Just then my brother comes out to claim me and the bouncer retreats.

“What was that about?” he asks.

“Nothing. He just wanted to know if I’m signing up.”

“Are you?” he says and searches my face hopefully.

I shake my head.

“Everything alright?” he asks. “I thought you’d be home by now. What are you doing here?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I just needed to ask your advice on something.”

“Ask,” he says.

I shake my head again.

“It can wait,” I tell him. “I can see you’re busy.”

He looks at me.

“Sure you don’t want me to sign you up while you’re here? I can get you free membership. With personal training thrown in,” he grins. “It’s a great way to meet girls,” he says encouragingly.

“Thanks but no thanks,” I tell him. “I don’t think these gym babes are my type.”

The day is practically over by the time I exit the gym and head into the sweaty streets of Pinetown. It is May, supposedly winter time, but the temperature is way up. I can’t face the thought of climbing into a crowded minibus packed with armpits at the end of a long, hard, working day. So on impulse I decide to walk home and save the taxi money. I would put it into my babe fund, to pay for the dates I would soon be going on. See? More positive thinking.

But I am not feeling nearly so positive by the time I get home. It had taken me forever to do the six kay walk through Pinetown, then the steep climb up Mariannhill Road to Ntshelinyama turn-off. My satchel felt like it was full of bricks and my shirt stuck to my back like I’d been swimming in it. I am glad the house is empty so I wouldn’t have to take my bad mood out on anyone. Ma is away for the weekend at a family funeral in Maritzburg.

I kick my school bag under the table where I won’t have to look at it and go to make myself a snack to refresh my energy. Ma had kindly left a fresh koek cooling on the table. Chocolate: my favourite. I polish it off, leaving a slice for my brother, and chase it down with a nice healthy meat sandwich of fried sausage and white loaf.

While I eat I check my WhatsApp messages in case I’ve missed anything. There are two new ones. One from Ma, the other from the dentist, reminding me I am overdue for a check-up and dental clean. Fat chance. I delete that and swipe back to the menu screen. I am still hungry but decide I’d better wait for supper and get started on my homework. It isn’t school homework I am thinking of; I don’t have time for that. I am too busy changing my life.

I scroll down to the Facebook icon. It is the first time I’m bothering going on there. I’ve never really seen the point of social media. For one thing I’m not the chatz-y kind. For another, I prefer my friends in the flesh. Especially babe friends. Not that I’ve got any. Well, one: Rubi. But she doesn’t count as a babe. She’s more like a sister. We’ve known each other forever, ever since I poo’d in her sandpit and she hit me. She’s the one girl I don’t have to worry about impressing. She already knows what there is to know about me.

It is easier than I thought to get a profile up. All I have to do is decide what kind of guy I want to be and make up the life I need. I decide I will be Prinz. It sounds like a good-looking name. Now all I need is the good-looking pic to go with it.

I shoot a few selfies, but none of them are any good. I look like a mad-eyed stalker in all of them. I try side view, front view, even a back view. Something about my face just doesn’t work on screen. I scroll through my phone pics to see if there is anything from there that I can use. There is. A portrait in close-up. A really good one. Up on my FB wall it goes and – bingo! Prinz is actioned.

The pic looks really good up there. A real babe puller. Only problem is, it isn’t of me.

***

Tell us: Do you know anyone who has done this? What happened?