“It is hot, yho!” Bokang complained.

“Mfethu. At this point, I’m convinced that the ozone layer is no more in South Africa. Each year, it gets hotter and hotter,” Thapelo said, taking a sip of Coke from the crystal glass.

“Imagine those who live in shacks.”

“Those, ah, they are being fried, straight.”

Thapelo was chilling with his best friend Bokang under the tree. It was a relaxed Saturday. Two empty 2-litre bottles of Coca-Cola were strewn near them. They were finishing off their third one.

Bokang burst out with laughter. “And wena you are dark, your skin is absorbing all this heat.”

“You see now? You are getting out of line,” said Thapelo, frowning.

“But it is a fact. My skin is reflecting the heat, yet I still feel it, so imagine you. You must be feeling what I’m feeling, but ten times more.” Bokang nearly fell from the plastic chair he was sitting on with laughter.

Thapelo poured the last Coke into his glass and drank. His friend could be stupid sometimes.

Bokang continued to torment him. “Imagine if you were living in a shack too, iyho! I don’t want to see it.”

“This heat is burning you, that you are starting to talk crazy now. They are not lying when they say heat can drive a person insane.”

Thapelo gulped all the drink in his glass and took out his phone, while his friend carried on laughing like an idiot. He quickly logged into his Facebook account and started scrolling through the news feed.

“Lol,” he said.

“Lol what?” Bokang asked, composing himself.

“Are you done laughing at your stupid jokes?”

“Oh, come on, that was funny, you know it.”

Thapelo rolled his eyes. How did he end up with an idiot like this as his friend?

He scrolled on his phone. Facebook was also boring. Just a bunch of feminists sharing their think pieces again. Don’t they ever get tired? I mean, it was hot, but they were still talking about toxic masculinity and fragile masculinity. Psh!

Ding! Ding! A Facebook notification sounded.

He tapped on the notifications.

“Tsholo shared a picture!”

He quickly pressed it, and there were four pictures of Tsholo blessing his screen that had lightning-like cracks on it.

“Holy shit!” He bulged his eyes.

“What is it?” Bokang asked him.

Thapelo didn’t hear his friend.

“Eh baba! What is it?” Bokang asked again.

Thapelo didn’t hear anything. He was starstruck by the pictures. He was busy zooming each and every one of them, and reacting with hearts.

He tapped to comment.

“Oh my, oh my! Looking bomb!” he included a grenade emoji, and a lot of hearts and fire emojis. When he was about to press send, the phone got snatched from his hands.

“What the?!” he exclaimed.

“Let me see what has you blushing so badly.” Bokang stood up to avoid Thapelo’s reaching hands. “Oh, I see. Tsholo again!”

“What do you mean ‘Tsholo again’?” Thapelo was confused by this statement.

“Don’t ask me that; you know what I mean.” Bokang stopped, as if he was reading something. “She’s in a bikini, boy!”

Thapelo snatched his phone back when his friend started talking crazy. “Yeah, I saw that.”

“Did you read the caption? I bet you didn’t, that bikini has your eyes trapped. She’s at the pool. We can go there, and you can finally submit your CV, know what I mean?” Bokang blinked his eye at him mischievously.

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” he lied.

“You are lying. Anyway, I happen to have two five-rand coins from the change of the col’ drinks, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Thapelo asked.

“To the pool!”

“In this heat? Plus, it’s far!” Thapelo complained.

“Oh, come on! You act like we haven’t gone to the pool when the sun was way hotter than this.” Bokang mocked him.

“Uhm,” Thapelo stammered

“What? Are you scared of Tsholo?”

“Me? Scared of Tsholo? Psh!” Thapelo rolled his eyes.

“Then you won’t mind going there and asking her out?”

Thapelo ran his hand through his small dreadlocks.

“Come on, bruh! For how long are you going to let your gwababa come in the way of you getting this girl?”

“Me? Gwababa? Who said I have a gwababa?”

“Then why haven’t you asked her out?”

“Because…because…because I haven’t had a chance to, okay? And I don’t want to make things awkward between us. You know ‘mjolo.” He knew he was lying, but he hoped his friend bought it.

“I’m not going to stand here and listen to this nonsense. I’m going home to fetch my swimming shorts. And when I return, I want to find you with yours, too.” Bokang started to leave. “And when we get there, you are talking to this girl, and you are asking her out.”

Thapelo got anxious. He wasn’t scared of Tsholo. Bokang was talking nonsense. He would ask her out when they get there.

“I will,” he told himself.

Heading to his room to look for his shorts, he unlocked his phone and stared at those photos again. This time he felt himself blushing.

Tell us: what do you think this gwababa is?