“So, what happened after I left?” Naledi asked on Saturday afternoon. I’d been attempting to dodge that conversation for some time now.

“Nothing. Why?” Did that sound as paranoid as I thought it did?

“I’m just asking. Don’t go all weird.”

“But nothing happened. He walked me home. That’s it.”

Naledi had her long legs spread out on the floor of my bedroom and she was reaching for her toes, stretching her back muscles. She sat up straight again. “He’s weird neh? He’s cute but that’s about it. He doesn’t like loud music. He can’t dance – at all. He likes mucking about in the bush and reading. He’s so not like me. But he’s very cute. He has the cutest little bum … and those eyes! But I doubt it will last.”

“Yes, he sounds awful. I don’t know how you manage.” I felt like a traitor saying that when I knew he was lovely … more than lovely … fantastic in fact.

He had walked me to my house the night before even though his car was in the other direction. We talked about birds and bugs. Then about the music we liked and the books we’d read. And he was so handsome. But he was so much more too. He was interesting and more importantly, interested in me. Naledi was right; he had nothing in common with her. In theory they shouldn’t even be together. But they were – and that’s what I needed to remind myself of. He was Naledi’s boyfriend and whatever feelings I thought I had for him I had to ignore.

“You know actually, when I think about it – you and he would be perfect together.” Then she laughed. “But I know you. You’re waiting for Mr Right. You can’t waste your precious time with someone like Baboloki.”

She was right of course. That was my policy. You needed policies that you followed if you expected to have any type of an organised and sensible life. Like my policy of not lusting after my best friend’s boyfriend. It made life less complicated. I needed to stick to the policies and everything would be fine.

Yes, Naledi was correct; I was waiting for ‘Mr Right’. The only problem was that I was starting to think his name was Baboloki.

*****

One good thing about my Baboloki problem was that he didn’t go to our school. He went to a school the other side of town, so the chances of me bumping into him were slim. Weeks went by and I never saw him. The more I didn’t see him, the easier it was to think the whole night had been some crazy mix-up caused by the onset of flu, just as I suspected.

As time passed I forgot how sweet he was. I forgot just how amazing his smile was. I forgot how he was the first boy I’d ever met who actually listened when I talked about owls. Slowly, slowly I forgot I might be in love with him.

School was nearly finished and I was busy studying for my matric exams. I saw less of Naledi too which made things easier, since when we were together she usually spoke about Baboloki. Everything she said took me back to that magical night with him and then it would be days before I stopped thinking about him constantly.

The last week of my school career, when I had only the second English paper to write, Naledi phoned. When I picked up the phone I got such a fright. She was crying and crying.

“Naledi? Naledi? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Baboloki. He says he wants us to break up.”

“Break up?” I tried to not let my excitement show.

“Yes! He says he wants to be alone for a while to think about things.”

“I’m sorry Naledi. But you remember you said you didn’t really like him that much anyway. Maybe it’s for the best. Now you can find someone better.” I wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true, but why did I feel a bit slimy about it? Why did I feel like I was siding with the wrong team?

Naledi was quiet for a bit. I grew certain that she was finally on to me, I was sure she understood now that I was happy she and Baboloki had broken up. But then she said, “Yes, maybe you’re right. Thanks, Kea, neh? You’re a good friend.”

I hung up the phone and first felt guilty. What kind of friend was I?

But then the excitement kicked in – Baboloki was a free man.

***

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