The local town was small and relatively safe, so the students of Dayeton College were allowed to go off and do what they wanted, as long as they were back at the bus in two hours. As Karabo climbed on the bus, she saw a group of girls she often went to town with; a mix of ages, the left-over children who were at school on the weekend. They waved to her. ‘Hey Karabo, do you want to come to NextGen with us? We heard they’re having a sale,’ said Eva, a mousy Grade 9 who always loved to engage Karabo. Karabo shuffled into the seat behind the group and leaned over them.

‘Tempting girls, but I need to get some stationery and hit the pharmacy, so you guys go ahead and I’ll catch up with you, k?’ she said, trying to sound as though she were embarking on a very boring expedition of admin purchases.

‘OK,’ they chimed, swallowing Karabo’s white lie.

She slumped down into the bus seat, the plastic squeaking. The truth was that Karabo wanted to enjoy her custard tart in peace. She also wanted to replay how Buzz had kissed her, without having to make mindless small talk. She wanted to wander around and think about that kiss, turn it around in her head, over and over. She smiled to herself as she thought of their magical kiss, and how it hadn’t been long enough, and she still felt warm and fuzzy in her stomach. She wanted to enjoy this feeling in the company of a delicious custard tart.

The bus’s brakes screeched in revolt as it came to a halt at the usual bus stop. Everyone piled out and Karabo gave the gaggle of girls a wave, promising to find them as soon as her chores were done. She meandered along the street to the bakery, letting herself into the shop, the sound of the doorbell tinkling her arrival; her lungs filled with the smell of fresh bread, pastries and all manner of delicious things. The woman behind the counter recognised her. ‘Custard tart?’ she asked. Karabo giggled. She could definitely call herself regular. ‘Yes, please ma’am,’ she responded politely.

The woman, middle-aged with wide hips, an apron and a pleasing smile, took a tart from the display and placed it into the paper bag. ‘Twenty rand please?’ she asked Karabo.

Karabo gave her the exact amount and smiled broadly at the woman. She felt ready to eat the tart through the paper. Clutching the paper bag, Karabo stepped out of the bakery and took two steps before opening the bag and spying the tart. ‘There you are my precious,’ she whispered to herself, as she reached into the bag and pulled the tart halfway out before sinking her teeth down into it.

She closed her eyes and slowly chewed, enjoying the smooth custard mixing with crisp pastry. It was so good, and a small moan of pleasure rumbled from her throat. She slowly opened her eyes and breathed in. A small flake of pastry fluttered down her windpipe and she started to choke, coughing and spluttering until her eyes watered.

‘Are you OK?’ she heard a voice behind her ask, sounding mildly concerned. Infuriating William! Here he was, ruining her perfect first bite. Interfering in her day.

She swallowed and glared at him, ‘What are you doing here?’ she blurted, livid, her eyes still streaming from her choking fit.

‘Making sure you don’t choke on pastry?’ he smirked. Karabo rolled her eyes at his pathetic wit.

‘Can I buy you a coffee?’ he asked, ‘To help wash that down’ he added. Karabo wondered if he was actually trying to be nice.

She looked at him carefully, wiping her eyes. Her mother’s words echoed in her head ‘You have the gift. You will know who and what you can and can’t trust.’ She stared at him a little longer while he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. ‘OK, William, a coffee. Besides, I have a question for you,’ she said, brushing the crumbs away from her mouth.

‘Oh?’ he said, raising his eyebrows and standing tall. ‘How interesting Miss Mavuso,’ he said as he turned and pointed down a side road, ‘Let’s go this way.’ Karabo walked next to him in silence, waiting for him to explain what he was doing in town. William hadn’t been on the school bus and should have been studying like the other matrics.

‘I had to get out of there,’ he said suddenly. Karabo remained silent, giving him the space to talk. ‘I’ve studied that crappy version of history a thousand times. It’s always the same and it only gives one perspective. But I know better. You and I know better, Karabo. We know the whole truth,’ he vented. Karabo peered out the side of her eye to look at his face. He looked determined and angry. The reckless devil-may-care look he usually wore had been erased.

They stopped in front of a dingy bar. Karabo felt the anger boil under her skin. ‘Listen Will, you said a coffee. I’m not drinking while we are here with school and stuff. You can go in there but I’m not screwing my schooling up,’ she said as she started to walk away, ready to give up on William and all his craziness once and for all.