Sbu finally backed down from getting into a fight with those jerks, thank God, but then we had this massive argument about it.
“What’s wrong with you?” I yelled at him when we got to the other side of the parade away from those racist idiots. “Did you see the size of those guys? They would have made mincemeat out of you!”
But Sbu was sulky. “Why did you drag me away? You just proved that they’re right!”
“What, that I’m your madam? You really think that? THAT’s our relationship? Like you wouldn’t have dragged me away if I was getting into a pointless argument with aggro jerks?”
“No, but… I was standing up for you!” Sbu said.
“I don’t need you to stand up for me, Sbu. I can handle myself. I’ve been doing it for my entire life!”
I’d never seen K8 so pissed off. Thing is I knew she was right. I could care less what those guys think. They were just a bunch of punk losers looking to start a fight.
And I know she can take care of herself. I mean, she even ran away from home for three months, took a backpacker’s bus all the way up to Johannesburg when she was 15.
“I can’t help it,” I told her. “If someone threatens you, it’s automatic. I’m going to step up.”
“But you’re not going to be able to do that when I’m at Rhodes, Sbu.”
It was the first time we’d really acknowledged it. That she was going away. It sucked. Big time.
It hit us both at the same time, that what we were really fighting ABOUT is that this relationship is worth fighting FOR.
It’s going to be so hard with me going away, with cultural differences and the race rubbish that I’m amazed people still bother about – and just being in a serious relationship with someone you care about.
It’s a precious, fragile thing.
Sbu pulled me into a hug and then we kissed just as one of the teams scored and the crowd went wild, almost as if they were doing it for our kiss.
We kissed for the longest time, in front of everyone, but it was cool cause at least my parents weren’t there.
Then I got us two boerewors rolls and we sat on a bench and ate them together, people-watching. The crowd was so mixed and crazy, from a Dutch family all wearing these ridiculous orange top hats, down to a toddler on his dad’s shoulders, to this lesbian couple wearing Bafana Bafana tutus and holding hands.
I was still angry about those guys, but they were the exception. Everyone was really happy and excited and there was such a good spirit. You could feel it in the air. K8 pointed out two foreign girls with crazy spiky hair. Real punks.
“They look like Pokemon!” I said.
“You watched Pokemon?” K8 seemed surprised.
“Are you kidding me? My little sister Lebo was crazy for them when she was five. She knew all their powers.” I put on Lebo’s voice, all squeaky, “She’d be like, this one’s Squirtle and it goes pssssssh! And this one’s Bulbasaur, it’s got a plant on its head and it can bite the crap out of you. Oh, don’t tell mom I said ‘crap’.”
K8 laughed. I love it when she laughs. We kissed again and we were so into it, when we came up for air, the game was practically over.
Long after the crowd had already gone home or to nearby pubs or shebeens, we were still sitting there on the bench talking like we haven’t talked in ages. It was great.
I said I was sorry for being bossy in the car and being worried about his friends being hijackers and Sbu apologised for letting those drunk idiots get to him. Misunderstandings are gonna happen. We just need to talk it through. Always.
It’s harder work than just being friends. But we’re good together. Really good. And if we can hold onto that, we’ll be just fine.
We knew it was going to be hard, but I wasn’t expecting it to be THIS hard. I guess it’s because this is the most serious relationship I’ve ever had.
But no matter what people say about me being kasi and her being a white suburbs girl, the only thing that matters is us. This is between me and K8.
And I know for sure now, after today. It’s worth it.