kissed her mother goodbye and wished her luck. Little did she guess that that night her mother would meet Zakes and their lives would be turned upside down again.

Ntombi knew the first time she saw Zakes, with his gold chains and flash smile that didn’t reach his eyes, that he would bring nothing but trouble. Even his car looked like a fake. It had been resprayed and that could mean one of two things: he had been in an accident, or the car was stolen. Things felt wrong when Zakes was in the house. He seemed too big for their small couch, sitting there with his beer, interrupting their conversations with his loud voice. He loved to say things like, “Girls, you are my daughters now. Go fetch another beer for your father.”

“Do as he says,” their mother would add if they hesitated, as she cuddled closer to her new boyfriend. There was no time for Ntombi or Zinzi when Zakes was around.

* * *

“Here.” Her mother handed Ntombi a five rand coin from her new gold bag. She smelled of some strong perfume Zakes had bought her. “Buy yourself some sweets at the shop,” she said as she rushed out, putting on lipstick as she went.

“Mama, I’m meant to be at singing practice. The competition is next week and…” But her mother was already out of the door and in the seat of Zakes’ resprayed BMW with its fluffy dice bouncing from the rearview mirror and couldn’t hear her. All she could do was watch as Zakes reversed with a squeal of tyres, and then they were gone.

Chapter 2

Ntombi looked at the five rand coin in her hand. “What does she think I can buy with five rand?” she thought. One small bag of chips at the spaza, and a small packet of sweets, which she’d have to share with Zinzi. It wouldn’t buy her what she really needed – just ten minutes of time with her mother, when they could sit down and watch TV together, or talk, like they used to.

Just then Zinzi came in. She had been playing soccer in the street and her knee was grazed and bleeding. “Where’s Mama?” she asked Ntombi.

“Guess,” said Ntombi. “It’s not that hard.”

“Zakes?”

“Where else?”

“I thought you had singing practice this evening?’ said Zinzi as she slumped on the couch and dabbed at her cut with a tissue.

“Not any more. Mama said I’ve got to stay home and look after you.”

“I can look after myself.”

“You’re twelve,” said Ntombi, fetching the Dettol from the bathroom and dabbing it on Zinzi’s cut.

“Ouch!” Zinzi complained. “Stop it. You’re hurting me.”

“Don’t act like a baby. You don’t want it to get worse, do you? Do you want to go to hospital with an infected cut?”

“Why are you in such a bad mood?”

“Wouldn’t you be if you were missing a chance to go to the national finals of South Africa’s Teen Voice Competition?”

“I thought the judges were only coming next week?”

“They are. But every practice is really important. Mr Masondo says that we have to work hard and make Harmony High proud. Otherwise he won’t let us compete.”

Ntombi had been chosen, along with ten others at Harmony High, to perform for a panel of talent scouts that was travelling around the country auditioning high school students for the Teen Voice singing competition. If she was chosen out of the ten students from her school then she would go on to the national finals in Jozi. The prize was R10 000 and a recording contract. Ntombi had promised herself that she would work as hard as she could, attend every practice, and go to the nationals. Sometimes she even let herself dream of winning the competition. It would change her life – she would work really hard and produce an album. She’d buy a proper house for her family, and make sure her sister finished school. With the money she could go to university and study to become…

* * *

Just then there was the sound of girls laughing outside in the street.

“It’s the giraffes,” Zinzi said from the couch where she was watching Days on TV. She called Ntombi’s three girlfriends the giraffes because they were taller than other girls. In turn, they called Ntombi “shortie”, although she was average height. Ntombi opened the door and hugged her friends Busi, Asanda and Lettie. At least she could rely on them for support. Asanda and Lettie had also been chosen to compete in the singing competition and Ntombi could see that they were on their way to the practice. Busi was going along to watch in the hope of attracting the attention of Unathi, who was also competing. At the last practice she sat in the front row seats in the hall, blowing kisses to Unathi and holding up a big piece of paper with “I love Unathi” painted in lipstick. Unathi had just smiled and waved. Ntombi had told Busi that Unathi had a girlfriend back in Jozi, where he was from, but Busi wouldn’t listen. She didn’t want to hear.

“Come on, lazy girl,” Asanda laughed. “We’ll be late.” The practice was in the school hall, a taxi-ride away.

“I can’t go,” Ntombi told them.

“You must be joking!” Lettie said. “What’s wrong with you? I thought this was your dream?”

“Mama went out and I have to look after Zinzi.”

“You know what this means. Mr Masondo is not going to be pleased.”

“I know.” Ntombi was close to tears and her friends could see it. Mr Masondo was their singing coach and he was strict. Two missed rehearsals and you were out of the competition.

Asanda gave her a big hug. “Listen, we’ll bring you the lyrics back and help you practise. Cheer up. I’ll tell Mr Masondo that you got food poisoning.” Asanda was the queen of excuses, and with her charm the teachers always believed her.

“Thanks chommies. You’re the best.” Ntombi tried to smile bravely, but she felt terrible.

“By the way, there’s a party on Saturday at Thabiso’s Tavern. We’re going,” Busi said. “Why don’t you come? It should be fun. Unathi’s going to be there with his cousin from Jozi.”

“How many times do I have to tell you Unathi has a girlfriend?” Ntombi despaired of Busi. She really lost her head over boys and forgot who she was – the intelligent and charismatic girl who had a great future if she could just stay focused.

“He’s never mentioned her,” said Busi. “And anyway evidently his cousin is even better looking, and I’ve always wanted to go to Jozi. They say the men are hot up there.”

“You’re going to burn yourself one day,” joked Ntombi. “Just be careful.”

“Yes, Mama,” the girls laughed.

* * *

Ntombi watched as her friends ran down the road to catch the taxi. They were laughing and chatting. She went back inside and shut the door. The girls were right to call her ‘Mama’ – that’s what she was at the moment, and she was only fifteen. It was like her mother and her had swopped roles. The other girls used to complain about their strict mothers and tell Ntombi she was lucky. But Ntombi had noticed they didn’t say that anymore, not since Zakes had arrived on the scene. And Ntombi did not want to be a mother. Not for a long time. Not until she had finished studying and definitely not with someone she didn’t love and respect!

“I’m hungry,” complained Zinzi, who was watching The Bold and the Beautiful.

Ntombi wanted to just walk away from the house. But she knew she couldn’t.

She put the last bit of mielie meal into the pot. Sometimes she loved porridge for supper. But she was getting tired of it now. Before Zakes, her mother had always made sure that there was enough food in the house for them. It was a struggle on her salary, but she would always cook them a good meal in the evening and they would sit together and chat about the day. She had been sad a lot, but then they also had good times together. They went shopping in town on Saturday at the end of the month when her mother would give them each pocket money to spend. Now she didn’t have time for them any more. Ntombi had been telling her how the fridge needed to be fixed (it kept going on and off) and that the drain at the back of the house was blocked again. That’s when she really missed her dad. He would have fixed it by now. And where was Zakes when something went wrong in their house – out selling cars?

She served the pap onto plates. “Careful, it’s hot,” she warned.

“Not this again,” complained Zinzi.

“Don’t tell me, tell Mama,” said Ntombi.“If she’s ever here to tell.” As they ate, on Bold, a soapie star reclined on a lounging chair beside a pool somewhere in America – somewhere hot and lush with lots of money. A butler handed her an ice cold cocktail… she didn’t have a care in the world. Her nanny was looking after her kids, and Ntombi knew that her fridge would be brimming with food. Just then there was a sizzling sound and a bang from the back of the TV. The smell of burned plastic filled the room.

“No!” screamed Zinzi. “Not the TV! My life has ended.” And she buried her face under a cushion.

“Don’t be such a drama queen!” yelled Ntombi. She went into the bedroom to get away from her sister, before she exploded like the TV. She lay on the bed she shared with Zinzi and started paging through a magazine. But she wasn’t reading the words. She kept thinking of Asanda and Lettie standing on the stage of the school hall, learning the words of that new song, and them all laughing and having fun as they got one step closer to the finals, while she was stuck in this dump with a younger sister who was driving her crazy and not helping one bit around the house.

She looked down at the glamorous pop stars in the mag. Who did she think she was, trying to compete with girls like this? Maybe she was dreaming after all. Maybe Zakes was right. Maybe she didn’t have what it took to be a Teen Voice star. “Why bother entering the competition,” he had said. “These days you have to have the whole package: the looks, the sex appeal and the voice. You’ll only be setting yourself up to be taken down.”

Her dad would never have said those hurtful words. He had told her that he was so proud of her when she had got into the choir at Harmony High. And when he had his employer’s car for a few days he had taken her to practices himself. Once when she wanted to go and get her ears pierced he had said, “Why spoil something so beautiful already?”

Now she didn’t even know where he was, or who he was with. Maybe he had a whole other family somewhere, another daughter, whom he loved now, more than her?

* * *

As she lay there she thought of the three promises she had made to herself on New Year’s eve three months ago. First: to enter the singing competition and go all the way to the final. Second: not to go out with a guy unless he was kind and respected her – not like the guy Busi had dated in the holiday, who had seemed the real deal – too good to be true – because he was too good to be true. He was good looking and clever, but he had left her with a broken heart and a broken arm after he had pushed her and she had tripped and fallen hard. If Ntombi and Asanda hadn’t run when they heard her cries from behind the sports shed at school, things might have been a lot worse. But when they appeared Ebenezer had left her and run – a coward at heart.

The third promise was to find her dad and bring him home. There was no way that she was going to let Zakes move in with them and pretend to be their father.

Chapter 3

Ntombi woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night. In the dream she was wearing a long pink dress with lots of frills and her friend Asanda was putting a tiara with plastic flowers in her hair. They were in the changing rooms at the church hall where the auditions were going to be for the Teen Voice competition. First Ntombi thought she had won the competition and she was really excited. She was ready to walk out on the stage in front of hundreds of people and be given flowers and a recording contract. Pink wasn’t really her colour, but who cared, when she was about to become a pop star? But when she walked out into the hall there were no screaming teenage fans and no sign of a microphone. In fact the hall was full of men and women dressed in suits and formal dresses. And there at the back, next to the door was her mother. She was also dressed in a huge pink dress, with more frills and lace than Ntombi’s. For a second Ntombi thought that this might be her own wedding, and that at any minute the handsomest, coolest guy was going to appear, walk towards her and announce that he was her fiancé. But then Zakes walked in, and Ntombi realised that this was no fairytale wedding and she definitely wasn’t the princess. She was a bridesmaid at her mother’s wedding to Zakes. The dream had just turned into a terrible nightmare.

Her mother was smiling and kissing Zakes. He was smiling that fake smile. Before she knew it her mother was calling her to the bridal procession. Her sister appeared in an identical pink dress. The whole thing made Ntombi feel sick.

“What’s wrong, Ntombi?” Suddenly her mother had the face of a witch. “Can’t you be happy for us?”

