The MWK8 000 meant for fuel ended up paid for a KFC box. Milå crunched the last bits of chicken nuggets in the canopy bed while the buyer, Kevîn, returned from his shower.

“Today has been so hot as soon as we left the hospital,” Kevîn said, combing his hair. His table-cut hairstyle ironically made his hair resemble a coffee table. His coffee skin tone glowed harmoniously like melted chocolate.

“Don’t point fingers at each other,” Milå said, referring to Kevîn and that day, sarcastically; “you’re both hot.”

Kevîn laughed out loud and loosened the towel around his waist, and rubbed the oil into his chiselled stomach right in front of Milå, who blushed and looked away.

“Tonight will be boring if you and I don’t text,” he said, wearing jeans as blue as the wall in his room. “So, babe, I want to buy you a cell phone tomorrow. I can’t stay a night without texting you.”

Milå smiled. “Am I that important to you?”

“Ye, I swear,” Kevîn confirmed, buttoning his achromatic shirt, and just then he proposed: “I want you and I get engaged on Christmas Day, so we can be a blessed couple.”

However, since Milå was still a minor, such an engagement would anger her parents. Kevîn was certainly over legal age, but Milå was not. She was two years younger than him, yet she had lied to him that she was eighteen.

“Jha, life is too short,” Milå easily agreed and rolled out of bed. She walked towards him and put her arms around his neck. “Would you like to go on a school trip with me this weekend?” she asked, begging his generous lips to say yes.

This lake trip was aimed at first year students like her. Kevîn was in third year. Both were studying economics at the oldest university in such former capital city. Nevertheless, Kevîn nodded yes. “Of course, this trip will not separate us. I’ll follow you everywhere until I die,” he vowed.

Milå laid her head on his chest. “You smell so good.”

“I know,” Kevîn boasted, grabbing her bums, and to his surprise Milå didn’t scream in pain. “Has the pain in your hips gone?” he whispered.

Milå nodded. “Jha, but don’t screw me yet,” she warned him; her parents trained her so well to fear the opposite gender when it comes to sex.

“Ye, sure. I was just asking.” Kevîn released her bums. He looked out the window, drank the remaining Coca-Cola in his glass, and clicked his tongue.

Milå came to him and said: “You seem very frustrated.”

“Ye, a romantic relationship without sex is like a luxury car without fuel,” he responded.

Milå discovered a numbness in her flat biceps as she crossed her arms. Her silence was filled with anxiety to the extent Kevîn noticed.

“Duh, just kidding,” he laughed; “I’ll never sleep with you unless you say you’re ready.”

“Okay, Kev.” Milå breathed out. “I was very nervous. You looked serious for a moment.”

“No, I looked serious because I was thinking of introducing you to my mom,” he clarified.

“Jha, you should. I don’t think it’s right to play hide and seek with her,” Milå admitted, “I’ve to bring myself into the light.”

“Ye, come.” Kevîn dragged her hand with her diclofenac down the stairs. They were on their way to the town centre to meet Kevîn’s mother, Arishi Mzitheyi.