Amahle's Diary 2

Part 8

AMAHLE

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, I stirred from my slumber, the digital glow of my phone casting an eerie light on the darkness of my room. With a groan, I reached for my device, my fingers fumbling to silence the persistent barrage of missed calls from both Sandiso and Sbu.

Groggy and disoriented, I squinted at the screen before deciding to dial Sbu's number, the familiar digits dancing before my bleary eyes. After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked up.

"Hey," I muttered, my voice thick with sleep.

"Yah," came his terse reply.

"Sbusiso!" I pressed, attempting to rouse him from his grogginess.

"What?" His voice crackled through the line, filled with irritation.

"You called," I stated, trying to cut through the fog of his half-conscious state.

"Seriously? You woke me up to tell me I called you, Amahle?" Sbu grumbled, his annoyance palpable.

"You left too many missed calls, hello!" I retorted, frustration creeping into my tone.

"Hold up, let me sit up," he grunted, the rustling of sheets audible.

"Fine," I acquiesced, waiting impatiently for him to compose himself.

"Okay, I'm good. We can talk. What's up?" Sbu's voice sounded clearer now, more alert.

"I should be asking you that. You're the one that called," I reminded him, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Oh right. Sandz is depressed. Says you're not taking his calls," Sbu explained, concern evident in his voice.

"What's that gotta do with you?" I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

"See, he's my brother, and I don't like seeing him like that," Sbu replied earnestly, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Where are you going with this?" I questioned, unsure of his intentions.

"He messed up, and he knows it. As of today, he will never see Sisanda again, and that's a promise," Sbu declared firmly, his words laced with determination.

"Except you're the one making all these promises, Sbu, and not him," I pointed out, skeptical of his ultimatum.

"So it would be better coming from him rather than me?" Sbu countered, his tone defensive.

"Yeah, obviously. Look, I'm not mad he's hanging out with Sisanda; I'm mad he didn't answer his phone," I admitted, my frustration ebbing away as I spoke.

"Does he at least know that?" Sbu inquired, his concern genuine.

"I didn't give him the chance to explain," I confessed, realizing my own fault in the situation.

"Maybe you should," Sbu suggested, his wisdom cutting through the tension.

"Fine. Thanks," I conceded, grateful for his insight.

"Pleasure," Sbu replied warmly before ending the call.

As I hung up, a sense of relief washed over me. Talking to Sbu had somehow alleviated my anger, his words serving as a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. Perhaps I had overreacted. With newfound resolve, I summoned the courage to dial Sandiso's number, hoping against hope that he would answer this time and that I could finally clear the air between us.

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SANDISO

The shrill ring of my phone pierced the quiet of the morning, jolting me from my thoughts. Without bothering to check the caller ID, I answered with a groggy, "Hello?"