“Just wait.” Zakes gripped her arm and led her away so her mother couldn’t hear what he was about to say. His breath was warm and stank of beer as he lowered his voice.“There’s no escaping from me now,” he said. “You will do exactly as I say or there will be trouble. I am the boss in your house.” He let her go and she rubbed her arm; his fat fingers had left marks on her skin. She watched as her mother took Zakes’ arm and walked up the aisle and up the stairs to the stage where a priest was waiting to marry them.

Ntombi had to do something to stop them – nobody else was. She tried to run but her feet were glued to the ground. She opened her mouth to scream but no words came out. Zakes took the ring and was about to slip it on her mother’s finger.

* * *

She must have made a noise when she woke up because her mother was standing next to her bed.

“What’s the matter, baby girl?” she said. “Did you have a bad dream?” She wasn’t a witch. She was the loving, kind mother Ntombi had known before Zakes came along.

All Ntombi could say was, “You came back.”

“Of course I came back. And I want to thank you for cooking supper and looking after your sister last night. I had a really good time with Zakes. You know things are going very well with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if…”

“No,” Ntombi said quickly. So it was true he was going to ask her to marry him.

“I was going to say, I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks me to his end-of-year work party.”

“At the car dealership?” Ntombi asked warily. She was sure there was no car dealership. Or else that it was a front for something else that Zakes was up to. Something illegal and dangerous. She had heard talk in their neighbourhood that he was in some shady business. Whenever his cell rang when she was around, he switched it off without answering it. Once he hadn’t seen her come up behind him while he was talking, and he had shouted at her.

“Never do that again, sneaking up on me like that when I’m on my cell.”

But her mother wouldn’t listen to the rumours. She said that people just wanted to bad-mouth him because he was successful.

“Zakes says it’s going to be the whole national team of sales reps at some smart hotel. I can’t wait.” Her mother sounded so proud of him. Ntombi’s heart sank. Nothing had changed.

“Thanks for the tea,” was all she said.

“It’s a pleasure.” Her mother hesitated. Ntombi waited. She knew what was coming.

“Zakes has invited me out tonight…”

“But Mama, you went out last night, and the night before.”

“I know. But he wants me to meet a friend of his, who could get me a job.”

“You have a job.”

“A better one. Please, Ntombi. I promise I’ll do something nice with you on Saturday. I promise.” Ntombi looked at her mother: she sounded like a teenager herself, pleading like this to go out with her boyfriend. And making promises she couldn’t keep.

* * *

As Ntombi watched her mother leave for work that morning she was more worried than ever. What if she gave up her job at the school for some false promise by some sleazy friend of Zakes and burned all her bridges? What if she landed up without any job? How would they survive? No, she had to find a way to make her mother see the truth about Zakes. But she would need help. This was something she couldn’t do on her own.

“Hurry up Zinzi. We’ll be late for the taxi,” Ntombi called to her sister who was pulling her short hair back into a little ponytail.

“I’m coming…”

They had to run down the sandy track between the prefab RDP houses, around the corner, past the spaza shop and across the open stretch of ground (where the council had put one swing, that was now broken) to the taxi rank on the other side.

Mrs Thembeka who sold veggies near the taxi rank, greeted Ntombi. “You girls are going to get fit the way you have to run for your taxi every morning,” she laughed. “Wait till the Olympics come to South Africa. You’ll be ready.”

Ntombi was out of breath as she pushed Zinzi onto the taxi in front of her. She gave the gaadjie her coins and sat down.

There was a whistle from the back seat. Ntombi usually avoided the older schoolboys who sat in a row at the back. They were eighteen and had a reputation as the ‘bad boys’ of Harmony High’s matric year. But this morning she made the mistake of turning around. She couldn’t tell who had whistled, but the boy in the middle of the back row winked at her. He then gave her such a smile that she couldn’t help but smile in return, before turning away quickly to look out the front window. She felt like everyone in the taxi was staring at her and she wanted to shrink under the seats. He was so good-looking and so cute – that smile was hard to resist. At school she had seen him at break time hanging out with his friends down at the sports shed. His name was Mzi. Asanda’s older sister Tilly had gone out with his older brother Themba, when she was in Grade 12, but it had ended badly. Really badly. Tilly had got pregnant and Themba had denied that it was his baby and had ignored her from then on.

“Those Mlongenis are no good,” her father used to say. “Stay clear of them.” And then when Tilly got pregnant, their dad threatened: “If I see any of you so much as speaking to one of those boys you will not be welcome in this house. You’ll be on your own. Do you understand?” Ntombi and Zinzi had nodded in silence. But where was their dad now? And was it really fair to blame the younger brother for the older brother’s behaviour. And here he was winking at her – and so cute!

All these thoughts went racing through her mind as the taxi hooted and screamed along in the fast lane. Each day was a dice with death in these taxis, and the music pumped so loudly it was giving Ntombi a headache even before she got to school. This one had gansta rap blasting out, an angry man’s voice shouting and swearing, with the boys at the back joining in the chorus.

As Ntombi stepped down from the taxi her school bag fell, and all the books were splayed out on the pavement for everyone to see. She nearly died of embarrassment. Everyone was stepping over and around her as they got off the taxi, in a hurry to get to assembly before the bell went. Everyone except for Mzi. Ntombi looked up. He was standing over her. For a moment she panicked. There was no one else around. The taxi driver had driven off. They were alone on the pavement. Who could she call? But then he squatted down next to her. “Let me help you,” he said in the sweetest, gentlest voice she had ever heard. A voice that could melt butter.

He started collecting her books and handing them to her. She put them back in her bag. As he passed her an English workbook his hand touched hers. She looked up, and for a second they stared into each other’s eyes. Then she quickly put the book away and stood up. “Thanks,” she said quickly.

“It’s a pleasure, helping someone as cute as you. You know, I’ve been watching you since the beginning of term.”

“Really?” said Ntombi, feeling a flutter in her stomach. What was she doing talking to one of the Mlongeni boys? And alone? Her father would chase her out of the house. But her father was who-knows-where? “I must run. I’m late,” she said.

“Meet me down at the sports shed at break time. I’d like to give you something,” he said and smiled that cute smile again. As she ran up the stairs into the school foyer she turned. He was still standing watching her. “Promise?” he called after her.

“Yes,” she called back, feeling that she was flying.

This is really cool. I love the fact that I'm getting a chance to read events that happened in SouthAfrica. You can just try putting more description in your work

Chapter 4

Ntombi couldn’t concentrate in class. All she could think of was Mzi’s hand touching hers, his smile, his words. She was lost in a dream world. This time it wasn’t a nightmare. It had a happy ending … Mzi and her on a beach holding hands. Mzi and her watching the sunset…

“Ntombi!” She looked up. Her English teacher, Mr Ntlanti, was standing next to her desk, and she hadn’t even noticed him come up beside her. “Ntombi, are you daydreaming?”

“Sorry, Mr Ntlanti.” She felt herself blushing. Mr Ntlanti was one of her favourite teachers. He didn’t just stand in front of the class and read out of books, expecting them to take notes. He asked them for their opinions, and had class discussions about relationships between girls and boys. Sometimes the boys would make silly comments, and even then Mr Ntlanti would laugh and tease them back.

Ntombi heard Asanda giggling behind her. “I wonder who Ntombi’s dreaming about?” Asanda said, just loud enough for the boys next to her to hear. But Mr Ntlanti had sharp ears.

“Class, that’s enough! We are not running a dating service here. Get on with your essays.” Mr Ntlanti turned back to Ntombi. “Ntombi, I heard you were in the singing competition,” he said. “We need someone to write about it for the school magazine. I wondered if you’d like to write a page. You can write anything. You could even write song lyrics.”

“Thanks. I’d love to.” She smiled up at him. Ntombi couldn’t believe it. She had always wanted to write for the school magazine. And to write music lyrics was even better. Mr Ntlanti had taken notice of her, out of all the kids in the class. And Mzi Mlongeni had taken notice of her too! This was turning out to be a really good day!

“Good.” Mr Ntlanti smiled, “I’ll tell Selwyn. He’s the editor. You’ll need to attend the editorial meeting on Friday.”

* * *

When the bell went Ntombi was the first out of the classroom. “Where you going in such a hurry?” Asanda called. Ntombi, Asanda, Lettie and Busi normally hung out together at break. They were best friends. And they were the best friends to have. Not like Xoliswa who pretended she was Ntombi’s friend, but then had gone around saying bad things about Ntombi behind her back. No, these girls were loyal to each other.

But this break time Ntombi couldn’t hang out with them. She had someone else to see. For a second she hesitated on the stairs. Normally there were no secrets between them. They all knew about it if there was a boy one of them liked, before the boy even knew. But Ntombi knew what they would say if she told them: “Are you crazy? Don’t you remember what that Mlongeni boy did to Tilly? And in matric? She had to wait a whole year before she could retake her exams. And does he support the child? No. Just pretends he knows nothing about it.”

“But that was Themba. This is Mzi…” Ntombi would argue. However she knew they would just shake their heads: “Like one, like the other. Didn’t Mzi nearly get expelled for drinking at school?” It was true, thought Ntombi, he had. She remembered him being called down to the office. But that was last year. She hadn’t heard anything since school started. Surely people could change? Hadn’t she changed? One day the boys didn’t notice her and the next she was being told she was cute by the hottest boy in Grade 12, and being asked to write for the mag. And didn’t she deserve some fun? All her friends had had boyfriends, even if they had only gone out for a few days! So she turned and ran down the stairs on her own, ignoring Asanda who called after her to wait.

* * *

Mzi was waiting, as he said he would be, outside the sports shed. But today, instead of being part of a group of boys, he was alone. When Ntombi came closer she saw him stub out a cigarette he had been smoking, and put something he had in his pocket in his mouth. Two thoughts raced through Ntombi’s mind. First: he shouldn’t be smoking. And then, that he looked like a film star – so casual and cool.

“Bad habit, I know,” he laughed as she walked up beside him. “I’m trying to give up. I’ve cut down to five a day – from twenty,” he added. “Want one?” He offered her a Dentyne.

“Thanks. Listen I haven’t got much time – I’ve got to go and see Selwyn about the magazine. They want me to write a story about this singing competition I’m in.” She stopped. She was being so uncool, telling him all this stuff. Talking non-stop like an excited child.

“This won’t take long,” he said touching her arm. “I wanted to ask you…” He suddenly became shy, looking down at his shoes. “I’ve been wanting to ask you if you’d like to go with me to the party at Thabiso’s this weekend.”

Ntombi bit her lip. She had promised her friends that they would go as a group. But when she had promised there was no Mzi in her life. “I…”

“Think about it,” Mzi said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

That afternoon when Ntombi got home she felt like she was floating on air. Surely Mzi wasn’t the boy everyone said he was? People could be mean, and jealous. He smoked – that was bad. But he was trying to give it up – that was good. He had helped her pick up her books – that was kind. No, she decided that she would make up her own mind about him. Suddenly it didn’t matter so much that her mother wasn’t there, or that the TV still wasn’t fixed. Nothing seemed so bad anymore. Suddenly the world looked rosier, because Mzi wanted to take her, not some glamorous babe, but her, shy Ntombi, who had never had a proper boyfriend, to the party. “What a difference a day makes…” she sang, as she started to tidy the house.

