I have to write carefully here. I want to remember everything that happened after the photo-shoot, in the right order.

I go to school on Monday morning as normal.

As I am walking up the main steps, two girls who are sitting together looking at a phone lift their heads to look at me.

“It’s her,” says the one to the other, and they continue to stare at me.

I don’t stop to talk to them. I’m used to people pointing at me, making comments. I stride past them. I have library books to return before my first class.

As I turn the corner of the corridor I see Carmen Hofmeyr and her A-listers. They too, are absorbed in the screen of Carmen’s iPad. That’s our generation for you isn’t it?

I stop in my tracks. If I knew they were going to be at the lockers I would have taken the long route. I know all the ways to get around this school unnoticed; I’m practically a professional spy.

Carmen regards me seriously. “I didn’t know you were a model.” There is a touch of irritation in her voice, something that says, “How do we not know this about you?” She lifts the iPad up and I see what she is looking at.

It’s me. And yet, it’s not me too. The girl in the photo is a fierce bird in flight. She looks brave, fearless; her eyes are glowing.

Could I be that girl? Am I brave enough?

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” I say, and turn around and walk off. I think it is so stupid that you have to be a model to get any respect. But I’ll take that respect for the day if that’s what they’re giving. It will be a nice change.

As we are lining up to go into chemistry, Lunda rushes up to me. “OMW! The calendar is so stunning girl. You’re amaaaazing in the photo. Do you think you’ll ever work for David Tlali … and Gavin Rajah?” That’s Lunda for you. Everything is about celebrity.

“What calendar?” I say, but I know.

She pushes her phone into my face, using her plump thumb to scroll through it.

“This calendar, sweety! Gosh, you are so secretive! I always knew you were cool though. The calendar is sooo edgy; the models all have such a unique look. You know pushing the boundary past stereotyped good looks. Everyone is talking about it. Like, everyone.”

She stresses the word ‘everyone’, and I understand that I am supposed to be impressed. I’m not though. Not really. Still, at least she is talking to me. I guess miracles do happen.

Solomon Ngesi gets his phone confiscated during class because he won’t stop playing on it. Some people giggle. Lunda looks over at me with wide eyes and moves her lips: “He’s looking at you!”

I frown, shake my head. This is getting ridiculous. I don’t need to be focused on like this. I just want to be treated like a normal person.

I, meanwhile, dream of Jonah all through the class. His hair, his lips, his eyebrows – I can remember them all in photographic detail.

When I left the studio on Saturday he leaned in to kiss me goodbye. I freaked out and turned my face a bit so that he ended up kind of just kissing my hair. Terrible, I know. Next time he tries to kiss me I am not going to mess up! My lips will be perfectly prepared, lip-gloss and everything.

During break time, I go to the library. I don’t have a smart phone, so I haven’t seen the calendar yet. I need to go online. I log on. What am I going to search for? In the Google search box, I type: “Unique South Africans Jonah Farrier.”

The calendar is the first hit. I’m surprised as to how many hits it already has. Over a thousand.

Jonah must have a ton of friends. Makes sense. He is so lovely!

I scroll down the calendar, and for each photo, there is a little caption at the bottom, in inverted commas. Mine says: “Bullies can’t get me down, because I know who I am.”

I didn’t know they were going to put the words with the photo! Now everyone will know I am talking about the bullies at my school. They are going to kill me for sure.

Then I lean back and think for a second. So what? I meant what I said. Let them freak out, if they need to. At least I have been quoted. I must learn to stand up for myself. There’s no going back now.

I hear the weirdest rumour before last period. Apparently Charmaine and Kim were teasing a boy in Grade 8, just because he has a big nose. That’s a new one for me. Now, people who have unusual noses are under attack. Who next?

Well, apparently, when they started with the insulting names – Beakface, Varkneus, Hammerhead, Rhinoface and more – he simply looked them in the eyes (so the rumour has it) and said boldly: “Bullies can’t get me down, because I know who I am.”

Imagine! He used my quote! I don’t know if it’s true. You can never believe rumours at this school.

Later in the afternoon I’m at home and Jonah texts me. Now it is me who is glued to the screen. I don’t care. This is important.

Wnt 2 go 2 a movie on the wknd?

No brite lites! Let me kno if ur free!

He remembers about my aversion to strong light. The thought warms me like a little flame in my tummy.

I have heard that it’s bad for girls to message back instantly, but I don’t care. I am not other girls. I am the girl from the photo – brave, striking, making no apologies.

I text back and my fingers feel excited, pressing the little buttons.

Sounds fun! I’d like that!

Fone me Frdy 2 plan?”

I press ‘send’ and grin to myself like a clown. My smile will not go down.

Almost instantly he replies. I guess he doesn’t know about the three-day rule either.

Perfect! Lkin forward. J x

I go to the mirror. What is happening? Am I changing? I look at my face, as I have done a million times. I look at my mouth. It’s smiling. It makes me look different. Not scared. Not like I’m hiding away.

I don’t want to be dramatic, but this feels like the beginning of a new era. Of what, I don’t know. And I don’t care. I’m done with apologising!

“Aggy! Supper!” Mom calls from the kitchen. It strikes me that I haven’t told her anything that happened today. She is going to love it. Mom is the best audience. I bound down the stairs, taking two at a time.

***

Tell us: Has a role model ever helped you change your mind about something? What?