Hours pass and we’re slaughtered by the end of it. Some of the sound engineers decide to go for beers and we head along, too fried to want to do anything else.
I can’t wait to tell Kayla about it.
Kayla
RONDEBOSCH, SATURDAY
I can’t concentrate. Fin sent me a message but now he’s not answering his phone.
Can’t hang out today. Busy with Monkey at the studio. Chat later.
I’ve read it about twenty times. I’ve sent him fourteen messages and tried to call him, but every time it goes straight to voicemail. I’m supposed to be studying. I’ve been staring at the same page in my Geography textbook for hours. Every time I try to focus on the text, something happens to my brain. The circuits cross, the words blur and the next thing I know I’m on the phone again, listening to the dull dial tone for the hundredth time.
It feels like he’s blocked me out. That he’s abandoned me. We’re still on probation, and so far we’ve done nothing but fight. Something has broken between us and I don’t know how to fix it. Now he’s actively avoiding me. He never did that when we were together.
Not again.
I decide to check if it’s just my WhatsApp acting up. I reach for my phone and scroll through my slim contacts list, but no one is talking to me anymore. I stop at Louis’s name. It won’t do any harm to check if it’s working. Besides, out of everyone, Louis was the only one who really cared about me.
Still, tiny alarm sirens go off in my head as I type.
Louis, are you there? It’s Kayla. I need to talk to you.
As soon as the double grey ticks appear to say it’s been sent, I delete the message. I turn my attention back to my textbook and get as far as the middle of the page before my mind starts to wander again. Ignoring me is Fin’s way of showing me that he can walk away whenever he wants. I fall onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I hate how powerless this has made me.
When my phone beeps, I snatch it up. It’s Louis.
What’s up? You ok?
I stare at my phone for a long time, and then reply.
Can we meet? It’s important.
Uh, ok. Now?
Yeah.
It only takes him a second to say yes.
LOUIS’S DREADS ARE tucked inside a blue bandana. Memories of long nights skating with Dexter and the rest of the dreadlock gang come flashing back. I suddenly miss them. I rush forward for a hug and we stay locked together for a long time.
“What’s wrong, Kay? You’re still so blue, even though you’ve changed your hair.” Louis brushes my forehead lightly with his lips. I pull away but our fingers remain touching for a few seconds.
“It’s good to see you, Louis. I know I left a mess behind. I didn’t get a chance to say sorry, or even goodbye.”
“It’s all good. You’re saying it now.”
We roll our boards slowly down an oak-lined street a few blocks from my house. It feels good to be skating with someone again instead of waiting like a lovesick loser for Fin to message me back. We practise our ollies, and he circles me playfully, lightly flicking my hair as he passes.
I know the only reason he’s being so bold is because I messaged him. The only reason I’m allowing it is because he came. My resolve tightens every time I check my phone and see the single grey ticks next to all my messages to Fin.
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Your face is telling a sad story. What’s on your mind?”
I look down. “Issues with Fin. Who else?”
“The guy who dumped you?”
“Yeah. He … I think I’m relationship kryptonite or something. Everything I touch disintegrates.”
Louis grinds to a halt in front of me. “You’re worth more than that, baby girl. Now show me that smile I’ve been missing.”
The wide-arched windows of the old Rondebosch houses watch us. No one here knows Fin, so our secret is safe. Not that it’s even a secret. I close my eyes for a second and tell myself that this is the road I should have taken all along. I pretend that Fin never came back, that the stupid kiss with Dexter didn’t ruin everything with my skater friends, and that it didn’t matter to Louis, who is above all that stuff.
I stumble and he catches me before I bail into the gravel. “Sorry, I hurt my foot the other night. It’s thrown me off balance.”
He laughs. “I see you’re still so accident prone. I’m surprised you haven’t fallen off a building yet.”
If only you knew.
He’s flirting with me. And I’m not even playing hard to get this time. I called him. A big no-no. It’s a little thrilling to realise that he still likes me, after everything I did. It makes me feel less like a failure.
He bends down and kisses me. I go with it. Anything to make him stay a little bit longer. One tiny kiss won’t hurt. He tastes like porridge and warm milk.
And acceptance.
Hey, babe. Sorry my phone was off. I was in the studio all day. Album is sounding great!
No problem.
I read your msgs. Soz again. You hate me?
Nope.
Aw, babe. I’ll make it up to you. Promise. After the gig next week you’ll have me all to yourself again.
It’s ok, Fin. I understand.
You’re the best, babe. I love you.
X
Finlay
LANSDOWNE, SATURDAY, ONE WEEK LATER
I’m on the phone with Monkey about the gig. The show is nearly sold out – whoever gets to the door first tonight gets in, and that’s it. He’s there right now testing out the equipment and making sure the sound is good for later.
A mixture of nerves and excitement have me bouncing on my feet. We’ve got stickers and some samples of the new album to hand to the crowd at the end of the show. Monkey really is amazing when he wants to be. The artwork is off the charts – a graffiti-style hammer with crows flying in all directions in the background.
Thor is back.
I’ve splurged on some new kicks for the show. Nikes. They were pricey, but Piotr reckons we’re going to make a killing at the door.