“What’s up with you?” asked Zinzi.

“I’m just happy. Am I not allowed to be happy?”

“What’s there to be happy about?” complained Zinzi. “I don’t see anything’s changed, do you? Mama’s out. There’s no TV, no food and I’m hungry.”

“I’ll go to the spaza shop,” said Ntombi. “I’ll cook something really nice.” She went to look in the tin where her mother usually left cash for them, in case of emergencies. It was empty. Reluctantly she took money she had saved up from her purse. She had intended to use it to have her hair braided for the party. But they had to eat.

* * *

At the spaza shop she bought rice, oil, a tin of pilchards, and some onions. Ntombi counted out her money; she was three rand short.

“I’ll have to leave the onions,” she said.

“Hi, Ntombi.” She heard a voice behind her and turned to see Olwethu. He must have come up really quietly because she didn’t hear him. Ntombi knew him from school; they’d been in choir together for a year. He was a bit older than her, and she had admired him: he was quiet, but when he did talk, what he said was always interesting, or funny. He was tall and thin, not hunky like Mzi, but not bad looking either. When he stopped coming to choir, Asanda had told her that he had to drop out of school for a term, because his father had died of AIDS and his mother had died in a taxi accident on the way back from his funeral, leaving him with a brother and sister to care for. How much tragedy could one family take, thought Ntombi, looking at Olwethu now. He was smiling at her.

“Hey, I’ll give you some onions. I’ve got a bag at home.” His voice was low and kind.

“Don’t worry,” Ntombi said, feeling shy.

“Really, it’s not a problem,” Olwethu assured her, “I live just around the corner now.”

“Are you sure?” Ntombi asked. “It’s just my mother’s out and I have to cook for my little sister.”

“I know what that’s like,” Olwethu said. “Little sisters can be difficult.” They laughed.

* * *

Ntombi walked with Olwethu down the street and round the corner to one of the shacks in the next road. The inside of his shack was small but cosy. There was an old TV in the corner, and colourful newspaper pictures on the walls as wallpaper. As Ntombi came in Olwethu’s sister and brother jumped up and greeted her. An old lady, who was sitting in the only chair in the room, put down her knitting to greet Ntombi. “Hello Gogo, don’t get up,” said Ntombi quickly.

“Ntombi was short at the shop and she needs some onions to cook for her sister,” explained Olwethu, handing his grandmother her glasses that had fallen to the floor.

“You are welcome, child,” the granny said. “Give her some fruit too.” Ntombi saw that they didn’t have much, but Olwethu was picking out the best pieces of fruit to give her.

“Ntombi’s singing in the competition I was telling you about,” said Olwethu.

“Sing something for us!” His sister begged.

“Hey … stop pestering her,” said Olwethu. Ntombi could see she was disappointed.

“I can try,” she said. She started singing – softly at first, then louder as she got her courage up. When she finished they all clapped. She felt really good.

“Your parents must be so proud of you,” the granny said. “You are so talented: a beautiful voice for a beautiful girl.”

“How many songs do you have to sing?” asked Olwethu.

Ntombi was not used to being the centre of attention.“Three songs. I’ve chosen one R&B, one gospel, and a ballad.”

“And which one is your mother’s favourite?” asked the granny.

“Well, actually…” Ntombi could lie and pick any one. But looking at the granny’s open face she suddenly didn’t want to lie. “Well, actually my mother’s been too busy to listen to me…”

“Who could be too busy to listen to that?” asked the granny. Before she knew it, Ntombi found that she was telling them about how their father had left, how her mother had got a new boyfriend, and how she didn’t have time for them anymore.

“That must be hard for you,” said Olwethu. Ntombi suddenly felt bad. Here he was listening to her and sympathising, when he had lost both his parents.

“It is difficult when a new man comes into your house,” said the granny.

“Especially someone like Zakes,” said Ntombi. She saw the granny and Olwethu exchange a look – a look of what? Fear, anxiety?

“Not Zakes Gamadala? The one who is driving that silver BMW?”

“That’s the one,” said Ntombi, suddenly feeling a familiar uneasy dread in her stomach. So there was something about Zakes that her mother didn’t know? It wasn’t just rumours. She had felt it all along. But what?

“Tell me,” she said to them. “Please.”

The granny shook her head. “All I know is, that man is a cheat, and maybe a thief. He sold my friend a car and after she paid him, she found out that the car was stolen. He wouldn’t give her money back.”

Chapter 5

Olwethu walked Ntombi home. It was starting to get dark as they turned past the spaza shop into her street. She was grateful to him. She didn’t like to be out on the streets when it was dark, and she was feeling bad for leaving Zinzi alone in the house. “So it’s true, what they say about Zakes?” she asked Olwethu.

“My gogo doesn’t gossip. If she told you it’s because she wants you to know, and she wants to protect your mother,” Olwethu said.

“I knew that he was up to no good,” said Ntombi, “and I know I have to make my mother see sense … but she won’t listen to me anymore. She’s like a stranger.”

“That’s tough,” said Olwethu, and he looked like he really cared.

“It’s okay, really. Compared to what your family has been through.” She looked down, embarrassed. Olwethu fell quiet as they drew close to her house. Ntombi saw a familiar but worrying sight. There was Zakes’ BMW parked outside.

“I tell you what else I know about Zakes,” said Olwethu as they approached the pimped-up car. “In the school holiday I work at my uncle’s panel beating shop in Site C. One day this guy comes in with a black BMW, says he wants them to re-spray it silver. But there’s nothing wrong with the car – not a dent or a scratch. And when I asked my uncle, he told me to be quiet and keep working. It was like he was scared or something.”

“Zakes?”

“Yes. He had an Orlando Pirates sticker on the bumper.” There was the sticker now, on the bumper of Zakes’ car, staring them in the face.

“You’ll be alright?” Olwethu asked.

“Yes,” said Ntombi, “and thanks for everything.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he said. “See you at school sometime.” He seemed to hover, like he wanted to say something more, but then he turned and walked away down the street just as Zinzi came across from the spaza shop carrying a big bottle of cooldrink.

“Zakes said I could buy this, because I’ve been such a good girl,” she said smiling.

“And you bought it?” asked Ntombi, disgusted. “Don’t let him buy you off so easily, Zinzi. You’re worth far more than a bottle of cooldrink.”

“So you won’t be having any?” teased Zinzi.

“No way,” said Ntombi, although the ice-cold bottle looked so good. And she was so thirsty. I’m stronger than that, she thought. I have to be.

Zakes was taking up the whole couch when she got inside. The smell of his aftershave filled the small house.

“Aren’t you going to greet Zakes?” Zinzi asked, taking a gulp of cooldrink. Ntombi mumbled a greeting, dumped her shopping, and walked quickly past him to go to the bedroom. But he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She could smell the beer reeking from his whole body.

“How’s SA’s next Teen Voice singing queen?” he said mockingly. “I hope you gave what I said some thought.” He smiled at her, and she wanted to slap his hand away and run. He made her sick. “Because you know, when I move in here with your gorgeous mother, I don’t want anything to ruin it.”

It was a threat, she could tell. And for the first time, besides feeling sickened by him, she felt fear. How could she tell her mother the truth about him? Just then her mother came swanning in from the bedroom in a pair of new shoes. “What do you think?” she asked Ntombi and Zinzi. Ntombi pushed past her.

“What’s got into her?” her mother asked Zinzi.

“She’s just jealous,” said Zakes loudly, so that Ntombi could hear. “That’s really sad – when a daughter’s jealous of her own mother.”

* * *

Ntombi stayed in the bedroom. She got out her photo album and started to page through it. There was a picture of her dad holding her in his arms when she was a little girl. They looked so happy. What had gone wrong? There was one of her mother and father looking so proud as they held their two daughters up to the camera. Would those days ever come back? Were they gone forever?

The music was switched off and the TV on. Zakes had brought them a new TV and her mother and sister were so grateful! It was Isidingo and Ntombi liked to watch it. She liked to lose herself in the characters’ lives. It made her forget about her situation for thirty minutes every day. But tonight there was no way she was going to squash on a couch next to Zakes, drink his cooldrink, and watch a TV that he’d probably stolen. There was no way she would ever be grateful to him for anything, or put herself in his debt.

She got out her diary and started to doodle on the page. She had promised Mr Ntlanti that she would come up with the lyrics to a song for the magazine. She could write about an evil stepdad and a mother gone crazy with love. Or a teenage girl whose dreams to become the next teen idol came to nothing because she was trapped at home looking after her younger sister… who was drinking cooldrink and making out like Zakes was her best friend.

Ntombi wished one of her girlfriends was with her. They were always good in times like these. They would sympathise with her. Asanda would make fun of Zakes. She was good at impersonations and she would have them rolling around the bed with laughter, as she pushed out her tummy to make a beer belly and scratched her bottom like he did.

Just then Ntombi’s cellphone lit up in the dark. She smiled to herself – that would be one of the girls now. Often when she thought of them, one of them would SMS. It was like they had some telepathic connection, and could read each other’s thoughts. But when she looked at the screen, she did not recognise the number. She checked the inbox. There was a message:

Hey gojus. I’l b waitin on da taxi 2morow 4 u. Can’t wayt 2 spend mor tym wit u.

Ntombi read the message ten times but it didn’t change. He called her ‘gorgeous’; he “couldn’t wait to spend time with her”. No guy had ever said that to her before. She held the cellphone against her heart. She knew she was being sentimental, like the girls she laughed at in class, who carried around love notes from guys and lost their heads – but she couldn’t help it. Mzi made her feel something she had never felt before.

She wanted to SMS Asanda

immediately to ask her advice on what she should SMS back to him, but she stopped. How could she? Her friends didn’t approve of him, or his brother. Ntombi thought again how unfair it was for them to bundle him and his brother together as if they were the same person. Look how different she was from Zinzi It was hard sometimes to think they were related. No, she was on her own for now.

Sho

she typed… and pressed the send button…

Perhaps she should have made him wait, act like she wasn’t waiting for the phone to ring, but it was too late, the SMS was gone. There was no turning back. She waited, expecting another SMS to bounce back, but her screen remained blank. Anyway, it would be uncool of him to respond so quickly, she told herself. And tomorrow was just another sleep away.

“Ntombi, Zakes is going. Come and say goodbye,” her mother called to her from the lounge, but she didn’t respond. “I don’t understand that girl,” she heard her mother say, then she heard them all laughing. But now their laughter didn’t matter any more. It was going to be alright because Mzi had SMSed her and she would see him on the taxi the next morning.

When she heard Zakes’ BMW revving outside and then speeding off into the dark, she came out into the lounge. Her mother had left her a plate of food. But suddenly she wasn’t hungry. Is this what love does to you? she wondered.

“What’s got into you?” her mother asked her. “Why are you so rude to Zakes?”

