It was summer on campus and the cafeteria was muggy in the late afternoon heat. Most of the wooden benches were full, girls in light cotton dresses, guys in T-shirts and shorts. The Kaff was a meeting place for everyone: the dweebs, the jocks, the hipsters, the geeks, the fashionistas, the nerds. Even a few hardcore punks looking like throwbacks from when Thola’s parents were young.

Talk hummed lazily in the hot air. Thola sat on her own, watching it all. It felt like forever since she’d had the time to be in here. Her workload was killing, but she’d just finished working on her English essay and needed a break. Well, sort of a break. Time to sit down with her laptop and work on her timetable for the next three assignments. Sometimes it felt like it would never end – the research, writing up, checking bibliographies, but Thola loved it. There was nowhere she would rather be than on campus, lucky enough to be a student at university, with everything at her fingertips.

“Thola! Just the person I was hoping to see.”

“Me?” Thola looked up in surprise. There was Max, Desray’s boyfriend, grinning down at her.

He slid onto the bench opposite her and smiled. He was a real alpha, one of those guys who girls swooned over and other guys wanted to be like. Incredibly good looking, charming, quick with a smile or a compliment. And yet, there was something about him … He made her hackles rise, set her antennae quivering on full alert. Maybe it was because he was too quick to smile, too aware of the effect he had on girls. Maybe it was because Desray was besotted with him. Since the day he had asked her out, Desray had said to Thola at least ten times a day that she didn’t know why he had chosen her when there were so many beautiful girls on campus.

Or … maybe it was because he reminded her too much of Mr Nyoka.

The clatter and the rattle of the student cafeteria dulled to a low hum as Thola remembered her matric year. “Call me Tebogo,” he’d said, but Thola couldn’t do that. If she called him Mr Nyoka, that kept him in his correct place in her mind. A teacher. An adult, older than her by at least fifteen years. Someone who should know better, but didn’t. Mr Nyoka was a Mister, with a wife and a family. Three small kids. Thola had seen them when his wife came to pick him up. She’d seen the way he smiled at his wife, with eyes only for her.

The way Max was smiling at her now.

Mr Nyoka and Max didn’t look at all like each other, but there was something about them. The way they could make you feel as if you were the only person in the room, the way they beamed their full attention on you, made you feel special and desirable and beautiful.

For a while.

And by the time you noticed that that was what they did to everyone, it was too late. It was all part of their charm offensive, but their charm was a thin layer, a tissue of vanity and self-admiration. Scratch that glossy, smiling surface and there was nothing underneath. Nothing that could possibly make you want to stay with them. But that didn’t matter, because once you had served their purpose, they threw you away like a dirty rag. So dirty that no amount of washing could ever make it come clean again. People like Mr Nyoka were users, and Thola was pretty sure that he and Max came from the same mould. Max was using Desray, but she was so love-struck she couldn’t see it. And once he was tired of her she’d be on the rubbish pile too, feeling ashamed and dirty and worthless.

“Thola?” Max’s voice broke in on her thoughts.

“Uh, sorry, I was thinking. What were you saying?”

Max looked puzzled and Thola smiled faintly. Guys like him were used to having women hanging on their every word, women aching for their attention. They certainly weren’t used to girls not listening to them.

Max smiled at her again and this time Thola felt her skin crawl. What did he want from her?

“I was asking you if you’ve finished your English assignment yet.”

Max and Thola were in the same tutorial group, and their assignments were due at the end of the week.

Thola patted the folder on the table in front of them.

“Just printed it out now,” she said. “Ready to hand it in to Miss Kunene. It took me forever; no wonder it’s such a large chunk of our year mark. But I loved doing it. Especially the research on English Lit in a twenty-first century world. It made me realise how much there is to learn, what I want to discover.”

“Uh, yeah, right.” Max leaned a little closer and smiled at Thola again. “The thing is, I’ve had a few problems over the last few weeks.”

“Really?” Thola was surprised. “Desray didn’t say anything to me.” And believe me she wanted to add, Desray fills me in on every little detail of the Wonderful World of Marvellous Max.

“Uh, yeah, well …” Max paused and Thola could almost see his brain steaming. “The thing is, I don’t tell her everything, you know. It’s like. Well, you know.” He lowered his voice and leaned even further over the table, as if he was inviting Thola into his world, creating a special space for just the two of them. “Some things are really personal. Like my dad, for instance. I don’t tell Desray about him.”

No, thought Thola, you probably don’t. You tell Desray what she needs to know and nothing more. Guys like you aren’t into sharing, into revealing too much about themselves. If you did that, you’d find it hard to keep the magic alive.

“So you see, the thing is, I’ve been having a really tough time with my dad lately. And it’s been, you know, like really difficult to keep up with work and stuff. Especially this assignment. Which is a real bummer.”

Thola said nothing.

“Seeing as it counts for so many marks,” Max continued.

He smiled his special smile again and in her mind Thola flashed to Mr Nyoka, saw him leaning towards her, one hand on either side of her head, the classroom wall rough on her back and Mr Nyoka’s breath on her neck and his whispered words, delivered with his special smile. “This can be our secret, Thola. A big girl like you knows how to keep a secret. And if you do, I promise never to say a word about Bandile–”

Thola pushed the memory of Mr Nyoka away and focused on Max.

“Yes …?” she said. She could see where this was heading, but she wasn’t going to give Max any help. If he wanted something from her, he was going to have to ask. No hidden meanings, no innuendo. If there was one thing she had learned from Mr Nyoka it was to make sure that everyone knew exactly what was going on, in words that were plain and simple with no room for misunderstanding.

But that didn’t mean that she had to let Max know that she’d seen him out and about. Just a few days ago, as she was on her way back to res from the library, she’d seen him with a bunch of his buddies, staggering home, singing at the top of his voice. Another time she’d seen him getting out of the varsity shuttle bus, and leaning back in to say something to a very pretty girl sitting near the entrance. Stunning her with his smile, leaving her gazing after him with hope and love in her eyes. For someone who was struggling:

a. Max didn’t look like he was battling with personal problems,

b. He seemed to have plenty of time to go out jolling, while

c. People like her were in the library, taking notes, writing an essay, rewriting it, checking her bibliography and making sure all her quotes were referenced properly.

No, if Max wanted something from her, he could lose the smarmy grin and come out with it straight.

He was trying that now. “You know how it is,” he was saying, “when something gets into your head so you can’t concentrate? That’s how it is with my dad. So my problem is, I haven’t had enough time to get all my research for this paper finished.”

“And?” Thola raised an eyebrow.

“So, I was wondering, do you think I could just have a quick look at your notes? To make sure I’m on the right track?”

Thola smiled then, her own special smile, just for Max. “I tell you what, Max, why don’t you show me what you’ve got so far and I’ll tell you if you’re on the right track.”

“Ja, well,” said Max, “that would be cool.” He slid his hand over hers and squeezed slightly. “Only I don’t have anything on me right now. Maybe if I could copy your notes for now and then show you everything?”

“Oh, Max.” Thola slipped her hand out from under his. “I don’t think so.”

***

Tell us what you think: Is what Max is trying to do cheating, or simply asking for help?