Mpendulo’s parents were sitting on the veranda conversing. He greeted them and introduced Tsepo as his friend. They got inside the house and headed towards his room, and before they could enter Mpendulo asked Tsepo to wait a short while whilst he took care of something inside.

“Ke eng? Na u na le sefebe se u emetseng ka hare? What is it? Have you got a bitch waiting for you inside?” Tsepo joked.

“No. It’s nothing like that.”

Tsepo wondered what it was that Mpendulo didn’t want him to see. Or could it be that he was worried he might stumble upon an untidy room? For goodness’ sake he is a gent not a girl! Most gents don’t have an obsession with the cleanliness of their space so long as they are clean and looking good. In fact, Tsepo was sure Mpendulo would relax if he could show him his own room. 
Mpendulo reappeared and asked him in finally. The guest or friend was in awe. Mpendulo’s room was exquisite and extravagantly organised for a boy’s room. He could tell his host was a painter, an artist, for there were flamboyant paintings of bees, butterflies, buffalos, peacocks, and other animals. Above the window was a portrait of his host hung on a nail, and next to it were two more nails ready to have drawings hung on them as well. There also was a board standing on a tripod and markers that Tsepo guessed Mpendulo also uses to experiment with his drawings. Tsepo sat on a chair and placed his arms on the table whilst politely examining the room. Mpendulo was wearing his jersey whilst seated on the edge of his bed.

“U-Asakhe u-cherry wakho mfethu? Is Asakhe your girlfriend bro?” Mpendulo asked the question again.

“Ke nahana joalo I think so,” Tsepo still gave the same response.

“You think so?”

“Yeah…I am not sure anymore. This chick seems to have trouble lurking behind her.”

Mpendulo exited the room leaving his guest by himself. Tsepo resumed his examining of the room. Underneath the bed his eyes caught two drawings and he rose up to retrieve them. And to his shock, in one drawing was a very precise portrait of his ‘troubled girlfriend’ Asakhe, and on the other was a portrait of Mpendulo together with Asakhe’s, but in between the portrait was a bleeding heart pierced by an arrow. So, Mpendulo had asked him to wait whilst he hid, underneath his bed, the two drawings that were hung on the now two empty nails above the window. Mpendulo returned with a cooldrink and two glasses. He was shocked to see Tsepo holding the drawings.

“Oops, I see you’ve seen those,” he said.

He filled the glasses to the brim and they started sipping.

“They are exceptional drawings. You really didn’t have to hide them for me.”

There was silence for a moment.

“By the way, who broke whose heart?” asked Tsepo.

“Huh…”

Mpendulo pretended to not have heard the question.

“The drawing makes it clear that between you and Asakhe someone broke the other’s heart. Therefore, whose is it that was broken?”

“Nah bro…it’s a long story. Besides, she is your girlfriend now.”

They diverted the attention to their drinking again.

“What was happening there?”

“Where?”

“By Asakhe’s home. Why was that gent angry and why did he want to beat her up?”

“Oh…you mean Hloni. He wanted to beat your girlfriend up because she lied about him being the father of her child. It’s painful. The poor guy had the baby live with his family for almost a year.”

“You said ‘her child’. Whose child?”

“Asakhe’s child. She has a baby boy.”

Tsepo was engulfed with confusion. Mpendulo’s utterances startled him. And it clearly couldn’t be the same Asakhe they were talking about.

“U bua ka Asakhe ofe monna? Which Asakhe are you talking about man?”

“Ngikhuluma ngentombi yakho. I am talking about your girlfriend. The yellow-bone Xhosa girl.”

“You said she has a child?”

“Yes, she has a baby boy. He will must be two years old now. What is it? Didn’t you know she has a child? Didn’t she tell you?

“Hell no! And she didn’t speak like a girl that can have a child at her age.”

Tsepo was certain their relationship was doomed. It was totally over. He wouldn’t cooperate even if she still had the urge to keep it going. And, if anything, he hadn’t believed her when she claimed to be a virgin. However, that was an unnecessary lie he could excuse but a child…a whole child. Thee critical, outspoken, and prudent Asakhe has, according to her words, a ‘bastard child’! He was now enlightened of the extent to which girls can lie. Asakhe spoke so critically that it didn’t cross his mind she might be a preacher of a gospel she doesn’t practise. But he was grateful her true colours were revealed whilst their relationship was in its initial stages. The worse that could’ve transpired is him finding out the truth when it will be aching to either stop or continue with the relationship.

“What will happen to your relationship with her now?” said Mpendulo.

“It’s no more. It’s over.”

“Do you love Asakhe though?”

“I don’t want to lie I was pretty captivated by her looks and exterior personality. But now that I know her behind the façade, I think I can learn to forget about her. And that’s if it is possible or easy to completely forget about the person you know yourself to love.”

Mpendulo gazed at Tsepo, wondering what may be his stance with the confession he was about to make.

“Well bro…I am sure the love you have for Asakhe will never surpass the one I have for her in a million years.”

Finally, Mpendulo just affirmed what Tsepo had long been presuming. He knew from the word go that between Mpendulo and Asakhe there existed an intense affection judging by the manner at which they looked at each other.

“Then go for her bro. She is all yours. Don’t you worry about me,” said Tsepo.

“That’s where the problem is, bro. I love her but can’t be with her. And it’s got nothing to do with you being his boyfriend, or having been his boyfriend rather. It’s way deeper than that.”

“Then just break it down. Talking about a painful issue helps lift most of its burden and eases the pain.”