“Why do you think?” Ntombi shot back.

“Maybe Zakes is right,” her mother said. “Maybe you are jealous.”

“Jealous of what?” Ntombi was getting mad.

“Because you haven’t got a boyfriend,” Zinzi chipped in.

“So whose side are you on?” Ntombi turned on her younger sister. She couldn’t believe her sister was changing sides because of one lousy bottle of cooldrink.

* * *

“Mama, Zakes is not what he seems,” Ntombi whispered to her mother later, as they lay in the dark trying to sleep.

“What do you mean?”

Ntombi hesitated. She didn’t know if she could tell her mother what Olwethu’s granny had said; how Zakes was a thief. It would hurt her mother terribly, and although she thought her mother had gone crazy and she didn’t like her at the moment, she didn’t want to hurt her before she was sure. Besides, maybe the granny’s friend had made a mistake. She could not speak to her mother until she knew the truth herself. If only there was a way she could find out more about Zakes.

“Have you ever been to his house?” Ntombi asked. Her mother was silent.

“Zakes is a proud man,” she eventually replied. “I think he is ashamed of how small his house is.”

“I thought he earned all this money?”

“He’s saving. He wants to give us a good life one day.”

“Has he ever introduced you to any of his family?”

Her mother sat up in bed. “It’s not easy for him. I am separated from your father. But we are not divorced. Until we are…” Her mother went quiet, just as Ntombi’s cellphone buzzed, and all thoughts of Zakes were forgotten. Ntombi could almost hear Mzi’s voice, whispering in her ear, as the words

gudnyt bby …

glowed green on her screen.

Chapter 6

“What’s wrong with you?” said Zinzi in the morning, as Ntombi re-did her hair for the tenth time. “Is the audition today?”

“Yes,” lied Ntombi. The last thing she wanted was her nosy little sister pestering her about Mzi. She wouldn’t leave them alone. It was bad enough they had to take the same taxi. But luckily, before they got to the taxi Zinzi was swooped along by a crowd of girls from her class. They were all giggling and looking at something one of them had written on Mxit. Zinzi didn’t notice Ntombi getting onto the taxi.

Mzi said something to the guys on either side of him, and they moved to make room. She couldn’t believe they were moving out the way for her, Ntombi, who had never drawn the attention of any of them before. Now she felt really proud to be sitting next to Mzi – so this is what it felt like to be someone’s girl. She thought she liked it.

“I missed you,” he whispered to her. She was very conscious of his thigh pressing against hers. It was warm and muscular. He was strong. He would protect her. “Did you have sweet dreams?” he asked. She smiled at him. Suddenly she couldn’t speak. It was like the words caught in her throat. She knew what she wanted to say, but she worried that she would sound uncool. So she smiled instead.

“Hey, have you decided about Thabiso’s?” he asked.

“Not yet. I’m still thinking about it. ” She smiled. She was pleased with herself, for playing hard-to-get. She didn’t want him to think that she was too easy.

“Did you hear that?” He turned to his friends. “She’ll ‘think about it’. You’d better,” he said. “You see, nobody else will do. It has to be you.”

He gave her hand a squeeze. As they got off the taxi he pulled her close to him. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

“You don’t know where I live…” she called out.

“Yes I do,” he laughed, and was gone.

* * *

Ntombi didn’t know how long she had stood in the quad before Asanda and Lettie found her. “You look like you’ve been taking drugs,” laughed Asanda. “You look like a zombie. What’s up?” She looked at Ntombi closely, then she let out a huge whoop. “Oh my God. You’re in love!” She turned to Lettie: “Ntombi’s in love.” They danced around her, teasing her. “Who is the lucky guy? Come on, tell us, we’re your best friends.”

Perhaps it would be okay, telling them, Ntombi thought. Wouldn’t they be happy for her? If they got to know him, they’d see what a sweet guy he was. She didn’t stop to think that she hadn’t got to know him yet. It felt like she had known him forever, although they had only spoken a few sentences really. “It’s Mzi,” she said looking Asanda in the eye. “And before you say anything, he’s not who you think,” she added.

“Can a leopard change his spots?” muttered Lettie.

“He’s not his brother, chommies. He didn’t do anything to Tilly – that was his brother.”

“I suppose so,” said Asanda, sounding unsure. “Lettie, maybe Ntombi’s right. We should give him a chance to prove himself.” Lettie didn’t look happy.

“I suppose he’s invited you to the party at Thabiso’s on Saturday?”

“Yes, he has.” Ntombi was so relieved that she had told them. They would all spend some time together, and then they’d see what Mzi was really like.

“Why don’t you come and have your hair braided with us? We’re going after rehearsal,” said Asanda. “You are coming to rehearsal today?”

“Yes” said Ntombi, “I promise. I’d be crazy to miss it. I mean, the audition’s next week.”

* * *

“How are the lyrics going?” It was Mr Ntlanti. He stopped in front of Ntombi on the way to his Grade 8 English class.

“I’ve got some ideas,” Ntombi lied.

“That’s good. I told Selwyn you would come up with something good.” Ntombi had a free period in second, as their Life Sciences teacher was absent, as usual. This was a stroke of luck today, because she could write down a rough draft of the lyrics. At least she’d be able to show Selwyn and the team something at their first meeting. She opened her book. There was the blank white page with lines just waiting for the words. But she couldn’t think of anything, except Mzi’s smile. It was like her brain had turned to jelly. She had never felt out of control before and it was quite frightening.

Love! Surely she could write about love? Wasn’t it what she was feeling after all?”

He winked at me….

He held my hand, he held my heart

I knew we couldn’t be apart…

I loved the way he

Surely she could do better than that? By the time the bell went she had only written four lines, and she had crossed all of them out. She would have to tell the team that she needed more time, and she’d have to work on it after school.

At break time Ntombi couldn’t help it. She found herself walking down to the sports shed where she had met Mzi the day before. She could hear voices as she approached and she heard a shout. On the street outside the school grounds a car pulled away from the curb and sped off – a silver BMW. As she rounded the shed she saw three guys with their backs to her. They were smoking, and one was counting hundred rand notes. She stood frozen. She should have turned and run, then they wouldn’t have seen her. But she couldn’t. Mzi turned and saw her first.

She raised her fingers in a small wave. He walked towards her fast, gripped her by the arm and practically pushed her back across the tarmac. It happened so quickly it took her breath away. “What were you thinking?” he hissed at her, and when she didn’t reply, he shook her. “What were you thinking? Why are you here?”

“I… just…” she stammered. “Yesterday…”

“Yesterday I asked you to be here. Did I ask you today? Did I?”

“No.” She felt tears pricking her eyes. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. All she could whisper was, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes.” His voice went soft suddenly. He shook his head. “It’s just – you gave me a fright. If those guys had caught you there…I was worried for you.”

“What were you doing?” The words came out before she could stop them.

“Some business … old stuff … something I needed to finish. It’s over now.”

Then he was gone, leaving Ntombi alone. She walked back to her girlfriends who were walking back to class. “What happened?” Asanda asked Ntombi, seeing that her friend was upset. “And what’s this?” she pointed to the marks on Ntombi’s arm that were already bruising purple.

“I fell on the stairs,” said Ntombi, then felt cold inside. It was the first time she had ever lied to her friend.

* * *

Later Ntombi was in the taxi, sandwiched between the warmth and comfort of her best friends. The incident by the sports shed was fading as they chatted. She shouldn’t have surprised Mzi like that, she told herself. He was only protecting her from the other guys. What was she thinking, stalking him like that? And there were lots of silver BMWs – it might not have been Zakes hanging around outside Harmony High.

Chapter 7

The girls walked arm in arm from the taxi to the school hall, where the rehearsals for the Teen Voice auditions were already in full swing. They could hear one of the guys singing the words to Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

“Oh my God,” said Asanda. “Listen to him. He sounds like a stuck pig.”

“Yes. If that’s the competition we’ll sail through.” It was so good to be with her friends again, joking and having a good time. It helped Ntombi forget about the shed and what had happened there. She would think about it later. There must be some explanation for why Mzi was there, why those boys had all that money, and who was in the silver BMW. She would work it out, but not now.

Once she was on the stage going through the lyrics to Respect (a classic by Aretha Franklin) she felt so good. With the mike in her hand she had the feeling that this was the only thing that mattered to her in the whole world, being on this stage and singing. It made her feel alive. So often she felt like she didn’t belong, like she had been given the wrong part – that there was another life somewhere that she was meant to be living. But here on stage, singing, she knew deep inside that this is what she was meant to do. It felt so right, and she was good at it. The other students seemed to think so too, because they applauded after she performed.

“You go girl!” shouted Asanda. Ntombi had been worried because she had missed the week when they had chosen their R&B song. But Mr Masondo came up to her after the rehearsal and handed her a sheet of music. Ntombi looked down: it was True, by Brandy.

“How did you know? I love this song,” she enthused. Mr Masondo laughed.

“I hear you humming it all the time, so it wasn’t hard to guess. If you need extra help you’ve just got to call. Here’s my number.” Ntombi entered it on her cellphone and couldn’t help noticing that there were no new messages. The thought that Mzi might never SMS her again flashed through her mind. She shouldn’t have gone down to the shed to look for him. Why had she done it, she asked herself again.

“Make sure you call so I can help you rehearse it,” Mr Masondo said. “That way you’ll have a much better chance in the auditions.”

“I promise,” said Ntombi. She quickly put her cellphone back in her pocket.

* * *

The girls walked through the streets together on their way back to Ntombi’s house. It felt like old times. They stopped at the shop and pooled their money to buy a packet of Dentyne. They laughed when a group of amarhuzu whistled at them as they passed.

“Kancane ngani! We’re out of your league, boys. Forget it!” Lettie called back to them as they turned the corner. They were princesses, idols, even before the auditions and they felt like they owned the streets. Three best friends forever. Nothing could get them down. Not tonight.

It was still light when they reached Ntombi’s, and it was warm as well. There seemed to be something in the air because everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Even Mr Mashu, who normally cursed them when they walked past his stand, was giving out free sweets to the kids. And for once Ntombi was relieved that her mother wasn’t at home. They would have the house to themselves, as Zinzi was out too. They put on the ghetto-blaster and started doing karaoke to the music, using a hairbrush as a mike. They were onto their third song when there was a knock on the door.

“That will be Hlengiwe. I told her to meet us here to do your braids,” Asanda said. Hlengiwe did the best braids south of the Limpopo, Asanda always said, and she also worked at a beauty salon that did facials and pedicures. “I’d marry you if you weren’t already married,” Asanda used to tease Hlengiwe.

“So,” Hlengiwe said, putting her bag of tricks down on the carpet and opening an album full of different hairstyles, “what’s it to be?” Ntombi settled on the twist and Hlengiwe set to work attaching the braids. They were having so much fun, chatting and listening to music that time passed quickly and soon it was dark.

