Page 70 - The Mending Season

“I dont need anyone to come with me,” I insisted.“Tshidiso, were coming.” Mmamane Malesedi had the final say.They walked me to the taxi, all the way talking about neighbours, the street and their jobs. I wanted them to turn around and go away. I was nervous enough without worrying about when they would start giving me instructions on how to behave. People looked up and some children pointed as always. I walked hastily ahead of them. To my surprise, they let me stop a taxi ofmy choice and only said, “Goodbye, have a good time”, when I climbed in. I spent the hour waiting for the taxi to fill up with passengers, wondering if I looked too formal and not fun enough. I thought that the jeans might have been a better choice.The meeting place was at the top ofthe stairs at Sterland, the movie theatre in town. Many people our age roamed around us, most ofthem talking in what Mmamane Mabatho now called the Model C accent. KB smiled and waved when she first saw me. She was standing next to a White girl with a bob and a short Indian girl with long straight hair. All three ofthem were wearing jeans and stylish, short-sleeved T-shirts. KB was more cheerful than I had ever seen her. She had let down her ponytail and her hair fell to her shoulders. All three of them wore eye make-up and lipstick.“This is Brittany,”she said about the girl with the bob. “And this is Sumaya,” she pointed to the girl with the straight hair.“Hi,”we all said to each other. I looked around, waiting to see who else would join us.“Well, let s go.” KB led the way.“You’re at Ascension, right?” Sumaya asked, the fingers of one hand in her hair and the other hand in the back pocket of her jeans. When I looked at her again, I saw she was wearing too much lipstick.“Ja,”I said, my arms folded across my chest.70