“Aren’t you going to tell your parents where you’re going?” he asks me. And there I was thinking that would be uncool.

“Of course.”

“I’ll wait here. I’m not going anywhere,” he calls after me, as I turn to see if he is still there. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I run into the water. It suddenly feels very inviting. I swim out to where my mom and dad are having ‘fun in the sun’. They really are; they look totally different, like they are young again, and not stressed by work, and bringing money in, and … and …

“I’m going for a walk.” I wonder whether to tell them about my new friend. But I decide not to.

“Well, be careful,” says my mom. “You’re smiling! I can’t believe it. Does this mean you are beginning to enjoy yourself?”

“I’ve changed my attitude,” I laugh. “I’ve decided to have ‘fun in the sun’ too.”

“See you later. Don’t forget we have tea with your granny. We can’t be late.”

“So, where are we going?” I ask the boy. I’m out of breath from sprinting back across the sand, trying to impress, but feeling my butt wobbling and everything shaking as I run.

“Don’t you want to know my name?” He has such a sparkle in his eyes, like he’s teasing me all the time. “You know you really shouldn’t just go off with a stranger.”

“So, what’s your name?” I say cheekily.

“Bongi … and you?”

“Busi.”

“Mmm, nice name. It suits you.”

“How come you have a Zulu name?” I ask him. Hoping this isn’t rude.

“My dad is Zulu, my mom is white. And me I’m–”

“You’re perfect.” The words just come flying out. I can’t believe I said that. But he laughs.

“Thanks,” he says. “You’re pretty perfect yourself. Come,” he continues, “I want to show you something.”

I follow him down the beach. We are walking to the far end where the rocks rise up steeply from the sand and there is a path into what looks like a wild forest. We are walking further and further away from people. He must sense me getting nervous.

He smiles. “Don’t be nervous. You can still see your mom and dad from there.”

And I feel stupid for doubting him. He doesn’t lead me into the forest, but down to the rock pools. “Come here,” he says, leaning over one of the pools. “Stay still. Watch and wait.”

The sun is burning my back and I remember that I forgot to put on sunscreen. We must have been there, squatting by the pool in silence, for five minutes. Every time I want to talk he puts his finger against my lips. “Not yet,” he whispers.

Then I see it. First two long arms, with all these tentacles reaching out from under the rock, curling, the suckers searching, then more arms come out, then a large sack with eyes. It swims fast across the pool. I shout and leap back.

“What is it?”

“Don’t be afraid, it’s only an octopus. I come here often, just to see if he’s still here.” He puts his arm around me. “Sorry to give you a fright. It’s really beautiful if you watch him, you’ll see.”

I calm down and we watch until the creature hides under a rock. “See, he’s just shy, like me.”

“I’ve got to go to my gran’s,” I tell him as we walk back down the beach. I want to ask him if I will see him tomorrow, but that would be uncool. I want to ask him lots of things: where he lives, where his family is, why he is at the beach alone, if he has a girlfriend…

“Race you to your towel,” he laughs and we are running. We get there out of breath and for a moment, the way he looks at me, I think he’s going to kiss me. But then he picks up my towel and hands it to me.

“I have to go,” I say, uncertainly. It’s the last thing I want to do. What if this is the last time I see him? But my mom and dad are waving at me and tapping their wrists, to say … it’s time.

“Seriously, you have to go?” He reaches out and touches my cheek.“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I want to ask him if he will definitely be here, but I can’t. Boys freak out if you’re needy, my friends tell me. So I turn and have to walk away. Every step I get further away from him, my heart feels like it’s being left behind. I keep turning to see if he is still there.

My dad is waiting impatiently to get back to his mom’s food.

My mom rolls her eyes. “Nobody makes better food, according to your dad,” she sighs.“Who were you waving at?” she asks.

“A friend I made,” I say. But when I turn to look back at the beach he is gone.

***

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