Mango

Chapter Six.

Third-person perspective

So there stood Mango in Khaya's room unsure of what to do next after Khaya's cheesy remark. She felt it in her tummy that she liked being complimented, especially by Khaya but she didn't know how to react. So she left the room, that being the only action she found suitable for the awkward situation. Mango's reaction amused Khaya in some sort of way. He knew she had to have liked him, even if it was not much because she wouldn't have walked out with bloody cheeks had it not been true.

Mango made her way to the kitchen. A glass of cold water would surely refresh her mind, right? Her mind began racing with a million questions only Khaya could answer, but she didn't seem to want answers just yet. She'd want the answers when she'd become too frustrated to think, but for now, she'd be able to survive without knowing. While in her thoughts of the unexplainable, the cold water soothed her dry throat and she felt a little fresh, mentally too.

"So walking away from me makes you feel better, s'thandwa?" Khaya voiced from behind Mango, unaware of her awareness. She could smell he was closer than she thought, but she wouldn't want to confirm it just yet. Khaya on the other hand believes that the closer he gets to her, the more he'll discover her feelings for him - if they were strong enough to allow her to open up to him, to trust him. "Are you going to answer me or leave me standing here like some lovestruck fool?" Again, that would trigger something in her, Khaya thought.

Mango turned around with so much force that she felt a bone crack somewhere in her spinal cord. How could he say such things to her when she could tell that he knew how she must have felt. "You must enjoy playing around with me, Khaya. I don't like it one bit."  She deeply scowled at herself rather than at him, because she'd discovered that they were more than just strangers. They were more than just housemates. She knew something would develop between them and if that were to happen, she'd have to run away. Running away seemed best especially when trying to protect the people you care about. Wait, did she care about Khaya already after only a day of knowing him? Impossible, she thought.

"Mango, my darling, I wouldn't play with your feelings even if it meant I had to give up the most expensive and expansive house in Sandton." She could see he was flat out lying to her face. She knew this simply after seeing his lips twitch a little, wanting to break out into a smile, or better yet a grin. Mango shook her head as she put the glass of water down, lost of appetite. And anyway, how bad can someone be in order to make you lose the craving for water, she thought with a roll of the eyes. She made her way to her bedroom and as she was about to touch the doorknob Khaya carried her swiftly by the waist, placing her on the sofa. "Oh Jehovah, yini ngawe Khaya?" (What's your problem?)

Khaya just simply chuckled at Mango's irritated face. She looked cute, he thought. The kind of cute that could be turned into sexy at any time. Her hair covered her head like a cloud of brown-blond candy floss. As much as it looked too glorious to be touched, he could imagine pulling at it and hearing her call out his name. Khaya's face flushed when he realized the scrutinizing look Mango had given him as if she could read him like an open book. "You know what, let's watch a movie. Then tomorrow we'll go out and buy you a phone in case I need you." He said, thinking about his need to have Mango by his side.

When did she become a need, especially to him?

"Mxm." Was all Mango said, an onomatopoeia, a sound of distaste. She'd have to feign this distaste until she could be able to get away from Khaya. "Look, I really want to sleep and you are delaying me. What's worse is that it's almost ten o'clock." Mango knew she had stayed up longer than the hours in one day, but she couldn't wait to land on a soft mattress and envelop herself in those warm blankets. She smiled at her thoughts, but her smile soon disappeared when something neither Khaya nor Mango unexpectedly appeared.

The main door swung open and a coloured girl walked in like she owned the place. "My skat, ek is nou t'rug." (My darling, I'm back.) Narelle barely shouted as she spotted Mango sitting too close to Khaya for her own liking. Mango could sense the tension between the two and she could tell that things weren't going to stay at equilibrium for too long. "Wie's die? Wat soek dié ding in my plek?" (Who's this? What's this thing doing in my place?) Narelle stalked towards the two like they were her prey.

Khaya completely forgot he had to pick up Narelle from the airport. She had gone to Cape Town to sort out some family problems. And now she'd returned and Khaya was a hundred-and-one percent sure Narelle probably thought she'd figured it all out. Narelle probably thought that he'd been cheating on her. "Narelle," he paused, unsure of what to say next. "This is a dear friend of mine, Mango. She's going to crash here for a while." He started off slowly as Mango slightly smiled, standing up to greet Narelle.

Narelle sized Mango up before saying, "Ja, I see you ready to replace me with another one of my kind. Coloureds." She smirked as she gave Mango a side-eyed look before glaring at Khaya. Mango thought this would be the perfect time to escape some problems and head to her room. She didn't get too far before Narelle pulled Mango by the thicket that was placed on her head. Mango felt as if her head was about to be ripped off as Narelle pulled onto her hair. "Where you think you're running to? Think these are the Olympics where you just gonna run from me like some Usain Bolt? Jammer, my skat. (Sorry, my darling.) Life doesn't gift us with medals." Narelle laughed at the pain evident on Mango's face.

Khaya held onto Narelle, trying to separate the two. He knew very well that Narelle was trouble and Mango would be a lucky cat if she would walk out of here without a bruise. "Narelle, leave her alone so we can just sort out this misunderstanding." Narelle seemed to contemplate before letting go of Mango's hair with a mischievous smile on her face. Khaya breathed out a sigh of relief before turning to lead the way to his room. As he stepped a foot into his room, he heard a smash like glass breaking and à scream at the same time. He turned around to witness something that scared him more than he'd like to admit. Mango would be the death of him, he knew.

Mango laid there on the floor with blood oozing from her now crimson afro, and Narelle standing over her like some warrior from the movie 300. "What the actual fuck, Narelle?" Khaya's voice boomed as he rushed to Mango's side. He checked her pulse and it was beating slower by the second. She needs to get to the hospital soon before Khaya loses someone he is yet to know.