Lethabo was constantly amazed at the way people treated him differently, now that he played for the first team rugby. Before his promotion hardly anybody had noticed him; he had been almost invisible, a nobody from the Transkei. Before, when people had spoken to him it had generally been to make a snide remark about grass huts or dung floors, or to tease him about his cheap spaza shop shoes – which was all his parents could afford.

Things could not have been more different when Lethabo arrived at school on the Monday after his rumble with Bakkies the boy-giant. Friends, enemies, girls – even teachers – all greeted him and smiled, or stopped to ask how he was feeling. By the time he reached his first lesson of the day he had already chatted to at least 50 people, and when he stepped inside to take his seat there was a reception committee waiting for him, featuring some of his team-mates who led an impromptu cheer.

“That guy Bakkies was huge! Lethabo cut him down like he was made of sand,” gushed Jerome Foster, addressing the crowd.

“Ag, it wasn’t that big a deal,” said Lethabo, slightly embarrassed by all the attention.

“Don’t be so modest! Lethabo was incredible – you should have seen him!” praised Pieter Cronje, leaning forward out of the throng to put an arm around Lethabo’s shoulders and ruffle his hair. Then he took a step back and pointed to Lethabo’s swollen eye and cheek: “I must tell you, if you think this looks bad you should see Bakkies! I don’t think the guy will be picking on any ‘darkies’ again anytime soon!”

Everybody roared with laughter, and it occurred to Lethabo that this was almost certainly the happiest moment of his life. Pieter was probably the most popular guy at school. He was respected by other boys for his sporting ability and his status as Deputy Head Boy, and admired by the girls for his surfer looks – wide shoulders, blue eyes and blonde hair. Add to that the fact that Pieter’s father, Mr Cronje, just happened to be the first team rugby coach and it was easy to see why a compliment from Pieter was high praise indeed.

There was another far more important reason why Pieter commanded so much respect among the schoolboy fraternity: his sister, Tersia Cronje. To say Tersia was the most beautiful girl at school was to state the obvious – like pointing out that the world is round and the sea is wet.

Tersia was so hot that even the ceiling seemed to melt when she walked into the room. She was so hot you couldn’t bear to look at her too long in case of a desire overload. Even their class teacher Mr Hanley, (a middle-aged, married man with a grey beard and receding hairline) had been observed to linger a suspiciously long time at Tersia’s desk, explaining in detail the complexities of ‘continental drift’.

It wasn’t only her perfect figure and model features that made her every man’s fantasy – and probably every woman’s too. It was her energy. A look from her felt like being swept up by a strong wind and bounced around on a fast-moving cloud. Falling back to earth was painful but it was worth it!

Perhaps it was only fitting therefore that at the very moment when Lethabo felt life could not get any better, sitting there with Pieter’s arm around his shoulder and surrounded by adoring fans, Tersia appeared in the doorway.

“There you are,” she said, walking up to Pieter and flicking a stray curl of hair from her sexy face. Lethabo felt his heart stop then start up again at three times its normal pace. Tersia was now standing right in front of him, close enough for him to see the tiny blonde hairs glistening along her top lip. He was so in love with the small flecks in her green eyes that it took him a few seconds to realise that the flecks were looking at him. “Hey Lethabo. Congrats on the game on Saturday. You were amazing.”

Lethabo began to worry he was dreaming. Had Tersia Cronje just spoken to him? If so, he knew he knew he needed to reply, but no sound came out when he opened his mouth. It was as if his brain was scrambled by a giddy mix of terror and excitement and that had paralysed his tongue.

“Ow. Your eye looks sore,” Tersia said, furrowing a silky smooth brow. “You were really brave you know, Lethabo. We all saw what happened.”

“Ja, he’s quite the hero today,” Pieter chipped in. “Even if he does look like he has been run over by a bus. Ha ha ha!”

Another peal of laughter rang through the room. Tersia tucked a sprig of hair behind her ear and stared at Lethabo, a smile bulging in the hammock of her lips.

“Well I think he looks just fine,” she said. With that she swung her bag back onto her shoulder and disappeared out of the door.

By the time their teacher arrived to start the lesson Lethabo was a million miles away, on a white cloud, roaring through the sky.

***

Tell us what you think: Are first team players guaranteed admiration and attention – especially from girls?