After only three days back at school, Karabo felt as though she had never left. Summer sport took precedence in the afternoon, and she was only permitted to practise hockey if she played for a summer sports team. She once again opted for tennis. It was the closest to hockey, and she liked the uniform. It also meant she had even less spare time. In fact, she started to think that there was no spare time for anything but sleeping. Isla preferred swimming to tennis in summer, despite the fact that she wasn’t a very good swimmer. But she said she enjoyed the training and watching Mzi, who was, of course, an excellent backstroker.

The matrics were now revising their work, and although they participated in some sport, it was mostly just for exercise and not for matches or galas. All their attention was focused on their class work, revision and working through past papers. They seemed to mooch around in clumps of bodies. Sometimes excited, the girls would be all giggly and secretive about matric dance dresses, then at other times forlorn and moody, dragging themselves to another tut, moaning about what a teacher predicted would be in an exam.

Karabo felt sorry for them with their bags full of textbooks, however, she couldn’t help getting caught up in the gossip about who was going with whom to the dance. According to the latest predictions, William was going to ask Tiff to the dance. So far, he hadn’t asked anyone. ‘Soooo, apparently, William is about to ask Tiff to the matric dance,’ whispered Josie at lunch.

Karabo raised her eyebrows, trying to look uninterested, even though her stomach still twisted a little when she heard about William. ‘Oh really?’ she responded, taking a huge bite of her hot dog, stuffing her face before she said anything more.

‘I heard it from one of the matric guys. He says that Will reckons that Tiff is the best looker in the school,’ continued Josie, her face showing her disapproval. Josie, a tall leggy blond, with a slightly long face to match, liked to think of herself as the best-looking girl in the school.

Karabo shrugged. ‘No accounting for taste,’ was all she could muster in response – a saying she had heard her mother use before. Karabo quickly finished her lunch in order to leave the table and get some fresh air before prep. Since returning to Dayeton College, Isla and Karabo hadn’t told anyone about the party they had gone to at William’s in the holiday. Isla had been particularly insistent that nobody should know that she had been partying with the likes of William English.

‘But that’s hypocritical!’ said Karabo when Isla had told her they would keep William’s party a secret. ‘You go to his party, have a great time and then don’t want anyone to know, because hanging with him messes with your image?’

Isla had at least looked sheepish when Karabo had confronted her, her guilt evident by the fact that she hadn’t argued the point. Isla wasn’t one to back down from an argument, so Karabo knew she was right.

‘Please Karabz. What people don’t know, won’t hurt them,’ begged Isla.

‘Fine, whatever, Isla,’ Karabo had responded. She understood Isla’s concerns regarding being associated with William. In a school like theirs, where your marks and sporting status made you, associating yourself with the school ‘bad ass’ wasn’t going to help you win friends. To Isla, her image and her status were very important, and William was not good company.

Karabo often thought about how at school William was just another 18-year-old, like all the other matrics – a dodgy guy, but still just a kid. Outside of school, he wasn’t like the rest of them at all. It was as though he had been exposed to a very adult life from an early age. Staying in a mansion on his own, hosting a party with tons of alcohol. Where had his father been that night? It didn’t make sense and it felt messed up. Luckily, as the weeks and weekends rolled on through the term, she found thoughts of William and his strange life faded. She hardly saw him at school, and on weekends, Karabo spent most of her time in the gymnasium playing basketball on her own, or with anyone who wanted to join her. Buzz would walk in now and then to play hoops with her. He was always friendlier on weekends, when there weren’t any other matrics around that he needed to impress.

‘So, who are you taking to the dance?’ asked Karabo just before her shot. Buzz seemed to stiffen before walking over to the ball and picking it up, bouncing it as he made his way to the line to take his shot. ‘Dunno’ he said, holding the ball in front of his face, lining it up with the net. ‘Thought I’d take you.’ Karabo furrowed her brow. Had she heard him correctly? Was this Buzz’s version of asking a girl to the matric dance?

‘Me? Are you asking me, or are you yanking my chain?’ asked Karabo. Buzz shot the ball and it swooshed through the hoop. ‘Woohoo!’ he shouted, before turning to Karabo, ‘Ya, why not Karabz? We’re like friends, and we will have a laugh. No serious stuff, just mates,’ said Buzz, his smile sliding up the one side of his face, roguish. Karabo smiled. She agreed, this was their vibe, casual, non-committal, a laugh.

‘Are you going to be able to talk to me at the dance, or you going to ignore me?’ asked Karabo, teasing Buzz about the way he treated her during the week. She had asked him about it before and he had just mumbled something about that’s how it was if you were a senior.

‘What! No way Karabz, of course I won’t ignore you. You’ll be my date,’ he said, winking at her and running his hands through his thick auburn hair.

‘Hmm, seeing is believing Mr Stuart!’ said Karabo, her hands on her hips. ‘Catch!’ demanded Buzz as he threw the ball at her, distracting her from her train of thought. Karabo quickly caught the ball and they continued with the game as though nothing had changed between them.