I want to walk to Mrs Harris’s house after school. I must know why she’s abandoning us — me — during the most crucial phase of our school careers. I want to knock down her door and demand answers, but in the end, I decide not to.

Later, when we’re all huddled around the table with deep-dish pizzas spread out in front of us, our beloved headmistress is all anyone talks about.

I’m picking at my pizza with my fork while I listen to everyone lamenting.

Then suddenly the fork is taken from my hand, and Luke starts cutting my slice into bite-sized pieces. I stare at him.

“I thought you might actually eat something if they were cut into neat little chunks,” he says, handing me the fork with a pizza bite impaled on the end.

Despite the pain of today’s news, I laugh and accept the pizza chunk.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Luke asks me. His blue eyes are clear and honest. And I’m a liar and a thief who does not deserve his kindness.

Next thing I know, I’m in tears and people are passing serviettes to me. Luke asks the waitress to package the rest of my meal and he buys me a big chocolate milkshake to go.

“Let me drive you home,” he insists.

I ask him to take me to the nearest bus stop instead. I can’t bring him home. Besides, with my trusty pen I can brave the long walk in the dark.

We are silent on the drive over.

It seems like Luke wants to say something before I leave the car. Under the moonlight, he looks like a movie star, with his sharp jaw and soft hair that keeps falling into his eyes. He always annoyed me with how much he studied, but the more I get to know him, the worse I feel about stealing his answer sheet.

“Matric is a very sad year, Khanya,” he says. “We are leaving everything behind. You were going to have to say goodbye to Mrs H anyway — I’m sorry if that doesn’t bring you comfort.”

I stare out the windshield.

“But at least you got to know her. I’ve spent the last five years with my head in books, stealing glances at the girl I liked but was too shy to speak to.”

I smile, trying to guess who he’s talking about.

“You know what I’ll miss most about high school?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“You, loudly crunching your red apple in the corner.”

***

I didn’t want to leave the car after what Luke told me. I could have stayed there forever and just listened to him speak … He’s like some modern-day poet who doesn’t need to steal my stationery to get my attention.

Just before I reach the house, I take out the notebook and write down the magic words to unfreeze time.

My mother is at the front door when I arrive. She looks very angry.

But I don’t get the expected lecture on how dangerous the township is at night.

I put the pizza in our fridge and take a long drink from my milkshake. I offer a sip to my mom, but she declines.

“Where were you today, ha?” she asks.

I remind her I worked at the doughnut shop.

“Ubuphi namhlanje!”

As if the answer’s going to change if she asks me in Xhosa.

I don’t want to fight with her, but she follows me to my room, opens the door even after I’ve closed it.

“I went to the Doughnut Ring today,” she says. “To take you for lunch. You work so hard and did so good in maths. Then—” she chokes up. “Then the manager tell me you quit. Four weeks ago!”

The blood drains from my face.

“Where did you get the money for this, ha?!” She waves her cell phone. “For all the food you buy?!”

I panic and say the worst thing I can.

“I have a rich boyfriend, okay!”

My mother grounds me for the rest of the holidays and vows to call Mrs Harris in the morning. The mention of my headmistress pulls my throat tight, makes me want to sob.

How did I get into this mess….

The answer hangs heavily around my neck, threatening to choke me.

Tell us: Why do you think Khanya’s mother is so angry with her?