As Hlengiwe was doing the last braid there was a knock at the door. Ntombi wondered who it could be. Her sister or mother wouldn’t knock because they both had keys, and she wasn’t expecting anyone. She opened the door to see Olwethu’s sister, Linkie, standing there. She looked so small and nervous that Ntombi wanted to take her in her arms and protect her. “Is this a bad time?” Linkie whispered.

“Not at all. Come inside.” Ntombi opened the door wider and let the little girl in. She was obviously frightened.

“What’s happened? Is there anything wrong? Is it your gogo?” asked Ntombi. The girl shook her head. “No, but I need to have a word with you in private,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry,” said Ntombi. “The girls were just leaving.”

“You look beautiful,” whispered Linkie.

Ntombi walked outside to say goodbye to the girls and Hlengiwe. “I’ll see you tomorrow to finish and twist, beautiful girl,” said Hlengiwe.

“We’ll come round and collect you before the party,” said Asanda. “We can all go to Thabiso’s together.” Ntombi hesitated.

“Unless you’ve got other plans?” said Lettie, looking at her accusingly.

“It’s just…”

“Speak to the hand, girlfriend. We not good enough for you all of a sudden?”

“Leave her be,” Asanda chipped in. “If she wants to go with Mzi that’s okay. We’ll see her there.”

“You trust him to pitch?” said Lettie. “Rather you than me.” Ntombi didn’t want what had been a great afternoon to end in an argument. She gave Lettie a hug.

“I’ll see you guys there,” she said. “Now I have to go and see what Linkie needs.”

Lettie took her hand and looked in her eyes; she was serious. “Just be careful tomorrow night,” she said, and then she joined Asanda who was waving down a taxi.

* * *

Before Ntombi went back inside, a cellphone message beeped in her pocket.

Thinking of u – cant wait to c u 2moro…Mzi

It was as if Mzi had heard them talking. Ntombi found herself looking up and down the street, half expecting Mzi to come walking around the corner. But there was no one. The girls had gone and the street was empty. She went back inside and closed the door. He hadSMSed. Why had she worried so much? She should have trusted him. And now she felt that warmth inside again, like a secret smile. Lettie was wrong, she thought. Linkie came and took her hand.

“I wish I could have braids like you,” she said.

“One day you can have any hairstyle you want to,” said Ntombi confidently.

“I don’t know. I will have to get money first,” said Linkie.

“Will you promise me something?” said Ntombi.

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you’ll finish school.”

Linkie nodded. “I promise,” she whispered.

“Good,” said Ntombi. “Now what can I do for you?”

“It’s a bit embarrassing.” Linkie stared at the floor. “You see, Olwethu doesn’t know I’m here.”

“It’s about him?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly Ntombi felt worried. “Has anything happened to him?”

Linkie shook her head. “No. Well, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t know how to say this.” Linkie was studying her shoes carefully. “You see I think Olwethu would kill me if he knew I was here talking to you, and that I was about to tell you that…”

“That?”

“That he really likes you, and I know he wants to invite you to the party at Thabiso’s tomorrow. But he’s just too shy to ask. So I thought I’d…” she said all in a rush, and then looked up expectantly. Ntombi felt her heart sink to her shoes. How could she tell Linkie that she was going to Thabiso’s with someone else – one of the coolest guys at school? She really didn’t want to hurt Olwethu, or this girl with all the hope shining out of her eyes. But she had to.

“Listen, Linkie,” she said, sitting down beside her on the couch and taking her hands.

“You know I really like Olwethu?”

“Yes,” said Linkie, her eyes glowing. “That’s what I thought. Oh, I knew I was right to come here.”

“I really like him but …” How could Ntombi explain this? “I like him as a friend, not as a boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Linkie looked confused.

“Olwethu’s great! We chat. I like spending time with him…but…”

“Yes, that’s why I thought to come. You see, I could tell you really liked chatting and each other’s company…” She looked like she was thinking about something. “You don’t think he’s good looking – is that why?”

“No, I do. It’s just that…” How could she explain chemistry to a ten-year-old?

“I think I understand,” said Linkie standing up. “And don’t worry.” She turned to Ntombi. “I won’t tell him.”

“Thanks,” said Ntombi walking to the door with Linkie, and waving goodbye. She felt terrible. But what could she do? Why couldn’t life be simple?

Chapter 8

By six o’clock the next evening Ntombi was in such a state she didn’t know what she was going to say to Mzi. What if the conversation ran out? “Just be yourself,” said her mother. That was just great, thought Ntombi, coming from her mother, who hadn’t been herself since she met Zakes.

In fact, when Mzi arrived, Ntombi thought it

was Zakes. He was driving an identical silver BMW, the only difference being that his didn’t have a Pirates bumper sticker. Her mother thought it was Zakes too. She went out to greet him, and was met by Mzi.

“Oh, I thought you were my boyfriend,” said her mother. “I mean…”

“Oh God. How embarrassing,” thought Ntombi as she introduced them. “Mzi, this is my mother.”

Her mother looked confused. She asked Mzi, “Do you know Zakes? He drives a car exactly the same as yours.”

“Mama!” Ntombi wanted to disappear into the ground.

“Zakes. No, I don’t know any Zakes,” said Mzi quickly. “I borrowed this car from my cousin.” Ntombi got into the car as fast as she could. She needed to get away before her mother embarrassed her any more. So what if Mzi drove the same car as Zakes?

“Let’s go, Mzi! Bye Mama,” she called out to her mother, who was shouting questions about when she was coming home. Too late for that, Mama, she thought. She leaned back. Here she was, being driven by the hottest boy in matric out on a date. It felt unreal.

* * *

Mzi turned to Ntombi. “Hey, your mother seems great.” Ntombi felt a wave of relief flood over her. “And you look really cool. Nice!” he added. Talk, Ntombi told herself. Don’t just sit there in awkward silence. Think of something to say.

“Something cool happened at school,” she started.

“Cool things can happen at school?” Mzi laughed.

“Well, I was asked to write a song for the school mag.” But Ntombi could see that Mzi wasn’t listening. He was distracted and had started SMSing while he was driving. Ntombi knew this was dangerous. Mr Dlamini had an accident while SMSing and four people in the other car were killed. But she dared not say anything as Mzi swerved and hooted at cars while texting.

Then he pulled over. They were at the back of what Ntombi knew to be one of the rougher shebeens in the neighbourhood. This was definitely not Thabiso’s, where the party was being held. An old sign hung on one nail: Mama’s Tavern.

“I thought…” she turned to him. But before she could finish Mzi flashed one of his melting smiles.

“Don’t worry. I’m just picking up some beers for the road.” He leapt out of the car.

* * *

He had been gone for a few minutes and some guys were approaching the car. Ntombi felt nervous. She got out and looked around for Mzi. She wanted to find him, but she was anxious to leave the car unlocked at the same time. There was a gap in the corrugated iron at the back of the shebeen and she peered through it. She could see Mzi talking to someone, but she couldn’t see who, as crates of beers were stacked to the ceiling. But then the man laughed. Hadn’t she heard that laugh many times before, and often at her own expense? Ntombi quickly ran back to the car and jumped inside. She didn’t admit it to herself, but she was frightened of what Mzi would do if he caught her spying on him. And she was far away from any friends. She pretended that she had been SMSing when he got back in the car.

“Hey baby girl, why don’t you open me a beer for the road.” Mzi reached back and handed her a quart and a bottle opener. “Do you know how proud I am to be going to the party with such a hot babe like you?”

The compliments felt so good. Ntombi opened him a beer and handed it to him.

“Drinking and driving…” he laughed, and then took a swig. Just as they turned onto the road that led to Thabiso’s, a silver BMW overtook them, hooting. Ntombi saw the Pirates bumper sticker flashing in the sunset.

“And the police would pull me over for drinking and driving?” Mzi laughed. “Look at that idiot.” Mzi put his foot down. They were flying along and he only had one hand on the steering wheel. Ntombi wanted to say something, to ask him to slow down, but at the same time she didn’t want to spoil his fun. She was relieved when they pulled up outside Thabiso’s. “Bezibila in the party,” said Mzi. He was right, the place was cooking. There were taxis and cars and crowds of people. As Ntombi got out she scanned the crowd for Asanda and Lettie, but there were too many people.

Mzi put his arm around her as they wove through the crowd. He greeted friends as they made their way towards the door. Ntombi felt proud to be with him. Obviously he knew a lot of people and the girls looked envious as she passed. She could almost hear them thinking, “I wonder what she’s got to be Mzi’s new girl?” As they were queuing to go in she heard Lettie and Asanda, further back in the queue.

“Hey chommie,” they chanted together, “you look so hot!” Ntombi turned and smiled and they waved at her. She was torn. She couldn’t leave Mzi’s side, especially now that he had his arm around her and they were about to go in. But at the same time she really wanted to be with her friends. She waved, but before she could tell them to meet her inside, Mzi was pulling her with him through the crowd into the club. It was too late.

Chapter 9

The party was pumping and there were dancing bodies everywhere. Ntombi was dazzled by the strobe lights and couldn’t see anyone clearly. She had to hold onto Mzi to stop getting crushed in the crowd. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and wasn’t fazed by the bodies or the noise. They wove their way between the dancers to the bar, where Mzi ordered a cider for her. Ntombi had tasted beer before, and a sip of wine, but she had never drunk a whole drink on her own, and she didn’t know if she should, or could.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who don’t drink, don’t smoke and don’t have any fun,” said Mzi, picking up on her hesitation. Ntombi took another sip. The drink was really strong and burned all the way down her throat. “That’s better,” said Mzi. “I don’t want a girlfriend who’s an imathakazi.” Ntombi took another sip. This time it went down easier. “Good isn’t it?” Mzi laughed. “Get used to it, baby. This is just the beginning.” In the time she had a few sips he had finished another beer. “Come on baby. Let’s dance,” said Mzi. He took her glass from her and said something to the bartender. “Don’t worry it will be there waiting for you,” he said, pulling her close against his body. He was warm and strong, and it felt good dancing with him. She could get lost in the music and just the feel his arms around her. It was a slow number and she wanted to stay like this forever. But the song ended, and soon they were back at the bar. Mzi handed her the cider again. She closed her eyes and drank it down in big gulps because she wanted to get it over with. The taste made her feel a bit sick, but she couldn’t tell Mzi.

“Wow,” he said, “that was quick. I didn’t know you had it in you.” There was a new respect in his voice and Ntombi felt confident suddenly. It wasn’t so bad. In fact she could even drink another if she had to. Just then one of the boys Ntombi had seen with Mzi down at the shed swaggered up with his girlfriend. She was wearing incredibly high stilettos and the tightest jeans Ntombi had ever seen. Ntombi smiled at her but she didn’t smile back.

“So this is how it is going to be,” thought Ntombi, and scanned the crowd for her own friends, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“So, this is your new girl,” said Mzi’s friend Vusi, running his eyes over Ntombi from top to toe, appreciatively. Mzi leant over and kissed Ntombi’s cheek. His lips were soft and the kiss was tender.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” said Mzi. “Don’t get any ideas,” he warned his friend. Vusi laughed but his girlfriend gave Ntombi a withering look.