As soon as I’m off the phone I start pacing my room, going over lyrics to make sure there aren’t any tricky verses I might trip over.
I’m meeting Kayla in an hour to help her study for an exam in exchange for her being allowed out tonight.
I’m starting to respect Lorenda. You have to be firm sometimes, or Kayla will push to get her own way. I hate that I know this, but it’s the reality of our relationship – show her a gap, and she’ll drive a crowbar through it and wrench the door right off its hinges.
I ran into Jules at Cavendish Square. She’s coming to the show. If Kayla knew …
It was strange to see her again. She hasn’t changed – she’s still the same old Jules. She told me I was the one that got away. I push the thought to the back of my mind, realising I can’t stay in my room a second longer. There’s too much going on in my head. I take my pacing to the passage and discover the old man in the bathroom, examining the grey gristle on his chin.
“Yes, you’re old. You can’t tell me you only noticed this now.”
He growls from the back of his throat but there’s no threat in it. It’s been strangely calm on the home front lately. I reach past him for my toothbrush and he slaps me on the back in what I can only guess is a fatherly way.
“You have a show tonight or something?” he asks. “You’re jumpier than usual.”
I eye him nervously.“Yeah, a big one. It’s going to be awesome.”
He nods and turns back to the cracked mirror. “I’m off tonight. Who knows, maybe I’ll make a turn.”
His words root me to the spot. I must have heard wrong. “To the show? My show?”
“Ja. See what all this nonsense I’ve been hearing through the door is about.”
I look everywhere but at my father. The black mould is spreading on the ceiling, gathering in the corners.
“I’ll make sure you’re on the list,” I say in a weirdly high voice. Thi
s is the first time my father has ever shown interest in anything I do. I don’t know how to process it.
“How’s that girl of yours, the one with the funky hair?”
“Kayla? She’s great. I’m heading over to her place now.”
He looks at me through the mirror. “You love her?”
“Yeah. She means everything to me.”
“Be careful. Women know when you love them too much.”
IT’S WARM OUTSIDE, but dark clouds circle over the mountain. The weather makes me nervous. Capetonians don’t like partying in the rain.
Jerome opens the door when I knock, a yellow Homer Simpson T-shirt stretched tight over his stomach.
“Oh, it’s you. I thought it was the one who’s been riding his skateboard all over my grass.”
Huh?
His words make me momentarily forget why I’m here. I scratch my head absentmindedly. “Um, wow. Is Kayla around?” My voice seems to come from someone else.
The door widens and I walk in like a zombie.
“Hello, Fin,” trills Lorenda from the kitchen.
My head jerks in that direction. “Hi.” This is unreal.
I walk down the passage, surprised that my legs haven’t buckled beneath me. I reach out to the wall to steady myself, suddenly sick to my stomach. When I open Kayla’ door, it’s like I’m far away.
“Hey, Fin. What took you so long?” She looks up from her bed, her pink hair tied in a high knot on top of her head and her glasses slipping down her nose. She’s wearing one of my old high school jerseys with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It’s big enough to be a dress on her.
My eyes fix on her face. She’s so happy to see me. It looks so genuine.
Slowly, her smile falters. “What’s wrong?”
My chest burns. I want to believe it’s not true, that Jerome was just messing with me.
“Uh, are you skating with your old friends again?”
There it is. The slight opening of the mouth. The way her eyes dart to the left towards her bedside table. Suddenly we’re back at the campsite and the world is imploding around me.
I re-enter the world in a rush. My feet stamp forward and I yank open the drawer of her bedside table. My fingers rifle through her comics till I find what I’m looking for. She scrambles across the bed, but I hold her diary out of reach.
“Fin, stop. No! That’s private.”
I flip to the last entries and scan the pages. I start reading aloud: “Louis came around today. He’s so nice to me and seems genuinely interested in what I say. I’m more than just a clingy girlfriend in the way of his career.”
“Stop it!”
“Oh look, here’s another one,” I say, slapping down the page and ignoring her shrill screams. “It was a close call today. Louis was barely gone for ten minutes when Fin arrived. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I should tell him to go. I’m so confused.” I throw down the book and glare at my “clingy” girlfriend. “I can’t even … I am so furious with you right now. We are so done.”
Kayla blinks at me, like she can’t understand what’s happening. “It’s not what you think,” she says. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear to God.”
“Jesus, Kayla. I am so tired of that excuse. Have you or have you not been seeing someone behind my back?”
She purses her lips crossly. “We’re not seeing each other. He’s just a friend. You’ve been so busy lately –”
“I have a couple of busy days, and you act like I’ve abandoned you. You don’t trust how I feel about you, even though I tell you every fucking day how much I love you. How many times must I say it before you believe it, Kayla?”
“You’re right, Fin. I’m sorry. I was being childish.”
I can feel my blood pumping in my head. “You didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m sorry. I’m gone.”
I’m in the passage when I feel her slender fingers curling around my arm. “Fin, wait. You know me. You know I flip out when you’re not around. I can’t help it.”
