Baboloki leaned in towards me. “The music is so loud. It’s killing me.”

I thought about how he smelled, like strawberry jelly, and then immediately thought how I should not be smelling my BFF’s boyfriend. No. No. No. Wrong.

I watched Naledi dancing with her friends and wondered how I could be so horrible. How could I fall in love with Naledi’s boyfriend? That’s evil. Friends don’t do that. I was not that kind of person. I give money to ‘Save the Dolphin’ charity. People who give money to Save the Dolphin do not go around willy-nilly falling in love with people that belong to other people. I convinced myself I must be getting the flu. It was not love – it was the flu. Did I have a fever? I thought perhaps I might have.

Naledi rushed up to the table with her friend Inka. Inka was foreign. I don’t know from where, but a cold place with little sun. Everything about her was untouched by the sun’s rays: pale hair, light blue eyes, ivory skin.

“Vee ah goving to za party. Do you come?” Inka said.

“Let’s go,” Naledi said, pulling at my arm, the earlier argument already forgotten.

“Go exactly where?” I asked, attempting to stay put.

“To some party the other side of town.”

“I’m sorry, Naledi,” Baboloki said. “I can’t go and I need to get home. My car is still parked where I left it.”

“Me too. I’m getting up early tomorrow. I have an appointment,” I said.

“Fine! I’ll go with Inka. Later!” she waved and was gone, not angry – just busy. Too busy for us. Not concerned now what we did with ourselves. Just gone to the party in her head already.

I held out my hand to Baboloki, trying to keep it business-like. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

Oooh… he had lovely hands. Strong and soft at the same time. No. No. No. No ‘soft hands’ thoughts!

“Why don’t I walk you home? It’s not good to walk alone at night.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer. He stood up, without letting go of my hand. I quickly kicked off the torture devices posing as shoes, and, holding hands still, we wove our way through the club and out into the cool, quiet night air.

“Glad to be out of there!” I said. I looked down at our hands still attached to each other. He looked too and then realised such hand-holding might be seen as wrong since he had a girlfriend, and he let go.

“Yes … me too,” he said. “The club is not really my scene.”

“Me neither.”

He looked at my slinky top and micro-mini. “Really? You look like the club is your regular hang-out.”

I shook my head, holding up the shoes dangling from my finger. “Not my scene and not my clothes.” He laughed.

“Naledi?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“She’s a big personality.”

“Yep.”

We walked for a while in silence, hearing just the cars passing and the sound of the club slowly disappearing behind us. “So Keamogetse, tell me about you.”

I wondered when anyone had asked me that before. Since I was usually with Naledi, no-one really saw me: Naledi was just too big a presence. I didn’t mind it much, but I wasn’t used to having attention on me, and now I was lost about what to say.

“Me? There’s not much to tell.”

“I’m sure there is. To me you look like a girl with an interesting story.”

He smiled and I tried to remind myself that my flipping stomach was flu. Only flu. Not the fact that he was beautiful. Flu. Flu. Flu. I should be sure to take some of my mum’s medicine when I got home, I reminded myself. The horrible, black sticky one.

“What’s a girl like you do for fun if you don’t like going to the club? What appointment do you have on a Saturday morning?”

“A bird-watching trip.” It slipped out before I remembered that an 18-year-old girl going bird-watching was considered by most people as weird.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I like birds, owls mostly. I like owls quite a lot. I want to be an ornithologist – that’s a bird scientist. I’ve always loved birds. Sorry, I know that sounds severely uncool.”

“Actually … no. If I tell you something do you swear to tell no-one? Especially not Naledi?”

I looked at him. I wondered what the ethics were for making secret pacts with your best friend’s boyfriend, but I agreed anyway.

“I like insects. I have a huge collection; I started it when I was a kid. And I want to be an entomologist, a guy who studies insects. So, if you think birds are nerdy, try beetles and butterflies.”

“Really? Who would have guessed an uber-cute guy like you would be a bug collector?” At first I thought I’d only said those words in my head, but then it became clear by the look on Baboloki’s face that I hadn’t.

And then he said, “The same ones who would have thought a girl with such beautiful eyes and cute dimples wouldn’t spend her time in the bush looking for a barn owl.”

Did I hear that? Was that my BFF’s boyfriend flirting with me? No. No. No. Can’t be.

I’m going to hell. For sure now.

***

Tell us what you think: What would you do if you were Keamogetse?