It was only a year later that she told Nasleen a little of her story. It was on the afternoon of their matric dance, and they were getting ready at Nasleen’s house. They had each done their own faces and were now taking turns painting each other’s nails, waiting for Shereen and Leila to arrive. Nasleen’s dad popped his head round the door and laughed at them.

“Shame, it’s a pity your dad won’t be seeing you tonight,” Nasleen said. And somehow, with Nasleen focusing on her fingers rather than her face, she told her a brief version of her story. She was surprised to see how calmly Nasleen reacted. “It’s not really surprising, you know,” she said. “I knew there must be a reason why Shereen’s mom kicked him out so fast.”

“Ja, that’s one thing that’s got to me, you know,” said Misah. “How come Shereen and her mom just chucked him out like that? What does that say about me and my mom putting up with his shit for so long? Sometimes I think my mom was weak. And so was I.”

“Kak,” said Nasleen, and shrugged. “I’d prefer to have your mom as a mom than Shereen’s mom, any day. Maybe she gave your dad a black eye but she’s not great to Shereen. Your mom’s kind. And the guy was your dad, not just sommer any old boyfriend!”

Misha thought about this, and felt something relax deep within. “You’re right, I guess. As Miss Hogan says in Life Orientation, we’ve all got STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES.” She mocked Miss Hogan’s slow emphatic expression.

“And now is the time for me to tell you,” said Nasleen in a solemn, Miss Hogan sort of tone, “about one of your really major weaknesses. I hope you are going to cope with this, but accept it as CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM and don’t be afraid to ASK FOR HELP. The way you put on make-up is – is –”, she looked for an appropriate word – “is APPALLING.”

Misha threw a pillow at her and they both screeched with laugther. “Seriously, though,” said Nasleen, you really have overdone it a bit. Come let me just take off some of that stuff, you look like a doll, or even -.”

“Don’t you dare say it!” said Misha. And as she sat there in front of the mirror, looking at Nasleen’s look of absorbed concentration as she wiped and stroked her face, she thought about her mother who was going to come to see her before she left for the dance, and about Honore who no doubt was getting ready himself. And she almost had to ask Nasleen to stop putting on her eye shadow as tears of happiness sprang to her eyes.

The End.