“Banele, are you still angry at me?” I asked him, as he walked me home.

I hated it when he sulked and wouldn’t talk to me. I loved him, he was my life. He meant everything to me. He was in grade 11 and I was in grade 9. He was tall and dark skinned, he had neat dreadlocks on his head, and his sides were low. He was a bit chubby, and soft. He had beautiful black lips, and he played guitar. I loved to watch his fingers, when he pulled on the guitar strings.

“No.” He frowned.

I watched as his jaw flexed. He was really angry at me. He kicked a bottle of his way.

“Banele, I’m sorry. I know how hard being with me is.” I apologized.

He looked at me, his eyes boring holes into mine. 

“I shouldn’t have said all that stuff. It just..it gets frustrating sometimes, babe. I’m a guy, I have needs. My friends are tapping girls every weekend, and I’m home kissing till I turn blue.” Banele said.

I sighed. This was hard, he knew I wouldn’t give up my virginity, not even to keep him. Banele was popular with the girls, they liked him. He was known for his bad boy and Playa reputation, I was the only girl he dated for 6 months. 

“If you love me, you’ll wait, Banele.” I told him.

He shrugged and stood by the corner. I noticed we were at my house. He looked at me, then slowly pulled me to himself.

“I love you.” He said, then gave me quick hug. “See you.” He walked away

I was sad, Banele never walked away without me giving him a full on kiss. I was disappointed, what if he had already had enough?