MATHONGA

Chapter 50

MATHONGA-
Fifty

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KHETHIWE-

“You promised to bring me home before seven, it’s after 10pm Bahle.” My complaint goes to the man standing before me. I’m not interested in that look of apology, I want him to turn back time and bring me home before sunset.
“I’m sorry Khethi, we were having fun and lost track of time.”
He’s putting half the blame on me, fair enough. I was enjoying his company too that when I blinked, it was already late. Serves me right for accepting the stupid coffee date, it turned to drinks when we got lost in the conversation. 
“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asks.
The final nail to the coffin—this man came back to finish off what he started ten years ago, I know he did. That’s why I’m standing with him outside my father’s house at 10 in the evening.  
He’s watching me in anticipation, I don’t know why he won’t keep his eyes to himself.
“I have a life,” that involves laying on the sofa and binge watching trash TV.  
“Okay, it doesn’t have to be food, we can get frozen Mayo.” His eyes light bright with a smile.
“Frozen yoghurt?” I want to laugh at him, we did that in high school. It would be weird now.
“Need I remind you Khethiwe that you love Mayo? You never went a day without having it back in the day, you’d be so grumpy when you didn’t have money to buy Mayo, but your superman always came to the rescue.”
Yeah that’s because money favoured his family, not mine. 
“I was obsessed, remember this one time I ate three cups and got sick.” I accept the ride back to memory lane.
“You had pneumonia, I had never been so scared in my life than when I saw you with your head on the desk, your whole body trembling. I thought you were having seizures, I cried thinking you were going to die.”
We share a laugh, his eyes are on me, exhibiting adoration. I clear my throat, sending my gaze away from him. 
“My dad beat me up when I came home from the hospital, who does that?”
He took me to Milky Lane the next day without my mother’s knowledge, he never said why, but I believe it was his way of apologising. He’s a big teddy bear; my father, I wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Bahle stands beside me, leaning against his car like I am. His hand brushes on mine, he keeps it there, fidgeting. He wants to hold my hand, I’m not letting that happen. He clears his throat when I shift a smidgeon away from him. 
He breathes loud enough for me to hear it and distinguish the cause of it.
“Black parents are so abusive, and call it discipline. I was upset with him for hurting you, I wanted to confront him man to man.” He’s funny. 
“KaMadonsela would’ve killed you, you weighed a cloud, remember?” I remind him and can’t help but laugh at him, he’s giving me that look again. The look of adoration, I want him to stop. I don’t want him to raise his hopes on me, I’m not that girl who will give him what he wants. He stands in front of me and takes my hand into his.
“I would’ve done anything for you Khethiwe, and that hasn’t changed.”
I don’t say anything, simply because I have nothing sensible to say.  We stand through the silence, his fingers sluggishly playing with mine. Finally, he sighs as if discharging a load of stress.
“What happened to us, Khethiwe? We were so close.”
“My parents sent me away and we drifted, we grew up Bahle.” My answer is hurried, I claim my hand back and cross my arms.
“We can still rekindle that friendship.” He says this with hope and expectation in his eyes.
“Things are different now, and we’re not kids anymore. I have someone in my life, he doesn’t like sharing.”
There’s a chariot of fire ready to transport me to hell for lying.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he’s this type that observes too much. “I miss our friendship, I miss you and the way we were.”
“You said it Bahle, the way we were. It’s in the past now, we are not the same people.”
I have no choice but to push him away, life has not been kind to me when it comes to dealing with men. Bahle might be another Ntaba, a disaster waiting to unfold.
“I promise, I won’t be an ass. I want to be your friend, that’s all.” He persists, and he won’t stop, I know.
“Okay, don’t kill yourself just yet.” Let me play hero and save him from grovelling. “Fine, but no random calls. If you want to talk to me rather send a text. Outings are limited to one a week, you’re not allowed to call them dates. We’re friends, not lovers.”
“We can be lovers and friends.”
He’s laughing, I don’t find it funny— I want nothing to do with love.
I need to Google how to smack a stupid grin off a man’s face.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it when you said we are friends not lovers. I suddenly remembered the song Lovers and Friends. It was your favourite, little did I know that one day you’ll use it against me.”
Bahle seems to remember every single thing about me, I feel bad, having forgotten quite a hand full about him. Perhaps my head was always filled with Ntaba… exhibit A; he’s in my head presently.
I don’t stop Bahle as he forces my arms apart and holds my hand once again.