My head is reeling. I throw her off and she falls down roughly, landing with a soft thud. I look down at her on the ground. Seeing her eyes sparkling with tears nearly ends me. I remember my father in the same position. Every mistake I’ve made comes back to me in a flood.
“I can’t do this. Not today. I have a show.”
Her expression hardens into something I haven’t seen before. I make myself keep walking.
MONKEY AND I hustle down the slick pavements of Harrington Street, our kicks splashing in the reflected silver light of the puddles. Despite the rain, the air smells like smoke and frying oil from the informal stalls lining the streets. My heart is still hammering, the memory of the afternoon broken into pieces that play in my head in an endless loop.
Kayla’s diary in my hand. Kayla lying on the ground. So fucked up.
We stop so I can take a picture of our poster on a streetlight. My hands are shaking so the picture comes out blurry. As the rain starts up again we turn a corner and see the long queue snaking the length of the club.
Monkey whistles beside me and adjusts his cap self-consciously. “They’re all here to see us, dude.”
Party people wave and cheer us as we approach. My old crew are there. Jesus, even Marshall’s in the line.
“This is going to be so, so epic,” he says. “You ready?”
“I think so.”
Pride swells in my chest. After Dark Father split, I never thought I’d get here again – an album about to drop, people waiting in line to see me. Everyone except my girlfriend.
That thought starts the loop all over again.
I close my fist around the pain.
We near the barricade when some dude steps out of the shadows and pushes me. I stagger back.
“What the hell, man?” Monkey’s at my side in seconds, puffing himself up.
I shake my head to clear the fug – there’s always some drunk idiot wanting to fight.
The guy struts up to me and points a dope-orange finger right up in my face. “You hit her.”
I step back. “Who are you, man? I don’t even know you. What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Kayla.”
Monkey lifts up his hands and backs off. “I didn’t need to hear that,” he says.
I stare at the dreadlocked guy. I vaguely remember him from the skater crew she used to roll with. Did Kayla tell him I hit her? Jerome’s words come back to smack me in the face – the one who’s been riding his skateboard all over my grass.
“You fucki–”
I don’t see his fist coming towards me and it gets me in the mouth, knocking me right around. I stumble into the road, holding my hand over my face. I can feel the warmth streaming out my nose. Tiny dots pop in front of my eyes like a hundred exploding stars.
Someone’s shouting, “Fin, look out!”
I look up to see bright lights heading straight towards me.
Kayla’s face.
Her smile is the last thing I –
Kayla
RONDEBOSCH, SATURDAY
I can’t sleep. I lie under the bedcovers in the dark, replaying our fight in my head over and over again. I turn left. Lie on my stomach. Then turn onto my back. It doesn’t help.
The shame of what I did to Fin burns in my cheeks, frightening off any hope of sleep. He didn’t deserve it. I can’t seem to stop this cycle of screwing things up to prevent myself from getting hurt. And I’m the one who ends up causing all the pain. I hurt him badly. There’s no victory in that.
I’ve done enough damage for both our lifetimes.
I can’t leave things like I did, not when I acted like such a child. I check the time on my phone and see that it’s nearly midnight. Fin should be going on soon – it’s his big night.
I should be there. I know him. It would mean so much to him to see me supporting him. It will make his heart melt.
Being as quiet as I can, I tiptoe to my bedroom door and open it. T
he hinges squeak, and I flinch, willing it to go unnoticed. Thankfully, Jerome is snoring soundly. I pad into the pitch-black passage and listen. Lorenda’s breathing is heavy and regular. They’re both sleeping deeply.
I dress quickly in the outfit I was planning on wearing, still hanging expectantly over the edge of a chair, then order an Uber on my phone, taking enough cash from Jerome’s wallet to pay the driver. I’ll pay it back somehow. Love can’t wait.
Glittering golden lights shimmer in the distance as the Uber glides over Nelson Mandela Boulevard. Every time I see this view I can’t believe how beautiful Cape Town is at night. It’s hypnotic. This is Fin’s view –that’s his city down there.
“You going to a party?” asks Masimba, the driver. His accent is unfamiliar. Zimbabwean, maybe.
“No. Well, kind of. I’m going to surprise my boyfriend. If he still is my boyfriend. I don’t even know anymore. My surprises don’t seem to go down very well.”
“He’s lucky. You are very beautiful.”
Ignoring the creepy compliment, I smile to be polite and look down at my phone clutched between my fingers. Even after our fight I didn’t remove the screensaver of us making duck faces at the camera. He always squints his right eye when he makes faces. “I’m the lucky one. Stupid. But lucky.”
“He’s a good guy, your boyfriend?”
I look up. Masimba glances at me in the rear-view mirror.
“He’s the most amazing guy in the whole world.” And it’s true, I suddenly realise with shocking clarity. He is. I’ve been such an idiot.
My phone vibrates and I hold it up. But it’s only a WhatsApp from Louis.
Are you up? We need to talk NOW.
I dismiss the message, suddenly annoyed. I’m not interested in what Louis has to say now. Why is he messaging me so late anyway? I shouldn’t have exaggerated about what Fin did. Why did I? To make myself look like a damsel in distress? It got Louis all worked up, but he’s not the one whose reaction matters.
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