Have you ever been in a situation where you try by all means to avoid having a difficult conversation? Zola has, and for the past week, she had been doing an amazing job. She managed to avoid said topic at every turn and she was hoping she could keep it up at least until she moved out. But alas, not all wishes can come true. Eventually, she made a mistake, it was bound to happen. Instead of running out of the house without any breakfast like she usually did, she crept to the kitchen to steal some plain toast. Luckily her father was not around, well she thought he wasn't.
As soon as her hand made contact with the crunchy bread he entered the kitchen through the back door. Crap. It was her fault, if she had eaten her midnight snack she wouldn't need breakfast. Her dad was covered in dirt and he was wearing his big green gloves so that would mean he was tending to his garden, he loved his new garden almost as much as he did the old one. The one back home.
"Oh Zola, I'm glad I caught you. We need to talk." Said the man in question.
"Tata I would love to talk but I am already late for school." To be fair she was late for everything. She was already heading out of the kitchen, not wanting to give her father a chance to stop her and strike up that wonderful conversation she had been working hard to avoid. She would honestly rather choke on her plain toast than talk about 'she who shall not be named'.
"Zoleka Vuyisile Nontanda." Double Crap. "Turn around and get back into the kitchen. Now." Her father bellowed and took his gloves off. That was not a good sign.
What was the connection between parents using your full name and the fear it gives to their children? That remains one of the many mysteries of the world. Zola slowly made her way back to the kitchen and sat herself down, it was going to be a long morning. Plain toast excluded.
"Young lady. When you return from school we are video calling your mother and you are having a decent conversation with her and I am not taking no for an answer. Do you understand?" Daluxolo asked his daughter. Already prepared for her to put up a fight or make a snarky remark.
"Yes. Understood." She replied quickly and quietly, much to her father's surprise.
"Good. Good."
"Can I go now?"
"Yes, of course."
"Okay."
"Okay."
She figured that it was a waste of time trying to fight it, she could only run for so long. Plus, she was actually late. She wasn't using that as an excuse to run away. Well, not this time.
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Zola was glad to have found a friend in Sihle. She was nice and they had the same sense of humour. Apart from Noah, Sihle was the only one who could keep up with her sarcastic nature and she always had good comebacks to top it off. That's all you could ask for in a gal.
"I hate Wednesdays," Zola said as they walked towards the empty bench under the tree, where Sihle and herself had their lunch. Sihle always brought a meticulously prepared lunch whereas Zola always bought lunch at the school. Did she enjoy her lunch? Yes. Food is food, and it wasn't like she was going to make her own lunch anytime soon. Her mom used to make all her lunches.
"You said the same thing about Mondays and Tuesdays," Sihle replied, setting her scarily full black backpack onto the bench.
"And I'm going to say the same thing about Thursday and Friday too." Zola sat on the bench. With her legs on either side.
"Wait, what's to hate about Friday? People generally like Friday." Sihle contrasted, biting into her ham and cheese sandwich which was neatly cut into four little triangles.
"I'm still at school for half the day. So Fridays still suck tits." Zola retorted. They had been spending a lot of time together since Sihle used her position to help her escape from the wrinkly grasp of Mrs Davis. Zola had noticed that Sihle has some sort of position in the school. Her uniform -along with a few other students- was slightly different from the rest of the school. Zola's slow mind failed to put two and two together and realize that they were all prefects. She only found out when she mocked how witless it was that schools give some students more 'power', according to her it felt like a mockery to all the other students. That discussion ended as soon as it started. Zola shut it down on the grounds of not wanting to blow it with her new friend with all of her opinions. She had lots of them and she constantly voiced them out, which is why she was so infamous back at her old school.
'Ithetha gqithi la ntombazana.' Was practically her third name. She did not care.
"So..." She started, "Are you doing anything after school? Wanna hang out?" She asked, taking a sip from her water bottle.
"Uhm... not really. I have language classes after school so I can't, sorry." Sihle replied sadly.
"It's alright, just let me know when you don't have classes. I'll send you my location and we'll hang out at my place." Zola said with a smile on her face to lift the suddenly sullen mood. She didn't like seeing a sad Sihle so she felt better as soon as Sihle smiled. "Sure, I'll let you know then we'll hang out."
"What's the time?" Sihle asked already packing away her lunch box.
"10:45, time for you to move," Zola replied having memorized her friend's school schedule. Sihle was always leaving at this time and Zola figured it must have something to do with her being a prefect.
"Hello, ladies." Said a familiar face walking towards them. "I hope we're not interrupting lunch. I tried to wait long enough so as not to disturb you."
"Hi... Siya, right?" Zola said. Remembering the guy from last week's drama club meeting.
"Yep, and this guy is Njabulo, Nkosi." Siya pointed to the lad standing next to him. He simply pulled his hands from his pockets and waved curtly.
"It's a pleasure meeting both of you but I have to skedaddle," Sihle said to the new arrivals. She then turn to Zola, "M'lady." She bowed.
"M'lady." Zola curtseyed back at her friend as she was leaving.
Njabulo chuckled at the scene.
"So, Njabulo, what's your deal? You look like the athletic type. I don't like that." Zola started, being the great conversationalist she is.
"Spot on." He replied with a smile.
"I usually am. You play hockey or soccer?" Zola asked him as her mind skimmed over the available sports at this school.
"Why soccer or hockey? Don't I look like a rugby guy?" Njabulo inquired and put both hands into his pockets.
"Not with that flat ass, no," Zola said like it was obvious.
Siya chuckled and addressed his friend, "Seems like she has you down to a T." He turned to Zola, "He plays hockey."
"And you're besties with a drama nerd. Very cliché, very basic trope. I love to see it." Zola said, slowly darting her eyes between the two boys, her arms crossed.
Siya smirked. "And you're besties with a prefect. You're more cliché here." Siya said to Zola mirroring her crossed arms gesture, "And you don't seem like the type."
"Well then what type do I seem like Njabulo?" Zola asked.
Njabulo answered before Siya could. "You seem like the 'disobeys rules for kicks' type."
"Wooow," Zola put her hands in the pockets of her school skirt, -that was the one thing she appreciated about the uniform- "It seems I'm the only one here who has the ability to read people. I like that."
"Are you saying you're a rule follower?" Njabulo countered. "I'm pretty sure rule followers don't tend to get tattoos."
A flushed Zola immediately brought her right hand up across her chest to her collarbone.
"Huh. How very observant. " Zola said to the boy, actually looking at him for the first time and noticing his blemish-free, very clear skin. She wanted to keep it.
Siya seemed to be confused, which is why his gaze was bouncing from Zola to Njabulo. "I'm lost. You have a tattoo? How come I didn't notice." He said mostly to himself. He turned to Zola, "You don't have a tattoo. Right?" He tried to peek at the spot that Zola was covering.
"I have to get to my class or I'll be late." She answered instead, choosing to ignore Siya's question. She picked up her bag and swung it so it sat uncomfortably on her shoulder. She moved her hand from the spot it covered and fixed her shirt collar. She started to walk away from the duo and after a few steps, she turned to face Siya. The collar buttons of her shirt were now all tied up. "This was fun."
"I'll make sure to keep him away from you from now on." Siya offered and chuckled nervously.
"Right." Zola huffed lightly. "I'll see you around Siya. Sho Njabulo." She said with her back facing them, already rushing to a class she was early for.