Mpendulo narrated everything about his relationship with Asakhe. It all started in Primary School. They always were together both at school and in the Lawley township. People jokingly referred to them as a married couple. Whenever they saw one walking alone, they enquired about the whereabouts of the other. Both their parents were initially alarmed by their closeness, but they ended up approving of their relationship. Mpendulo’s mother adored Asakhe to a point where she good-naturedly called the girl her daughter-in-law. Whilst she wasn’t the first girl he slept with, Mpendulo was the first gent with whom she made love. He was her virgin breaker. They even went to the same high school still being inseparable lovers. The glitches commenced when Mpendulo, on the suggestion of his family, went to the KZN province to do his Grade 10 there leaving Asakhe behind. They both were deeply wounded and she particularly perceived his departure as the ultimate stab in the back. But she knew it’s not a choice he made. His family made it on his behalf. They elevated their spirits by promising to text, call and video-call each other almost everyday. However, the effort tormented them and their plan eventually petered out. They painfully felt the distance. They longed to be next to each other, physically. Within a period of two months their communication completely died out. Three Christmases passed without Mpendulo returning to Lawley only to emerge on the fourth one to a pregnant Asakhe.

“Come on, bro…You were away for almost four years. You can’t hate her for having moved on. She has feelings too.”

“I know. And Asakhe said she doesn’t know what I was doing where I lived and studied.”

“Exactly. You probably had a girlfriend in KZN.”

“Yes, but I didn’t impregnate. I was having safe sex.”

“But you two look good together though. And I hate to admit that she loves you and you love her,” said Tsepo, although it was a hard thing to say. He has just sold away the pretty girl who had captivated his heart.

“Of course, I love her, so much for that matter. And I could’ve fooled myself into believing she had been a faithful, modest girl whilst I was away, but there is a baby as evidence of her having slept around.”

“Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive her?”

Mpendulo stared at him with shock and perplexity.

“Ehh…this guy. You want me to forgive someone you ditched the moment you found out who she really is?”

“I didn’t ditch her because she has a baby. I ditched her because she lied to me. She is a hypocrite.”

“Ehh… so you don’t mind being a stepfather at your age? And you want me to have a relationship with a hypocrite?”

“C’mon bro look on the bright side. Asakhe has a child and that can only mean she has fertility. She is not barren. She will give you a huge supply of babies.”

Tsepo smiled at yet another one of his failed attempts at humour. Mpendulo kept a straight face.

“This is not something to joke about mfethu bro. Well, it’s good to know she can bear children. The sad thing is that the gent who impregnated her is not going to marry her. She has shown her fertility to the wrong man. Bro, I loved this chick since we were young. Many people said we were too young to know about love blah…blah…blah…but I knew what I wanted. However, I am neither foolish nor ignorant. I can’t assume a future with a girl whom other gents have used continuously to test their potency, and now the other his fertility. Of course, things work out fine for other gents, but I don’t think I am one of those. Ngicabange ukuthi ngizokwakha ikusasa noma wengane yomunye umjita? To think I can build a future with the mother of another guy’s kid? Nah bro…not me.”

Mpendulo’s heart ached whenever he vented of the betrayal by Asakhe, the girl he had loved the most amongst all he’s had to date. No relationship will demolish his soul more than the one he had with Asakhe. Tsepo saw his perturbation and wished they’d stop talking about girls and their lies, to stop conversing about their mutual Delilah and move on to more lighter conversations.

“Those gents who stand by the corners, supermarkets, and spaza shops smoking weed and playing die. They are toxic, aren’t they?” said Tsepo, deliberately changing the subject.

“Yep…gents for you. You’d lose it if you’re short tempered. Bazok’gwara kabuhlungu! They’ll mercilessly tease you! But you handled them well that day you were walking with Asakhe.”

“I’ve chilled a lot with their kind. I know them very well to fall into their trap and provocation.”

“You know…they are extremely toxic. You won’t believe this. Last year they teased a guy to death.”

“To death? C’mon mate. You’re exaggerating.”

“It’s true bro. I am telling you. They teased the poor guy until he committed suicide.”

“What were they teasing him about?”

“Homie impregnated an ugly girl. Ngisho nabocherry bayi ekasi bebamhleka. Even girls of this hood were laughing at him.”

“Ah nonsense…the fact that he was in a relationship with her means he didn’t see her as ugly. Why should other people’s opinions frustrate him to an extent where he commits suicide then?”

“Well, that’s where the problem is. They were not in a relationship. The girl always pestered the gent, nagged him, drooled for him, and fantasized about him. Then homie got tired and tempted. He smashed her up raw and the unfortunate thing happened. It’s not because they were in a relationship.”

“But he shouldn’t have taken his own life. People would’ve forgotten or got bored, and moved to another scandal. Eish…but the nigga flopped though. So, it was not even a relationship that led to the baby?”

“Yeah…it was a hit-and-run gone wrong. It was love-making for her, but merely sex, a fuck, for him. Girls seem to not get that most of the time.”

“Mhh…so after all it might be true that most gents don’t have boundaries when it comes to which girls to smash but which ones to date?”

“Exactly. Show me the ugliest girl in the world and I will show you a gent that won’t mind fucking her.”

Tsepo was certain of his newly-found friendship with Mpendulo. And he liked the fact that they could converse almost about everything because using phrases such as “I loved her”, “she broke my heart”, and many more of them, are barely encouraged amongst the gents, especially those who like to stand by the spaza shops. “Have many bitches so that you don’t whine to us about being heartbroken by a bitch,” are some of the popular philosophies amongst the gents. So, amongst the gents, even if a girl dribbled and hurt you you’ve got to keep that to yourself. But Tsepo saw that it was not the case with Mpendulo. And he couldn’t believe he almost despised a good gent over an ill-mannered, manipulative, hypocritical bitch with a façade of being an honest and discreet girl. They then left Mpendulo’s home to further explore the township and possibly look for chicks whilst at it.