Zinzi sat on the broken swing in the dark. She didn’t know what to do or where to go. She was afraid to go home. Suppose Mrs Nombembe had been to see her family? They’d all know what she had been doing; they’d be ashamed, just like she was ashamed of herself.

This stretch of ground was so shadowy, and it was scary out here. It was a typical Friday night, full of distant sound, happy laughter, angry quarrels and drunken shouts. Luckily no one stumbling past had noticed her yet.

What must Luyanda think of her? And what would people like Inamandla, Supercoach and Danisile think when they knew? Because there was no stopping the truth coming out now, however much she denied it. Luyanda and Mrs Nombembe wouldn’t let it go.

“Thank God I’ve found you.” It was as if thinking about Luyanda had made him appear. “I thought you might be here. Zinzi, you’ve got to come home and tell your family.”

“I can’t,” she gasped, her breath catching as she accepted it was useless denying the truth now. “I’m so ashamed.”

“That man took advantage of how young you are.” Luyanda’s voice was gentle, wrapping itself round her like a soft, comforting blanket on a cold night. “We’re brought up to respect and obey, not just our parents, but all adults, and especially our teachers. So when one of them is … the way Mase is, we don’t know how to deal with it.”

The way he kept saying we, like they were in this together, was comforting. Tears sprang into Zinzi’s eyes.

“I still knew it was wrong.”

“You can make it right by reporting him.” It was the most serious she’d ever heard Luyanda.

“I can’t. Having everyone knowing?”

“Only the people who absolutely need to know. Listen Zinzi, this girl Mrs Nombembe talked about? Mase got her pregnant. She had his baby, and now she and the baby are both sick, living in this terrible place, because her family threw her out.” Luyanda crouched down in front of the swing so that he was on a level with her, but she could hardly see his face in the darkness. “She says she’ll help us put a stop to it, by telling what he did, but she’s really scared of doing it on her own. It would make the important people more ready to take us seriously if the two of you both spoke up.”

Zinzi stared out into the dark night. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like, thrown out by your family, never mind being pregnant. She knew girls who’d had babies in their teens, friends of Ntombi’s, and it had messed up their lives in such painful ways.

“Two of us,” she murmured.

“And others in this Butterworth school where he was before Harmony,” Luyanda said. “My journalist friend dug that up.”

“You’ve been trying to help me all along,” Zinzi gulped, and tried to stop a sob. “What’s wrong with me? I never cry! Luyanda, I’m so stupid, I see it now –”

“You’re not stupid,” he interrupted her, sounding quite fierce.

“Then what am I?” she choked, crying properly by now.

“You’re – just you.” A smile in his voice now. “Difficult, and obstinate, and all talk and argument, and a brilliant soccer player, and – I have to tell you – if you miss another practice, Supercoach says you’re off the team. Zinzi, please, please stop crying. You see, I’ve got like a phobia about that, because I don’t know what to do.”

A laugh like a hiccup interrupted her sobs, and next moment she was laughing and still crying at the same time. Luyanda had straightened up out of his crouched position, and she jumped off the swing seat and threw herself at him.

That forced him to put out his arms to catch her, or maybe to stop her knocking him over.

“I’m so sorry, Luyanda.” She was holding on to him like he was the only safe thing in her life.

“For what?” Casually, but with a little shake in his voice, like he was feeling emotional but trying not to show it. “Come on, Zin … You need to get home and speak to your people.”

She went still. “I’m scared.”

“I’ll be there with you.”

“If I don’t know what to say?”

“You never used to run out of words.” He turned her in the direction of home and kept his arm around her shoulders.

Her laugh was both breathless and wobbly. “Sounds like you liked that.”

“I did. I’m looking forward to you getting that crazy talent back.”

It wasn’t easy at home. They arrived to Mama demanding to know what sort of trouble Zinzi was in because she’d just discovered Mrs Nombembe had been sending texts and leaving voicemails all evening, begging Mama to get back to her. And where had Zinzi been anyway? Dad, Ntombi and Olwethu were also there.

“It’s about Mr Mase.” Zinzi’s voice shook as she stepped forward. “The extra maths … He … he –”

“He’s been abusing Zinzi,” Luyanda said, his voice harsh. “And she’s not the first girl.”

Uproar.

“How could you let it happen and say nothing?” Dad was enraged, his voice cutting through the others’ shouting.

“I thought I could handle it. And I liked that you liked it when he gave me good marks.” Zinzi was starting to cry again. “And then later, even though I was scared, I was also ashamed. I … I don’t know how to explain it properly.”

“An old man exploiting a schoolgirl.” Luyanda at his most serious. “Sorry, Mr Gasa, sir, but who has the power in a relationship like that?”

“Not a relationship,” Zinzi protested. “Just … something … something horrible and disgusting and frightening, and like being trapped somewhere you can’t get out of.”

“My girl!” Dad seemed to have something stuck in his throat, and maybe he was remembering how it felt being in prison.

At this point, Ntombi burst into tears.

“You tried to talk to me, didn’t you, Zinzi? And you too, Luyanda, you tried to tell me and I wouldn’t listen,” she wept. “Sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

It was the first time in a long time that she and her sister had hugged, Zinzi realised. It felt good.

“You tried to talk to me too, didn’t you, child?” Mama spoke with her hand over her mouth, but Zinzi had already seen how her lips were quivering. “On Wednesday. Oh, Zinzi.”

There was so much regret and guilt, Zinzi let go of the anger she’d felt over the way they never seemed to pay attention to her. She looked round her family, all who were left in the room, because Luyanda and Olwethu had slipped away.

But Luyanda came by the next day, when Mrs Nombembe was there too, talking to Mama and Dad.

“So we’re all going to the principal on Monday,” he said when he and Zinzi went outside. “Are you OK with that?”

“The girl with the baby too?” Zinzi needed to be sure, and she guessed the girl was probably equally anxious to know she wouldn’t be the only one reporting Mr Mase. “She’ll be there?”

“Yes. Mrs Nombembe has already organised somewhere better for her and the baby to stay, and someone is going to take them to a doctor.”

“That poor girl.” Zinzi met his eyes. “She wasn’t as lucky as me, was she? She didn’t have you watching out for her like I did.”

Luyanda shook his head, looking embarrassed, but then he smiled and reached for her hand.

“Like I said, I missed the mouthy diva you used to be.”

Zinzi felt warmth moving through her veins, and she let her fingers curl round his.

***

Tell us: Zinzi’s father first said to Zinzi, “How could you let it happen?” but then Luyanda pointed out that it was an unequal relationship – that Mr Mase had all the power. What does he mean?