The passage is a tight space but very short, so I enter and exit in seconds. I emerge at the other end to see a red Fiat with the lights on bright, blinding me as I approach. Moses steps out to meet me.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey. You’re crazy! What are you doing here?” The butterflies in my stomach are celebrating.

“You are the crazy one. What are you doing meeting me out here in the dark?” Moses takes my hand and opens the car door. I step in, feeling suddenly wobbly at the knees, and confused as to why.

The day has taken a crazy turn! If you had told me this morning that Moses would be at my house in the evening I would have laughed.

“The McDonald’s at The Plaza is still open. Should we get some ice-cream?” offers Moses.

“No thanks. That will take too long, I told Ma I was fetching something from Lelo.”

“Okay, maybe some other time then.”

“Did your Dad let you drive here at this time?”

“He’s away on business.”

“So you stole his car?”

“No, he took his car with him. This is my brother’s car.”

“So then you stole your brother’s car?”

“No, I didn’t steal it, I borrowed it. Sure, I lied about where I was going but I didn’t steal it.”

“So what if something happens to you here … or to the car, then what?”

“Gcina you worry too much. Nothing is going to happen.”

There is silence for a few seconds. I look out the window on my side, but Moses takes my hand in his. I try hard not to show him how good his touch feels.

“Gcina Nxumalo,” he says. I take a slight breath, trying not to draw it in too quickly or heavily. Moses is a hunk, but I have never been into that kind of stuff. And I sure am not the girl that hangs out in boy’s cars after dark – but Moses all of a sudden makes me weak and all my defences come down.

“So what’s your problem with text lingo?” he says.

“I think it’s immature.”

“Hmm,” Moses smirks.

“In my opinion bad grammar is unattractive. You’ll get used to using it you know, and in the real world it’s unprofessional.”

“Wow, okay Miss Nxumalo. So what do you find attractive?”

I try to force back a smile, but fail dismally. I have no idea how to answer that question. When I used the word I didn’t mean it in the way that Moses is now using it.

“Look Gcina, about the study group. Nombulelo is absolutely welcome to join us. When I said what I said earlier I only meant that I wanted to see more of you. And I’m hoping you want to see more of me, outside of school and SRC meetings.”

“This definitely isn’t school, and it sure doesn’t seem like an SRC meeting,” I lower my voice. It sounds kind of husky and sexy. Moses smiles.

God his smile is beautiful, I think.

“Gcina, are we safe parked here?” Moses asks, looking around and into the rear-view mirror.

“Oh, now you’re concerned about safety?”

Moses laughs and I giggle. “We’re fine,” I assure him, “but let’s not stay too long though.” Moses nods.

“So there was a fire here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay? Were you not affected?”

“We were, our things got burnt, but Mama and I ran out before …” I pause.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it if you’re uncomfortable,” says Moses.

“No I’m okay. It’s just that it was a horrible experience and … but yeah we are okay now.”

Moses smiles. He is still cupping my hand with both of his and there is an energy surging between us like an electric current. Moses leans towards me and tilts my chin with the tips of his fingers. He kisses me gently.

His lips are soft and warm and magnetic. He gently pushes his tongue into my mouth, from pure instinct I automatically respond with my tongue gently circling his. The motion is a turn-on for him; I can feel it.

He pulls back and looks into my eyes like he can see the splendour of the entire universe in them. I stare back, silently begging for more. Moses pulls my face towards him with both his hands on my cheeks – and we kiss again, harder and rougher this time, pressing into each other’s faces. I can feel my nipples hardening, and I become wet and warm down there. My whole body tingles.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Comes a rough knock on the driver’s car window.

The romance comes to an abrupt halt and we sit back, shocked, in our seats. I lean across to see, then take a deep breath. “Roll the window down. I know him.”

“Are you sure?” asks Moses. The knock comes again.

“Yes, I’m sure, open the window!” I am getting impatient. Moses rolls down the window. “Hello bhuti Sam, ndim’uGcina,” I fake a huge smile.

“Oh Gcina, is that you?”

“Ewe bhuti Sam. This is Moses; he goes to my school and he was just leaving.”

“Okay Gcina, I just needed to check ne?”

“Enkosi bhuti Sam.”

“Okay it’s late kodwa, your friend should go ne.”

“Ewe uyahamba ngoku.”

Bhuti Sam walks away and joins two other guys who walk out from the passage. Together they walk up the main road, carrying whips.

“What was that?” asks Moses.

“Neighbourhood Watch. That was Sam; he’s part of the patrolling team. Shit, shit shit!”

“What? Will he tell your mom?”

“No, he probably won’t, but now he’ll look at me funny and this is how gossip starts, then it might get to my mom.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault,” says Moses.

“No it isn’t. It’s just that it could have been someone different, someone older, someone who is close to my mom.”

“I understand Gcina. I don’t want to get you into trouble. Go home, we’ll talk on WhatsApp.”

As I open the door, Moses takes my arm. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Thank you, it’s fine Moses.”

“Text me when you’re in the house, or should I walk you?” asks Moses.

“No. That’s not necessary. As soon as I’m through the passage it’ll take me less than a minute.”

“Okay, I’m gonna wait for your text though.”

Lying on my bed I touch my lips – the effects of Moses’ kiss still linger, along with his scent. I wonder, if like me, Moses is replaying the kiss over and over, in his mind.

We continue to text until 2am; discussing school, general stuff and, of course, the kiss.

***

Tell us what you think: Is Moses being genuine with Gcina?