Ntombi and Khanyi sit in the benches at the front of the school and watch the scenes playing out around them.
“Do you see how friendly those three are with each other?” says Khanyi, pointing at Mr Rycliffe, their Afrikaans teacher, Miss Fanteni, their Maths teacher, and Mr Canterbury, their English teacher. “They give us bad marks and then they laugh about it at lunch. Someone should throw tear gas in that staff room. We’d see who would laugh after that.”
“Hay’suka nawe, Khanyi, you didn’t study. I didn’t fail their tests mna.”
Khanyi laughs. “If this school did an advert, they’d use you. You’re best friends with all the teachers I hate. What’s up with that?”
“It’s easy. Ntsika taught me all his tricks about how to charm people. You just have to smile, say please and thank you, and nod like you’re listening to everything they’re saying.”
A naughty smile appears on Khanyi’s face. “Your brother is so cute,” she says, placing her hand on Ntombi’s shoulder. “If only I was eighteen, I’d make sure he knows about me. How old is he, again?”
Ntombi frowns. Why did she have to mention Ntsika’s name?
Khanyi laughs and rolls her big eyes. She tucks the braids that are dangling over her eyes, behind her ears. “Relax, Ntombi. Don’t look so panicked. I won’t throw myself at him. Yaz, sometimes you’re too sensitive about this stuff wena.”
The cheeky smile on Khanyi’s face disappears. “That guy gets on my nerves,” she says, staring at one of the students near the tuck shop.
Ntombi scans the faces in the sea of red school blazers. Her eyes settle on a chubby and dreadlocked Nhlahla. Khanyi is looking directly at him. “Look at him, a boy with long red nails. Does he think pretending to be a girl will turn him into one?”
Ntombi wants to stand up for Nhlahla and tell Khanyi that what she said is wrong but she can’t. Khanyi looks back at Ntombi. “Why do you look so surprised? D’you forget what he did? He cut in front of me in the line yesterday! Didn’t even apologise.”
“Let’s talk about something else, Khanyi. Talking about Nhlahla, it’s not gonna change anything.”
“His attitude, that’s what it’s gonna change. Why do moffies think they can be rude to us? I’m nice to all of them. I was nice to this idiot.”
“Maybe he’s not a … Maybe he’s got a girl.”
Khanyi gives Ntombi a look of disbelief. “Do you have a moffie friend I don’t know about? What makes you think he’s got a chick?”
Only silence can hide Ntombi’s discomfort. She looks out at the flood of students trying to get through the tuck-shop queue before lunch break is over.
“Mnxim, wena kanjani, you’re acting like the mother of all moffies,” continues Khanyi, making sure to get the last word in.
***
Tell us: Why is Ntombi so uncomfortable about their conversation?