“Hey, there’s something I want to show you,” Vusi told Mzi. “Can I prise you away from Ntombi for just one minute? It’s important.”

Mzi turned to Ntombi: “You’re a big girl,” he said, winking. “I won’t be long. Priscilla here will keep you company.” Priscilla opened her mouth to object. But the two guys were gone, weaving their way between the dancing bodies until Ntombi couldn’t see them anymore. Ntombi smiled at Priscilla; perhaps she was just shy, and with the guys gone maybe she wouldn’t feel so threatened?

“So, do you also go to Harmony High?” she asked Priscilla. “I don’t think I’ve seen you.” Priscilla made a disgusted sound.

“Do I really look like I’m a schoolgirl?” she asked Ntombi, then she turned to the bartender and clicked her fingers. Ntombi saw the longest, reddest nails she had ever seen. “Bring me a Spin,” said Priscilla and turned back to Ntombi. “He’s going to dump you – know that,” she said bluntly. “Have you asked yourself why Mzi’s going out with a little schoolgirl like yourself? He wouldn’t have picked such a mama’s baby without a good reason.” And with that she was gone, leaving Ntombi alone at the bar.

* * *

Ntombi’s chest suddenly felt tight like she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs. It was a horrible, panicky feeling. Her palms started to sweat and her head began to spin. It must be the drink, thought Ntombi. She had to get out into some fresh air before she fainted. People would dance over her, stand on her face, crush her fingers into the dance floor. She thought of Priscilla’s spiky stilettos and started to push her way through the bodies. But she didn’t know which way the exit was. There were so many people and it was dark. The only lights came from the spinning silver disco balls, which she suddenly hated. This wasn’t fun any more. She needed to get out. And where was Mzi? He said he would only be a few minutes, but it seemed like he had been gone for hours. She pushed and fought her way to what she thought was the exit door, but when she got there, she saw that it was the ladies’ toilets.

At least she could get away from the noise and the crush. But the smell was overpowering and suddenly she felt sick. She ran into the toilet and threw up. Then she began to cry. She just wanted to be at home, and wash herself clean. “Take a deep breath,” she told herself. “Pull yourself together. You are stronger than this!” The survivor in her began to take over. She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror. Then she took a tissue from her bag and cleaned the running make-up from around her eyes. That was better. She took three more deep breaths and made her way back out into the party, sticking to the wall to guide her around to the exit on the far side.

She was nearly there when she saw Mzi. He was standing with his back to her. She went closer and saw that he was chatting to a girl, and that the girl was laughing at what he was saying. Ntombi saw, with a sinking feeling, that the girl was very pretty and was obviously flirting with Mzi. As she watched in horror, Mzi stroked the girl’s cheek and leant and whispered something in her ear. She pretended to be shocked at what he was saying, then giggled. Ntombi froze. Part of her wanted to disappear into the crowd and leave. Part of her wanted to confront Mzi. The choice was made for her as Mzi, as though he sensed her, spun around.

“Hey babe, there you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Ntombi’s eyes flicked between the girl and Mzi.

“Meet Thumi. Isn’t she cute? She’s Vusi’s younger sister. I was just telling her about you.” Thumi looked like the cat that got the cream as she smiled at Ntombi, all innocently.

“I need some air,” said Ntombi, feeling faint again. “I’m going outside.”

* * *

Ntombi pushed forward through the crowd. She didn’t know whether Mzi was following her. She didn’t want to turn around; she just wanted to keep moving forward. When she was outside in the dark she felt a hand on her upper arm, gripping her so hard that it hurt. Mzi spun her around. He was angry and drunk and they were all alone out here in the parking lot. She leant against the car behind her, to steady herself.

“What was that?” He spat the words out. She looked at him unable to speak. He shook her. “I said,” he hissed between gritted teeth, “what was that in there? If you are going to behave like a jealous girlfriend…” His face was close against hers and she could smell the beer on his breath. The other, sweet, charming Mzi was gone, and this violent stranger had taken his place. Then he stood back, like he was trying to compose himself. He slammed his fist into his palm.

“Mzi?” she said. She could see he was trying to control himself.

“Just give me a minute,” he said, taking a breath and walking away from her. She stood there shivering. Then he turned to face her again. “I’m going inside to get you a drink. I want you to wait out here for a few minutes. Give me some time to cool off. When you come back in, we’ll pretend this never happened. Understood?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good.” Then he came up and hugged her. “You have no reason to be jealous.” He tilted her head up with his finger in a gentle gesture. The scary Mzi was gone. “Thumi is just a friend. And she’s got a boyfriend. In fact they are probably dancing in each other’s arms right now. She’s been going through a rough time and I was just trying to cheer her up and make her feel good again. That’s all.”

Then he was gone. Ntombi felt bad. She hadbeen rude to Thumi – she hadn’t even greeted her. And after Priscilla, perhaps she had mistaken Thumi’s smile. Perhaps she really was trying to be friendly, and she wasn’t after Mzi. This was so complicated – and it had got complicated so fast. Love wasn’t meant to be like this with all this insecurity and jealousy. Why couldn’t it be like the words of those songs where it’s all happy ever after, always.

Chapter 10

Ntombi looked at her watch; ten minutes had passed. It was time to go back into the party. When she reached the bar Mzi was all smiles. He put his arms around her in front of Thumi, who was chatting to another boy, and pulled her onto the dance floor.

“It’s only you,” he whispered into her ear as he pressed her against him. “Hop on my feet,” he said.

“What?”

“Get on my feet, I’ll take you for a ride.” Ntombi stepped up onto Mzi’s shoes. Luckily she wasn’t wearing high heels, but pumps. She laughed. He moved around slowly. She felt his lips against her neck, and closed her eyes. Perhaps he was right. She could forget everything that had happened before. She could start again, in this moment, in his arms. When the song ended he took her head in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “I love dancing with you,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here, shall we?” She nodded.

* * *

On the way out she felt a hand pulling her back. Mzi was ahead of her making for the door, with a sudden urgency. Ntombi turned back. It was Lettie. “Hey chommie,” she said. “Come and dance with us. We’ve asked the DJ to play one of our old favourites. Everyone will be watching us.”

It was their favourite song, and they had even rehearsed their moves to it. They started taking over the dance floor, moving across it like they owned it. They would definitely be noticed. Mzi would think she was cool and he would be even prouder of her. But Mzi was already out of the door. Ntombi pulled away from them.

“I can’t,” she called. “I’ve got to go.”

“Where?” asked Lettie. “The fun’s only just starting.”

“Mzi is taking me home.”

“So early?” Ntombi saw the look of alarm on Lettie’s face. “That’s not like him.”

“How do you know?” Ntombi didn’t hear the answer, as Mzi reappeared in the exit and beckoned to her to join him. Lettie was lost in the crowd, so Ntombi joined Mzi and was steered quickly to his car. They got in, in silence. But he didn’t start the car immediately. He put a CD in the player. It was Lira, singing Ngiyazi fela.

“That’s going to be you one day soon,” said Mzi, and he put his arm around Ntombi. So he had listened when she told him about the auditions. There was obviously just a lot on his mind at the moment. She shouldn’t judge him. There could be problems at home that she knew nothing about – she knew what that was like, how it affected everything.

He started the car and wove his way between the jam of traffic to get out onto the open road. She was tired now. It had been a wild evening and she had felt out of her depth, she just needed some time alone in her room. Perhaps her sister would be asleep, and her mother would be out when they got back. She just needed some time to think things through and make sense of what had happened at the party. But instead of turning left to take the road back to her house, Mzi turned right and they were soon spinning down

* * *

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Somewhere special. One of my favourite places,” he said, smiling at her. “I wanted to show you. It means a lot to me.” That was so romantic. It was the kind of thing that Ntombi had read about in books. She smiled to herself. Perhaps he just wasn’t good in crowds. It was going to be alright. The evening was going to end well. But when he turned off the tar onto a dirt track that led down between tall trees to a small river, Ntombi felt anxious again. It was so isolated, so dark and remote. He stopped the car and they sat in silence for a minute.

“Look at the moon,” he said. “Let’s get out. It’s still warm.” They got out of the car and Mzi led her down to an old bench next to a trickle of water. Not so much a river as a polluted stream with litter washed up on the bank. Mzi put his arm around her. Ntombi leaned back and looked up. She would just forget the rubbish and look at the moon and stars. At least nobody could pollute them - not yet, anyway.

Mzi pulled her closer. Then he started kissing her. At first gently, and she felt herself melting in his arms. But then his kissing got more frantic and rougher. And his hands had pushed under her top and his fingers were busy trying to undo her bra. She pulled away. But he stood up and pulled her back against him. He pulled her bra off in one jerk and his hands were fumbling over her breasts. Then his hands were under her skirt. This was getting too heavy. Way too heavy.

“Mzi!” she tried to push away. “Mzi, stop!” she said louder. “Stop… stop or…”

“Or what? You’ll scream? Nobody will hear you. Besides, I know that trick. Girls always say ‘no, no, no’ when they really mean ‘yes’.”

“I do mean no.” But the words came out as a whisper as he started kissing her neck again.

“Okay, we’ll take it more slowly then,” he said. Then he stopped and looked at her with a look of what – scorn – on his face? “You’re not going to tell me this is your first time?” he asked. “Please don’t tell me you’re a virgin still.” Her silence gave him the answer.

“I’m only fifteen,” whispered Ntombi.

“Fifteen! What’s taken you so long?” Mzi laughed.

“I just… I just… I’m not ready…” said Ntombi.

“You just think you’re not ready. What you need is a guy like me. Do you know how lucky you are to have me for your first time?” She looked at the moon. She couldn’t look at his face. “Do you know how many girls…” he stopped. “Ok, look…” he stepped back. “Maybe I came on a little too strong… it’s just that I find you irresistible, girlfriend. You’re the sexiest…”

* * *

Ntombi didn’t know afterwards what would have happened if a car hadn’t driven down the track towards them with the headlights beamed straight at them. They were caught like startled animals in the beam.

“Shit,” said Mzi “Let’s get out of here.” They ran to the car, jumped in, and he reversed at speed back along the dirt track. There was a squeal of tyres as he spun the car on the tar and headed back towards the township. He turned the music up really loud, but Ntombi didn’t mind. She didn’t mind how fast he drove either, even though she knew it was dangerous and that he was way over the drunk-driving limit. The faster she could get home the better now. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him, she just didn’t want things to move so fast. Did it have to be all or nothing?

When they pulled up outside her house Mzi killed the music and took her hand.

“Ntombi. You’re a great girl, but …” There it was: that but, the word every girl dreaded. “Okay, so maybe tonight wasn’t the right time.” He took her hand and kissed it. “But I hope you’re not going to hold out on me for too long, because those kind of girls get really boring after a very short time. Those girls don’t deserve boyfriends like me. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Ntombi looked at him. He was smiling at her gently. She was so confused: how could he be so moody? Aggressive one minute, sweet the next? She smiled back at him. “I had a good time,” she found herself saying. “Thank you.” He stroked her cheek and then kissed it, gently.

