Swirl

3. Sorry Won't Mean Shit.

A/N: I hope you realize by now that this story is a sensitive one.

TBH, the amount of research I have to do to write each chapter is overwhelming, but I'm trying as much as I can, so your votes and comments would be encouraging, especially if you want the chapters out quicker.

Otherwiseeeeee, Achim and Lerato's story has barely begun.

Sit tight, and wear your seatbelts kids, coz it's going to be a bumpy ride.

Definitions:

Kaffir: derogatory slang used to refer to black people in South Africa during the apartheid age.
Meisie: girl.
Kak: shit, poo, crap, whatever tickles your fancy.

Happy reading!

Dom's laughter was loud and obnoxious. He doubled over and held his knees to support himself as he laughed uncontrollably.

Achim could not believe his stroke of bad luck. Just when he thought he was getting to know what really went on behind the scenes of white South Africa from a first-hand source, Dom had to come out and ruin it. After he had just stuck his neck out to protect the honor of his friends, lo and behold, one of them had to come and fuck it up.

He closed his eyes as he waited for Dom's laughter to subside, scared to even look in Lerato's direction because he knew she wouldn't find it funny. She wasn't a prostitute, and he knew it. Everything he'd just said about his friend's being different had gone to shit.

Dom was seemingly calming down from his high.

'Seemingly' being the operative word because it happened to be a ruse. He stood up straight and called over to the house, "James, Alex! Come see this shit. Goody, goody two shoes has a wild streak!" and then he doubled over and continued hollering.

Two heads popped out of the open door to James' family's colonial town house a few seconds later. They looked curiously at the commotion that Dom was creating, to which he waved them over excitedly.

Achim began panicking. He hadn't expected Dom to say what he did, and he wasn't in the mood for any more surprises. "Shut the hell up Dom! She's not a prostitute," he growled and hurriedly turned to look at Lerato.

Lerato's face was devoid of all emotion as she packed her purse, making sure that everything was inside her bag. Her facial expression was rehearsed. She had been in the presence of enough racist white people to know exactly what to do to avoid getting assaulted on the spot.

"Lerry, -" his sentence was cut short when she swiveled her head towards him, silent fury bleeding out of her eyes with a look that conveyed an 'I told you so.'

She said nothing as she opened the door, and hastily climbed out of the vehicle. Achim climbed out of the car and shoved Dom straight in the chest aggressively as he rounded the car to catch Lerato. She wasn't running, not only because of her heels, but also because she didn't want to attract the attention of the neighbors, lest they should think she's starting some type of rebellion. That doesn't mean she was turtle walking either.

"What the hell was that for, man?" Dom inquired wounded. His laughter died down when he noted the angry expression on Achim's face, but Achim didn't respond. He continued chasing Lerato.

She walked with haste to get away from the scene. As she walked further and further away from the car, Alex and James got closer to the party. True to testament, James was no longer skinny. He was built and tall with short brown hair and some stubble on his chin.

"Why the fuck is Chim chasing after a kaffir?" asked James.

"I think she's a prostitute he picked up on the way here. Looked royally fucked by the time I got to the car," said Dom as he scratched his head.