The Two Of Us

Chapter 21

THE TWO OF US

CHAPTER 21

SIHLE

The only thing that's going well in her life is her flow of blood. Well, maybe and her friendship with. She wish she can say her love life is also going well but how when it's the cause for all her problems. Her father just won't trust her. They faked a break up, she had to fake a heartbreak at home. She had to think about her dead mother for it to look real. She showed her father a proof of break up, called the guy but it didn't go through because, well, she was blocked. She's still blocked, no communication over the phone. The last thing she needs is that man who has turned into a creepy stalker she cannot even recognize, behind Liam's back.

"Siphesihle!" someone shouts her name. She blinks once, twice. God! It's an English period!

"Yes Ma'am," she says clearing her throat, rubbing her nape. The teacher is looking at her like she's the most disrespectful child she's ever layed her eyes on.

"She wants to see you in her office when the bell rings," her desk mate, Natasha helps out.
Just as she's still confused, the bell goes off. Simakade! Where are you in this time of need? Mrs Zulu is no child play, she hates learners who doesn't pay attention. She's about to be crucified, no doubt.
.
.
"You're not doing well sis," Mrs Zulu says scrutinizing at Sihle under her oval-shaped spectacles.

She keeps quiet and play with her fingers under the table.

"Your grades are declining. Your term one results are very disappointing. You were... in fact, you are an A student Siphesihle, you're supposed to be in our top ten students but you're not. As your class manager I'm not pleased, I'm even ashamed to say your position in the class list." She pushes the paper across the table.

She browse hesitantly through the names of her classmates, afraid of what she's going to see. There her name is, next to position fourteen. She pushes it back and bite on her nails.

"You can do better than this my girl. This..." she says with the paper in her hand. "What I'm seeing here is not what the real Siphesihle Ngcobo would get and it's not good for your university entrance scores."

"I will do better Ma'am," she says. Does she believes what she's saying? Barely.

"What is it? Talk to me. Is the something going on at home?" This is the moment she's been dreading. She shakes her head no.

"Or is that boy you're dating? Is he forcing you to do things you don't want to do?"
Mrs Zulu is definitely a caring mother beyond her scary spectacle and loud shoutings.

"Liam will never do something like that," she says.

"Then what is it my girl? Should I call your father?"
What? No! Her eyes have widen to the size of a golf ball but she soon recovers.

"There's nothing to worry about so there's no need to call my father. I guess, I'm just struggling to adjust to the pressure," she lies. She must've went to UCT for this, there's no way she can lie staring straight at the person's eyes.

The woman is sensing something wrong though. "Okay, try new strategies then I'm positive that it will help."
She nods and just like that she's excused.

"Siphesihle?" Mrs Zulu says as she touches the door knob. "You can call me or come to me when you need something."

She simply nods, her eyes burning with tears because even if she wanted to talk, where the hell was she going to begin?

She head straight to the washroom, lock herself in, sit on top of the closed toilet sit and cry silently. Because how the hell did she get here?

                                 ***

NOKUKHANYA MTHEMBU

For seventeen years, she's always wondered what Siphosethu is doing wherever he is, what he likes, if he's kind and caring, if he's into business or still football like his three-year-old self who'd cry for every ball he saw at the mall. Who'd trip over the ball trying to kick it around because he was short and small and the ball was too big for him. She has been wondering if he still like being in front of the camera like he would never stop smiling whenever someone was taking photos of him. Even the local photographers liked him, they liked how free he was in front of the camera unlike other kids. They'd even use his photos to advertise their work.  She has always wanted to see him at least once in this lifetime. Or bump into him even at the mall or something, just to see the guy he's grown to be.
But right now, now that she's parked outside this restaurant. She's nervous like she's never be in her life. She's feeling all sort of emotions. She clings onto her purse and fix her bodycon dress that doesn't need to be fixed walking past tables filled with people who are happily chatting and eating.

She reserved a table for two next to the window. You know, a little privacy unlike outside or in the middle of the restaurant. She takes a seat and ask for a glass of water, maybe it will help her cool down.
He's an early bird, five minutes early. He strides confidently across the restaurant like a runway model. Like the people sitting around do not exist, like he was born to walk between millions of people. He turned out good without her in the picture.

She's such a bad mother! What kind of mother that never fight for their children. She sniffles with her hand covering her mouth. And unlike the first time at the hospital. She stands up and wrap her arms around him because it's been a hell of long time. She doesn't care if he'll find it strange or too forward. She has to make this moment count. It has to be a moment she remembers, a moment that will be a blow of peace through her conflicted thought. They remain in each other's embrace for a while.

"I'm sorry," she whispers before pulling away. They both take their seat, their eyes a little wet. "I'm so sorry, I thought I will never see you. Oh my God! You've grown!"

She may have disappointed her parents but she deserved to see him transforming from a three-year-old to the twenty-year-old he is today.

"I'm sorry my baby, I... " she's a crying mess. This has been digging her conscience for too long. She was starting to accept that she will take that regret to the grave.

"Stop beating yourself up, it's not like you could've done something," he says.

"I'm sure there was, a responsible mother would have done something, " she says. This is not the energy she wanted to bring.

"You were fourteen Ma. Besides we've found each other again and we're here." Beating yourself up for something you have no control over is  always not an option. He can never think that he would have done something about his father bribing and threatening the team management so that they'll kick his ass out because he doesn't have the amount of money his father has. No money, no power.

"How are you doing? Have you been okay?" She has her hand on top of his.

"I'm perfectly fine now that I'm here," he says with a sigh.

She breaths in relief, take her glass and sip on her drink hiding the smile stretching on her lips.

"You sound like someone who's been through hell," she chuckles.

"Because I have," he says it jokingly but it's true. His smile turns into a thin sad line. "I'm happy to know that at least I still have a parent that cares enough to ask how I am doing."

"Don't say that. You have your father and he..."

"Which father? UBaba?"

She doesn't mean to laugh but it's his reaction.

"Tell me about it."

"Your high school boyfriend is so stubborn and...."

God! If she could, she would record this moment because it's one of the best things that has ever happened to her over the years. Her heart is at peace.