Then he walked her to the door. “I’ll SMS you,” he said. She waved as he drove off into the night.

When she went inside her mother was sitting on the couch. “What time do you think this is?” She was angry. “And who was that guy?”

“Mzi, Mama. Remember, you met him already. Has everyone gone crazy? You knew I was going to the party.”

“I thought you were meeting up with your friends.”

“I did,” said Ntombi. It was partly true. She really didn’t want to get into this now with her mother. All she wanted to do was sleep. “And anyway,” Ntombi couldn’t stop herself, “who are you to ask me where I’ve been and what time I think this is?”

The slap came so fast it took Ntombi by surprise. Her cheek stung.

“Don’t forget who is the adult and who is the child here!” Her mother was furious.

There were tears in Ntombi’s eyes. All she wanted was for her mother to hug her, and say it would be alright. Instead her mother was attacking her. She’d almost had enough for one night – but there was still a little fight left in her. “Anyway,” Ntombi said, “I saw Zakes at Mama’s Tavern.” This wasn’t quite true, but she was so sure that it was his laugh she had heard.

“What were you doing there?” her mother said. “Don’t you know that’s not a place for kids?” Ntombi couldn’t take any more. She ran into their room and hid herself under the blankets, exhausted, and cried.

Am enjoying it more updates please

Chapter 11

Ntombi lay in bed with her cellphone in her hand. Her head was spinning from the drink she’d had at the party. She clung onto her phone like a lifeline in the dark – a lifeline of love to her friends and safety. If only she had her father’s cellphone number, everything would be okay. She needed his advice right now. What had happened at the party had been so confusing. Mzi was confusing. She couldn’t make him out. When he was being sweet and sensitive she felt so proud to be his girlfriend, but when that angry wall went up, and she couldn’t reach the kindness in Mzi anymore, he frightened her. Why couldn’t he be content to kiss her? Why did guys always want more? Maybe she just didn’t understand them? If her dad were here, he could give her some good advice, advice her mother was too busy to bother with.

And then there was love. Why couldn’t love just be good? Why couldn’t it just be simple? She finally fell asleep with these thoughts swirling around in her head. She wanted so badly for things to work out with Mzi, for things to be different and romantic, like in the movies…

As she slid down into her dreams she tried to see Mzi’s face; she wanted to take him into the dream with her. At least there things could be perfect. They could walk hand in hand on warm white sand; next to a tropical sea on some paradise island; lie on the beach, his fingers lightly tracing across her face, her arms; his warm lips pressing down on hers, gently. His breath warm and sweet in her ear, against her hair. “I love you,” he would whisper, “and I always will.” They would talk for hours. He would help her with the lyrics for her first song. She would blot out what had happened down at the river. She would dream up a different ending to the night.

But where she went in her dream she couldn’t control. And however hard she tried to pull Mzi down with her into her dream, as soon as she was asleep she couldn’t hold onto him anymore. And soon the dream became a nightmare. The paradise island was replaced by somewhere noisy, and filled with fluorescent lights. She was standing backstage in a dressing room, and all she could feel was a terrible knot in her stomach. She could hear someone singing on the stage, which must be through the door in front of her. The singing stopped and she heard clapping and cheering. A woman who was doing make-up and hair sat her down in front of a mirror. She started smoothing Ntombi’s hair and putting in clips. “We’d better hurry,” she said. “You’re on in ten minutes.”

Just then the door to the stage opened and Lettie came running down the stairs. “That was fantastic,” she said. “They just loved me. Did you hear them cheering?” she asked Ntombi, then blew her a kiss and disappeared. Ntombi wanted to stop her, talk to her. Was this a concert? Was this the audition that would get her into the Teen Voice final? Where was she? And what had happened to Mzi?

She suddenly felt sick and had to run to the toilet, where she threw up. Ugh! She looked at her face in the mirror – she was all made-up. She didn’t look like herself anymore. Where had the real Ntombi gone? She just wanted to be herself again. But when she came out, the stylist was ooing and aahing.

“Where have you been? You’re up girl. Good luck. You look beautiful! Much better than before. Not that you weren’t pretty...” her voice trailed off.

* * *

Ntombi was walking out onto a huge stage. The lights were dazzling and blinded her. Every step she took she thought she would fall over in the ridiculous high heels the stylist had squashed onto her feet before she went on. This was not how she wanted it to be – how she had planned. She was going to wear a simple, beautiful dress with flat sandals, and very little make-up, to the auditions. She would be true to herself, not some fake. But here she was in this frilly ridiculous dress, and shoes that made her trip and lurch forward towards the mike that was waiting for her in the middle of the stage.

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, holding the mike, when she heard a cough off stage. She turned. “Cue music,” the man mouthed. The audience had gone silent.

Then the music came on. Ntombi felt better; she knew this song so well. She could do this. Her eyes had adjusted to the lights and she could pick out people in the audience. There was her mother, with something weird in her hair, waving and blowing her kisses, there was Zakes slouched back in the next seat with his arms folded on his beer belly.

In her dream Ntombi started to sing. It was beautiful; she could see on the faces of the audience that they were amazed. There was no doubt that she would be singing her way into the final.

Her eyes moved slowly across the crowds and then stopped. And in that second her voice stopped too. Her mouth was open but no sound came out, however hard she tried; and even worse, she had forgotten the words to the song. There in the audience, right near the back of the hall, sat Mzi – and next to him sat Thumi, and his arm was around her. He wasn’t even looking at Ntombi. His head was bent and he was kissing Thumi on the neck, and she was smiling up at Ntombi – that “cat who got the cream” smile. Suddenly the audience was booing. Then someone in the front row stood up and shouted, “Get her off! Get her off!”

Then she was falling...

* * *

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Zinzi was shaking her. Ntombi sat up in bed.

“Where am I?” she shouted.

“Ssh, you’ll wake Mama,” said Zinzi. “God girl, you must have been having a really bad nightmare. You nearly knocked me out, you were thrashing around so much.” Ntombi’s heart was still racing. She told herself to breathe deeply. “And anyway, what’s that stink? Have you been drinking?” Zinzi asked, disgusted, then pulled the blanket over her head. “Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

The evening came flooding back to Ntombi. Her head suddenly hurt really badly and she felt nauseous. She walked through into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, then sat curled up under a blanket on the couch. There was no way she could get back to sleep now. She was too scared she’d go back onto that stage and have to face the audience again.

She had heard somewhere that dreams never lied. Was this a warning? Was Mzi with Thumi right now? Was she going to mess up her audition? She promised herself that from that minute on she would start rehearsing every day until the audition. But what about Mzi? Hadn’t he told her that Thumi was a friend who was just going through a rough time? Why am I so insecure? Ntombi asked herself. Insecure girls lose their boyfriends because they become too clingy and jealous. Wasn’t that what had happened to her friend Prudence, last year?

Prudence had started going out with this guy and it was all a dream come true. They were never apart. But then, after two weeks she started getting suspicious. She got hold of his cellphone and started to check through his messages, accusing him of SMSing other girls. He had shouted at her for invading his privacy. She had pleaded with him, and said she wouldn’t do it again, if he would only promise her that he wasn’t seeing anyone else. He had promised but it wasn’t enough. She had started stalking him everywhere he went until he couldn’t take it anymore and broke up with her – it was a mess.

No, Ntombi refused to be like that. She would trust Mzi. She would not be the clingy girlfriend. She’d give him the space he needed to sort things out. Then things would be different. But by nine o’clock, when everyone was up and having breakfast, Ntombi’s resolve had started to weaken. She had already checked her cellphone a few times to see if there were any new messages. Her mom must have seen her checking her cellphone because she came and wrapped her arms around Ntombi and kissed the top of her head. “You know that watching your phone isn’t going to make him call,” she said and laughed.

“I wasn’t,” Ntombi protested, but then she laughed. It felt so good to have her mother’s arms around her, and the old teasing, fun mother back again. She knew that this was her mother’s way of saying sorry for her angry slap the night before.

“Yes, I’m not too old to remember what it was like. The first love,” said her mother. “You know, when I met your dad I couldn’t eat or sleep for a week. I was a real mess. Of course in those days we didn’t have cellphones. We didn’t have any phones. No, I had to wait to see him in church on Sundays. It was torture.”

“So Dad was your first love?” asked Zinzi.

“Is that so surprising? He was very romantic your dad, when he...”

“Ugh...” said Zinzi. “Too much information.”

“I was going to say that he used to sing for me as he came down the street. He didn’t care if people laughed. He had a very good voice, your father.”

“Like Romeo and Juliet, serenading,” said Ntombi. “Don’t you miss him?” It was out before Ntombi could stop herself. She could see the expression change on her mother’s face as she stood up and went to the kitchen.

“Much good missing him will do me,” she muttered. Ntombi felt a glimmer of hope, somewhere deep inside. That part of her mother was still reachable, the part that loved her dad. She could hear it in her mother’s voice. There was hope.

Just then there was a familiar sound outside the door. A giggle of girls.

“The giraffes have arrived,” announced Zinzi.

Chapter 12

Lettie, Asanda and Busi came barging through the door, singing one of the audition songs. They looked tired, and still had make-up on, smudged from the party. But they looked happy. “Hey chommie. How’s the head this morning? Where did you disappear to last night? We were looking for you. Lettie said Mzi was taking you home?” They all spoke at once as they grouped around Ntombi in the kitchen.

“Ssh!” Ntombi tried to get them to shut up.

“Come on then,” they said, as they dragged her outside. “We want to hear all about it.” Outside, the light hurt Ntombi’s eyes and she was still feeling fragile. What was in that drink Mzi had given her?

“So...?” Lettie handed Ntombi a cooldrink she had bought at the spaza shop. “Did he kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And was it the stars and more…” they all sang together. Ntombi had never been good at lying, and now her confusion must have showed all over her face because Lettie and Asanda were suddenly frowning.

“What? Did he do something to you? You have to tell us, Ntombi.” They moved closer around her, protectively.

“No, it’s just … you know, love. It’s confusing.” Ntombi knew she sounded lame.

“You’re not sure about Mzi? I told you to be careful of him,” said Lettie.

“I think there was a lot on his mind,” Ntombi said quickly.

“Sounds like you’re making excuses for him,” said Lettie. “It’s simple. Either he treated you right or he didn’t.”

“He’s having a hard time at home,” Ntombi said, not looking into Lettie’s eyes.

“Well, has he called you to thank you for the date?” said Asanda. “I always think politeness is underrated.”

“And kindness,” said Lettie.

“Yes,” said Ntombi. “He SMSed me this morning.” It was the second lie she had told her friends. But she couldn’t face their pity. She couldn’t face admitting that she had heard nothing from Mzi since he dropped her off. She knew that if she told them what he had done after the party, they would make it impossible for her to see him again, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet.

