It was early morning and Malebogo and I were in registration. Mr Kelebogile was at the front doing his normal Wednesday act: “Cleanliness is next to Godliness”. (Monday’s was: “God loves a clean mind,” and Friday’s was: “God loves obedience”. As you have probably realised by now, Mr Kelebogile was a big God fan.)

No-one was listening except for pious Mabel Kwena, who whispered “Amen” every few minutes. The rest of us used the time as we liked. I was finishing my Maths homework and Malebogo was next to me, making no attempt to hide that she was sound asleep. The snoring didn’t help. It didn’t matter though because Mr Kelebogile, who was about a hundred years old, was slightly deaf and nearly blind behind his ten-centimetre-thick spectacles. We could have been having a disco party and he would have continued on about how God knew if your ears were dirty, which I doubted since I would suspect God is pretty busy with war, and world hunger, and environmental destruction. There’s no way he’s checking behind the ears of every kid in Two A.

So we were busy not paying attention and it took three hard knocks at the door, plus Mma Morta finally poking her head inside and shouting, “Mr Kelebogile!” before he noticed she was there. Mma Morta’s the headmistress. Everyone kept quiet and looked her way since Mma Morta arriving at registration meant one thing – someone was in for it. Now we just waited to find out who that someone was.

“Good morning, Mr Kelebogile,” she said. “I have quite a surprise for you.”

She moved aside and behind her there was a boy. Not just any boy though. A very handsome boy. With those kind of eyes songs describe as bedroom eyes, and that perfectly-shaped sort of mouth everybody wished they had. He was tall, but not gawky tall like Michael: just-right tall. And a bit wide, like maybe he played rugby.

I was taking in the beauty when Malebogo woke with a start and looked toward the door. “Am I dreaming?” she mumbled.

“Nope. It looks like he’s a new student. And the only free seat is next to me.”

Mma Morta moved to the side so the boy could move closer to Mr Kelebogile. “Here’s your new student, Reginald,” she said.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely healthy girl,” Mr Kelebogile said.

Mma Morta whispered in his ear, though of course for him it had to be loud enough that we all heard it. “He’s a boy.”

“Yes, of course, yes…” Mr Kelebogile leaned forward to get a better look. “Okay, Reginald. Welcome. You find an empty seat. Children, welcome the new student.”

“Hello Reginald,” the class said, as Reginald took the seat next to me.

“Dikeledi,” Mr Kelebogile said to me, “Please keep an eye on our new student today will you?”

“I think we’ll all be keeping an eye on that one,” Malebogo whispered to me.

“Yes Sir,” I said. I smiled at Reginald. He looked at me for a moment and turned to face the front where Mr Kelebogile had moved on to the importance of short fingernails. Reginald acted like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard. He did all he could not to look at me. What was that about?

I lost all hope then and there. I knew that he was one of them. One of the rich kids – and that he wouldn’t want anything to do with the likes of me.

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Tell us what you think: Is Dikeledi being too harsh with her judgement of Reginald?