“Raai! Raai! Raai! Raai! Have you heard about what happened last night?” Tuksie confronted Mzi as he came through the school gates. She knew everything at school. No secret was safe with Tuksie and she loved spreading rumours, even about her friends. So she couldn’t wait to see Mzi; she had been waiting for him. “Guess what happened last night. That pathetic friend of yours was given a thrashing by Olwethu. Why are you sending others to do your dirty work for you? Shame on you!”

Some younger boys heard her. “What do we call it when an unarmed man beats a man with a gun? Who’s got a dictionary?” They laughed.

“It’s like killing a lion with your bare hands. Take-five!” a boy answered. Mzi moved away, furious, not wanting to hear any more.

But he couldn’t get away from it. At break time everyone was talking about how Olwethu hu-miliated Vuyo. Everyone was saying Mzi was behind it. And that he was too much of a cow-ard – he got someone else to do his dirty work for him.

“Is it true?” one of his old crew asked. And when he didn’t answer, the guy walked away.

“So, kudalekeni ngoVuyo last night?” asked the thin skinny boy. Just the sound of his voice annoyed Mzi.

“Don’t start. I didn’t come here to be laughed at.”

“Don’t you think Vuyo is making you look weak?”

Mzi was just about to punch him – he had had enough – when Thandi called him. “Meneer needs you in the class-room,” she said. “He said it is urgent.” But when Mzi got to the classroom it was empty.

“What was that?” said Mzi.

“You had to get away from there, I could see,” Thandi said, “before you punched someone.”

“I can’t let them mock me much longer,” said Mzi. “They’ve got to learn respect.” He spat out the words.

“Strength isn’t your fists, it’s what’s inside,” said Thandi. “Those boys are cowards, full of big talk. Pointing the first finger … like they haven’t done anything wrong, ever.”

“If you think I’m going to sit down and have a conversation with them, you’re wrong,” replied Mzi angrily. “Who do you think you are?”

He could see he had upset her, and she was out of the classroom before he could stop her. She’s just too on my case, he thought to himself. Good to chase her away.

Later, during Maths, when the teacher wasn’t there, he heard raised voices at the back of the class amongst a group of girls. Usually he ig-nored them but he saw that Thandi was amongst them, and that she looked like she wasn’t having a good time.

He went closer.

“So we know why you don’t want to tell us about where you come from, Thandi,” said Tuksie. “My brother told me he remembers you.”

“Shut up!” said Thandi. But Tuksie was enjoying herself.

“You are the girl whose parents didn’t even love her,” said Tuksie. “The little girl whose parents locked her up inside during the day and then outside in the night.”

“And whose mother was so drunk she was even an umarhosha to get money for al-cohol,” added another girl.

“So who do you think you are then?” said Tuk-sie. “Telling us what’s right and what’s wrong?”

Mzi waited for the sting from Thandi’s tongue, that strong voice that had defended him in the past. But nothing came. Instead she pushed past them and rushed outside.

The girls laughed and gave each other high-fives – “That’ll teach her,” said one. Mzi looked out of the window and saw Thandi facing the wall as if it was a close friend. He realised she was probably crying.

He found himself wanting to go out to her. He had suddenly remembered her mother, the lip-stick smeared thick around her lips, the alcohol smell on her breath. Were there any brothers or sisters? He tried to remember.

But he was Mzi, there was no way he could go up to a crying girl and give her comfort. So he ignored the pull in his heart.

But he couldn’t concentrate when she didn’t show up in class later. He worked alone without a partner in Life Sciences for a new assignment as no one else volunteered to partner with him. He felt lonely.

When the siren sounded for the end of school Mzi found himself hanging around the entrance waiting to see Thandi. Just to see if she was OK. She had disappeared. Then he told himself that he was a fool to care.

“Your girlfriend’s outside,” a boy told him. “She’s waiting for you.” For a split second Mzi thought he was talking about Thandi, and his heart raced. Then he saw Priscilla’s car. She was waving.

“Hey, sweet potato, let’s cruise. Are you game?” she asked as he came over.

“Ja, sure.” He jumped in. As she steered out between the taxi’s hooting, he looked back to see Thandi behind the school gates, watching. He was torn. Part of him wanted to leap out of the car and go to her, tell her he was sorry the girls had said those things. The other told him-self that she could go to hell with her stupid ad-vice, and that she should stop telling people what was right and wrong. She was no fun an-yway. He felt something shifting again deep in-side him and it made him uneasy.

“I’ve been missing you,” Priscilla said sweetly. Mzi didn’t believe a word – he had left more than one message for her – but right now it was good to be in the car feeling the wind rush by.

Priscilla parked the car on an open piece of land on the edge of the township. She took out a cooler bag full of cold beer. The seats were re-clined. “Just what I was dying for. How did you know I needed a cold beer?” he joked.

They had one beer and he was just beginning to relax and forget about Thandi and her caring. He was glad Priscilla didn’t mention Vuyo, didn’t mention the drugs. Maybe she did care for him. Just then her phone beeped. She laughed as she read the message. Then she gulped down her second beer.

“Mzi, it’s home time now. Before it’s dark, re-member,” she said, standing up.

He was humiliated as she drove him back to his house. He stared out the window silently.

“Sorry, sweetie,” she said pulling up outside the house. “I was planning to have some fun with you but I got a message from Mzobbish. He needs to see me.”

“I’m not good enough for you now,” he said.

“It’s not that, darling.”

“But I can’t give you what they can.” He got out of the car and slammed the door.

“Don’t be like that, sweetie,” she said. “But you have to be a bit more clever, you know. I heard that you lost the drugs. Lucky you paid for them otherwise Mzobbish would be after you.” And then she gave her fake smile and blew him a kiss as she took off.

Who was Priscilla to mock him like that? He wished he had more beer to wash away the bitterness in his heart.