“Come on, let’s go rehearse,” she said, trying to change the subject. “Mr Masondo said he’d be at the hall at twelve, and there are only five more days until the audition.”

“Now that sounds like a good idea,” said Busi. “I really want to see Unathi again. You know he danced with me last night.” The others rolled their eyes at her.

Live your own life, Ntombi told herself as they walked arm in arm down the road. But then she added to her thoughts: if he hasn’t called by this evening you can SMS him.

* * *

The rehearsal went really well, and by the time the girls left the hall they all felt on top of the world. They sang their way back along the street until they were breathless and laughing. Then Asanda pointed to a newspaper banner: HIJACKED AND LEFT FOR DEAD.

“Did you hear about Abongile’s brother?” she asked. “You know, the one who dropped out of school. Got involved in stealing cars. This older guy, he promised him fast cars, money and everything. Then he was arrested. And the older guy said that he’d be killed if he said anything about him.”

Ntombi remembered the brother. He had always been laughing and joking. Now he would be stuck in jail. Busi nudged her. “Stop looking so serious, chommie. Life happens.”

* * *

But when she was back alone in her house, after the others had left, the good feeling of being together with the girls, doing something she loved, had worn off. Her moods swung like a yo-yo today. Suddenly she felt really down. Mzi still hadn’t SMSed her. Why didn’t he call? Had something bad happened to him? Had he been involved in an accident? She thought of Zakes. Was he like the man Abongile’s brother had worked for? Maybe he had trapped Mzi into working for him. Hadn’t she seen his car down by the sports shed? Mzi drove an identical BMW and she had heard that familiar laugh at Mama’s Tavern. Perhaps Mzi had got into something with Zakes that he couldn’t get out of.

Ten minutes later Ntombi couldn’t bear it. She needed to do something. She couldn’t just sit waiting; she would end up doing something she would regret, like calling him. She put on her jacket and went outside to clear her head. Before she knew it she found her feet taking her to Olwethu’s house. She was looking for some distraction and comfort and she knew she would find it there. At his door, she hesitated. Was it fair to go to him for sympathy when she hadn’t gone to the party with him? Wouldn’t it be rubbing salt in a wound? And what would his sister Linkie think of her? But she couldn’t go back to her house alone, so she knocked.

Linkie answered the door with a huge grin and Ntombi felt immediately better. “You have to tell me all about the party,” Linkie said. “Was it great? Did you dance all night?”

“It was great but...” Ntombi hesitated, scanning the room for Olwethu, but he wasn’t there. His granny, who was sitting in the corner knitting, looked up. Her eyes were kind and Ntombi felt that she saw everything.

“It wasn’t all you hoped for?” she suggested gently.

“No Gogo. It’s just… well… I’m confused,” blurted out Ntombi, and found she was trying hard not to start crying.

“Is it your first love?” the granny asked kindly. Ntombi nodded.

“Love can be very confusing – and exhausting,” she laughed. “Always trying to guess what the boy’s feeling or thinking. What does this mean? What did he mean when he said that?”

“Yes,” said Ntombi. “One minute he’s really sweet, the other he’s so hard and angry.” The granny looked up quickly.

“Well, that doesn’t sound right,” she said. Ntombi found herself telling the granny everything, and when she finished there were tears in her eyes but she felt much better. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off her. Granny was holding her hand and stroking it gently. “Sounds like this boy doesn’t respect you,” she said. “I know it’s old fashioned, but kindness and respect are very important. It also sounds like you need a cup of tea. Linkie, put the kettle on.”

Just then the door opened and Olwethu came in. Ntombi tried to wipe away her tears, but he saw that she had been crying. His look of excitement at seeing her quickly changed to worry.

“What did he do?” he asked and his voice was rough with concern. Ntombi shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just tired. Your gogo has been very kind.”

“Did Mzi hurt you?” Olwethu sat down next to her, and when she didn’t answer he said: “I knew he was no good.”

“It’s not like that,” Ntombi said, but it was like Olwethu didn’t hear her. He stood up and started pacing around the small room. “He’s going through a difficult time,” Ntombi said. “There’s a reason why...”

“Difficult time? Is that what he called it?” Olwethu spat the words out. He was looking stressed.

“What is it?” said Ntombi, knowing there was something more.

“Zakes brought another car in to be sprayed. He told my uncle there were four more on their way. My uncle said he didn’t want to do any more spraying for Zakes, but then they went into the office and when they came out Zakes left saying he would collect the BMW the next day. When I asked my uncle what had happened he just told me not to ask questions – just to start spraying the car. I knew he was protecting me. He looked frightened. Then today, who comes by but the police. Told my uncle that they are after the leader of a gang of car thieves. Five new BMWs had been stolen in one week. They were going around all the panel shops, to see if the cars had been brought in.”

Ntombi thought of Zakes’ laugh. Had he been talking to Mzi at the tavern? Had he been promising him money and cars if he worked for him? It couldn’t have been a coincidence that he happened to overtake them on the way to the party.

Chapter 13

It was all over. Mzi hadn’t called Ntombi in twenty-four hours – he had just disappeared. He was in with Zakes - in too deep - and he was in trouble. Ntombi was sure of it. When she had got home from Olwethu’s she had tried to call him but all she had got was: “The person you want to speak to is not available. Please try again later.”

It felt like a slap in the face. Her instincts were to try again, to keep on calling until he picked up the phone, but she stopped herself. She switched off the phone that was driving her crazy with no new messages from him. But after the news from Olwethu she needed to know the truth. Where was he? Unavailable on some illegal mission with Zakes? Right this minute was Zakes holding a gun to some innocent person’s head and demanding that they get out the car? Perhaps Zakes had asked Mzi to drive the BMW in to the panel shop, or else… And if Mzi had refused?

She could go to his house and check if he was okay, but she didn’t even know where he lived. She suddenly realised with a shock that she didn’t know much about Mzi at all – besides the things her friends had said. She didn’t know what stuff he liked doing, what his favourite music was, what his dreams were. And what did he know of her? How could he say he adored her, when he didn’t even know her? Was it just how she looked? Did he care what she was like inside?

She thought of Priscilla’s words at the disco: “Be careful… Why would Mzi go out with a girl like you? … He does everything for a reason…”

And when she had tried to tell him about the singing competition and how she had been asked to write lyrics, she wasn’t sure he had even heard her. He had been so distracted. But what did her father say? “Never judge a book by the cover.” She couldn’t judge him before she knew the truth, and she needed to hear it from him. Perhaps the way he wanted more when they were down at the river was normal. After all she had never even really kissed a boy before.

As if to echo her mood it had started to rain outside. This was really going to be a blue Sunday. She watched as a group of girls she recognised from school walked past on their way to church. If she had been feeling better she would have joined them, but how could she pretend to be happy when all she wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and go back to sleep?

Her mother and sister were all dressed up in their church clothes and Zakes was joining them. That was the worst, thought Ntombi. What a liar he was. He would go to church, pretend to care, and then go out and hijack some innocent person. In fact, speaking of the devil, Zakes had just driven up and was opening the car doors for her mother and sister to get in. It made Ntombi sick.

She watched as they drove off. Just then Olwethu came around the corner, and it looked like he was headed for her house. Ntombi quickly went to brush her hair and clean her teeth. She didn’t want him to see her like this – a mess over a boy she knew he didn’t trust. She was ready for him when he knocked on the door. “Not at church?” he laughed.

“Speak for yourself,” she joked back. It was good to laugh. It felt like forever that she had been caught in anxiety and confusion.

“Do you think Zakes thinks he can pray for forgiveness and everything will be fine – as easy as pressing a button and you’ve got a ticket to forgiveness whenever you need it? I don’t know how he can sit there in church and sing hymns, when he’s planning to go out and rob someone the very next day. I’ve tried to get my mother to see sense but she just refuses...”

I guess we all need someone to love,” Olwethu said, and suddenly he was serious. “She must be lonely with your dad gone. You can’t blame her for wanting some company...”

“But Zakes? You think she’d have more sense.”

“She did seem to pick the rotten apple in the basket,” Olwethu smiled again. “Rotten in the core, with a sweet exterior. Wait till she bites into the bad part. She’ll spit him out really quickly.”

“Do you think so?”

“It’s just a matter of time. I just hope she doesn’t get hurt in the meantime. But talking of hurt...” He turned to Ntombi and rested his fingers on her arm.

“I’m fine,” she said. She really didn’t want to talk about Mzi. She still wasn’t sure how she felt. Olwethu hesitated; it was like he wanted to ask her something but couldn’t think of the right words.

“Ntombi...” he started.

“What is it?” Ntombi suddenly felt scared.

“I have to go away for a few days. You know what I told you about Zakes and the cars? Well, the police came around again, asking more questions.”

“Yes?” Ntombi didn’t like where this was going.

“Well, my uncle made a decision yesterday. He went to the police and told them what had happened. It was a dangerous thing to do, because if Zakes found out… but he couldn’t live with it anymore. Now the police are planning to catch Zakes and his gang red-handed. They are just waiting to catch them when they bring the next cars in to be spray-painted. One of the policemen is at my uncle’s garage right now, dressed as a mechanic…”

“Oh God,” said Ntombi.

“That’s why I have to go away. I don’t want to, but my uncle insisted. It’s for my safety and the safety of my family. If Zakes and his gang find out that I know something, or if they find out about the police, they will come for revenge. Do you understand? Zakes might not seem all that bad, but when someone crosses him and his amajita, you don’t want to be there.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Ntombi. She didn’t know what else to say. Somehow, because of her mother, she felt responsible.

“It’s not your fault. Your mother doesn’t know anything about this. But it’s really important that we just act normal, like nothing’s happened, for a little while longer. You can’t tell your mother anything – not till Zakes is safely behind bars.”

“I understand,” said Ntombi. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes, there is,” said Olwethu. “I want to be able to check on you and your family to make sure you are okay. And I want you to have my number. I want you to promise me that you will phone, if anything happens.”

Ntombi went to fetch her cellphone, switched it on and added Olwethu’s number to her contact list then SMSed him hers. Suddenly, a message popped up on her screen. She tried to hide the expression on her face from Olwethu – the message was from Mzi.

When Olwethu had gone, Ntombi stood at the door and read the message quickly.

Hy gal..srry hvnt spoken 4 so long- lent my sista my fone wen she went 2 hospital- cnt w8 2 c u - lot I nid 2 tl u…

Ntombi felt relieved. So that was why he hadn’t SMS’d her. He’d leant his phone to his sick sister. But he wanted to see her again, and he wanted to talk. That was good, everything would be explained. There had been a reason why he hadn’t called. A good one.

Before she had a chance to reply to Mzi’s message, a silver BMW cruised down the road towards her. Surely it was too early for church to be out already? The car pulled up, and Ntombi expected to see Zakes get out smiling, now that he had tried to buy his forgiveness. She could just imagine him in church trying to make a deal with God: “If you forgive me God, I promise to only hijack one more car... seriously...”

But it wasn’t Zakes who got out of the car. It was Mzi, and he was holding a huge bunch of roses.