By now Lesedi and Siboniso are spending most of their free time together, either at the Yeoville flat or at Siboniso’s place close to the Academy. Lesedi has got to know the guys he shares with, a student and a barista, and Siboniso is a popular visitor with Zotha and Mariel.
“Our nights aren’t going to be so easy, now that the rehearsal schedule has been announced,” Siboniso says one evening, arriving in Yeoville with two pizza boxes, as he and Lesedi grab a quick private moment before joining the others.
“I know, with ballet and contemporary having different times, and really late…hey everyone, look what Siboniso has brought.”
“I got extra as Lesedi said Nails was coming round…my man! Good to see you. You back with the Academy?”
“Will be, off and on, doing a few basic sets when you get going with your shows. You all got big starring roles, I’m betting.”
“More like all-star casts for the main contemporary dance pieces,” Siboniso says.
“Don’t be so humble, mister.” Zotha grabs the pizza boxes. “Has he told you yet, Lesedi?”
Lesedi looks at Siboniso enquiringly. “Told me what?”
“I might be doing something just a little bit spectacular, like a solo,” he admits, modestly, and quickly changes the direction of the conversation. “What about you ballet types?”
“He means you, Lesedi,” Mariel teases. “Me being the only other ballet type present.”
“Something a little left field. I mean, how often do you see a pas de deux for two females? But this is from a newish ballet. I’m one half of it, and guess who the other girl is? Tibuyile, the girl who used to be with Bheka before me.”
“The ex’s ex,” Siboniso laughs.
“For a moment there I thought my girl Lesedi was being tactless, bringing Bheka into the conversation,” Mariel says. “I’m happy to see you’re cool with her past things, brother.”
“Hey, everyone has a history,” Siboniso says, easily.
“But it doesn’t have to affect our present,” Lesedi says, hoping she’s right, but remembering how Siboniso thought he’d seen Bheka in Newtown, and those other times she’d imagined she had glimpsed him. “Touch wood,” she adds.
“What’s wrong?” Siboniso asks her, always sensitive to her changes of mood.
“I don’t know.” She hesitates, but everyone here is a friend, so she doesn’t mind admitting, “I just have moments of thinking I’m so happy right now, that I’m going to attract bad luck of something…stupid, right?”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he responds. “In a way, when you find something special and worth having, you lose your peace of mind.”
When you find love, he means, Lesedi knows. She shrugs off her brief fearfulness and gives him a radiant smile as she grabs a slice of pizza, suddenly ravenous now that she’s put her anxiety aside.
“OK, not stupid, maybe just a bit…”
“Silly?” Zotha suggests.
“I think I mean ungrateful,” Lesedi corrects her. “When we have something good, we need to treasure it, look after it, because that’s how we won’t lose it.”
Her eyes meet Siboniso’s. He nods slightly, letting her know he agrees with her.
Tell us: Why would finding love mean losing your peace of mind?