Rosebank Station

I am now certain that Nwabisa will get off the train at Rosebank station. Just one station before Rondebosch and I have lost my chance with this intelligent, beautiful girl. As we pull into the station she takes out her cellphone, a cool looking HTC Bravo and starts texting. I am relieved that she isn’t leaving now, but anxious about what she is texting to Busi. Possibly, “he’s an idiot” or “what a loser” or “meet me at Rondebosch Common. I can’t be alone with him!” or just “Help!”

In the silence I take out my R250 Nokia and text my friend Stevo, praying that he might have some wise words. But all I get is silence, while Nwabisa is engaged in a frenzied fingering of to-and-fro texting with Busi.

The train is suddenly bursting with people as more university students get on board. The air is suddenly filled with the scent of AXE, Tommy Hilfiger and Armani. There is the excited chattering about the concert, about food in students’ residence, parties and after parties. Some older guys come and stand close to where we are. They are eyeing Nwabisa, she smiles back at them. She is soaking up the attention.

Insecurity overcomes me and I desperately tap my phone waiting for something from Stevo. Then one of the guys asks Nwabisa, “What faculty are you from?” She looks slightly confused.

“What? Sorry?”

“What faculty are you from? Uhm… what degree are you doing?”

“Oh, I am not. I mean, we are not at varsity. But we are going to the concert.”

“You just seem so mature, and have a whole student vibe about you. Sorry.” He is flirting with her! “I am sure you will love the concert. I love Zahara’s music. Have you heard her perform before?

“No,” she says, “This is my first concert. Are you a musician?”

“No. But I am at the drama school. I’m Dave, and this is my friend, Lerato.” They introduce themselves to her, and then to me out of politeness.

“You guys seem so cool. Shall we sit together?”

My insides are screaming “NOOO!”

Nwabisa looks at me, but before she can answer her cell beeps to announce a new text message. Now I hope her texting does take a while, anything to stop her from talking to these cool guys. I look at the guys and shrug. Then I text Stevo again to say HELP! .And then suddenly my date with Nwabi is rescued…by a newspaper seller…

“SAVE YOUR BATTERY, BUY A NEWSPAPER!” I hear the shout as we pull into Rondebosch Station.

Tell us what you think: What is going to happen next?