Dayeton College

The first week of matric at Dayeton College felt surreal. Karabo wasn’t sure how they’d got here, but she certainly deserved every minute of being able to boss her junior around. After all, she’d been treated the same way. The matrics and their superior attitudes had been something to complain about, but now she was one of them.

As much as Karabo fought her feelings of superiority over younger pupils, teachers and the school in general, she felt herself being swallowed up by it. She even caught herself strutting the other day and had to remind herself to walk normally. It was as if there was a matric ghost inhabiting her body, making her act like a fool. Isla seemed less affected and in complete control.

Starting with a firm discussion about the rules (and her expectations), Isla handed her new junior — a mousey Grade 8 girl named Kaitlyn — a typed list of her very specific requirements and duties. Karabo had been half tempted to photocopy Isla’s list but hadn’t found the time. Every morning, Isla’s junior appeared with tea and a rusk at Isla’s bedside. The sweet waif, with her pointy little nose, would await the next instruction, before being dismissed. Isla would then sit up, dunk her rusk and scan her diary and new class timetable, before packing her books and getting dressed.

Cindy — Karabo’s junior — would wave at Karabo from her breakfast table in the dining hall. As the strawberry-haired girl, with a flat Miss Piggy nose and cat-like glasses, made eye contact with her, Karabo would barely nod in recognition. Feeling bitter about not getting a rusk in bed like Isla, Karabo wondered about asking Isla to help manage her junior.

But Karabo’s pride wouldn’t let her. She wanted to manage Cindy in her own way, but just hadn’t figured out what to do with her yet; besides she was capable of doing everything herself. What did she really need a new-girl for anyway?

‘I need another cup of tea,’ said Isla at the end of breakfast. She clicked her fingers in the air and in one scrape of a chair, Kaitlyn appeared at Isla’s side.

‘Tea please, Kaitlyn,’ ordered Isla, barely looking at her. ‘Two sweeteners and lots of milk, don’t forget,’she reminded, as Kaitlyn made her way to the tea station.

Karabo shook her head.

‘What?’ said Isla looking at Karabo. ‘You treat her like a slave!’ she replied.

‘Ya?’ asked Isla, ‘That’s what we’re supposed to do, Karabs.  She is my new-girl and look how happy she is. She actually has something to do and I do praise her and everything,’ said Isla, watching Kaitlyn make her tea. ‘Unlike your new-girl, look at her. She’s standing and waiting for her friends, looking like a lost fart because you haven’t given her something useful to do!’ said Isla, pointing her nose at Cindy who hiding in a shadow in the far corner of the room.

‘I don’t need her, Isles,’ said Karabo in frustration. ‘It’s a massive pain to manage her and I have my own problems to deal with. I don’t have time to think up things for her to do,’ spat Karabo. It was Isla’s turn to shake her head.

‘Honestly, Karabo, for a very smart person you are abysmal at organising your life,’ stated Isla, ‘just say the word and I’ll help you with Cindy,’ she added, with expectant eyes.

‘No!’ said Karabo, ‘I am not giving you  a  second  new-girl. You already enjoy this too much. It’s creepy how much you love power,’ she said, making a face so that Isla knew she was joking, sort of.

After sports practice that afternoon, all the matrics moved to the library, prep hall or their rooms to start their homework. From day one, the teachers spoke about ‘the final exams’ as if they were the only thing to be revered and dreaded in life. Karabo and Isla listened intently to the first few monologues from their teachers, before ignoring the rest and sending notes to each other under the table. They knew the exams were the key to getting out of school and into university. They were also used to working hard and staying fairly conscientious throughout their schooling career.

Neither Isla nor Karabo were about to lose their grip on reality and all of a sudden start messing up. Isla was determined to  get into UCT Law School and follow Mzi. Her Grade 11 marks afforded her easy entrance into the course, so she only had to maintain them. Karabo’s choice was less easy. Getting into UCT Medical School was extremely difficult, and Karabo had to show the school that she’d spent time volunteering at some kind of healthcare facility, along with demonstrating her excellent marks and sporting acumen. Since breaking her arm last year, her hockey had taken a knock. She was still hopeful though, that she’d make the provincial team this year and even make the try- outs for the South African women’s team.