I think every girl knows when she is beautiful. By this I mean on the physical front. I was physically beautiful. Inner beauty is what the rest console themselves with when it comes to facing facts. We don’t spend ten hours in front of the mirror to try and properly put base on our inner beauty. I don’t need anyone to tell me this. Its not being vein its fact. I don’t flaunt it nor do I climb a mountain and crow over it. Its simple and straight forward. I am beautiful and every other person who looks at me even when they find fault in me see it too. Even when I was in primary school older boys would comment how one day I would become a heartbreaker. I was not sure what it meant back then but now I do with devastating consequences. Am I sorry for having broken so many hearts, no am not, why should I be? By the time I was seventeen I was already rejecting men older than my father. I had even slowed down on visiting my friend’s houses because on more than one occasion I had caught their fathers stare at me. It’s hard to get comfortable with that but as a girl you learn to deal with it. At 17 I already knew that even at parties I should never get isolated from my friends because so many boys desired me. It’s sad but it’s true. Beauty is not all that it’s cut out to be for at times it comes with a curse. Trust me I know.
Was it not Jane Austen who said that it is a universally acknowledged fact that a good man in fortune should be in want of a wife. That was a long time ago, early 19th century to be exact but its relevance even today is quite profound. I was not always like this. In fact, I grew up in a good family with good moral values. My parents were not too strict nor where they less strict so to say. I was allowed to date but within reason, the occasional party and movies with my friends. I was allowed sleep over’s at friends places and vice versa. I did not grow up with a single parent either, on the contrary, my parents were happily married and supportive. Why am I telling you all this? I want you to realise that I was neither rural nor from a township. I was a normal middle class girl. Even at school I would say I was an average student, mostly Bs and Cs nothing fancy. I spoke fluent English and unlike those other girls that speak like me, I actually passed it at school.
Dress code I wore like any other teen. Yes I had one or two short dresses but nothing scandalous. It was mostly skinnies and tops. We had enough money for the occasional Wednesday shopping but none of that platinum card business you see on TV. I wish.
I don’t think I was a late bloomer but amongst most of the girls I knew I was considered one. I lost my virginity at 17. I knew a girl in my school who was already giving it up and she was only 14. I know a lot of people would want to say what a corrupt school but if you ask your little sisters and daughters, this is the norm of today. When I lost my virginity I was considered to be a late bloomer. Sex is nice yes but only in the moment of having it. There is always the drama of making sure the condom didn’t fall off and cuddle me nonsense that come afterwards. It’s weird but even as teenagers we know it’s one thing that people place way too much weight on. But that’s another story for this not what happened one Thursday evening after hockey practise. I have always dreamt to be a geologist, random neh, but true. Everyone else who lacks creativity and ambition wants to be a doctor, a lawyer and yes the heaven of South African students an Accountant! I think there are more Bcom Accounting students in this country than we have hobos! We just love numbers yet we not the smartest people to be honest.
I was with my friend Sibongile; we called her Cbowie for short. Practise had been hectic as usual and Ms Du Toit had just made us do yet another fitness drill because she said we looked lethargic in the last match. Guess what, we actually won it by a goal to nil. I was dating Thabo at the time. It was fun but Thabo was not dependable. He was a rugby player at school and like me lived on pocket money from parents. I am not saying I was dating him for money; on the contrary, he was possibly my first love. He broke my virginity even but that’s a story for another day. Thabo was unreliable in that he was always out with his friends. Whenever I wanted to hang with him he would be with his boys. I didn’t mind much but at times it got to me. We were schoolmates so I saw him every day. I spent most breaks with him problem came after school. I am a girl child so at home my freedom at home is not as easy to get as is his. I felt as though he would say let’s go out at times he knew it was impossible for us to go out. I always had he was out or he had been seen at places I could never have dreamt off. Once I heard he had kissed some girl from my school and I went ballistic. You know that playground drama were everyone wants to see a fight. Fortunately she backed down and apologized otherwise I am certain she would have kicked my ass. That’s why
I had gone with my hockey girls for the confrontation. We had each other’s back like that. Thabo there was hardly a saint but you know how back in high school you used to draw hearts in a book and cross out letters in your names to see how well you matched… That was me! He was my man, yeah; an 18 year old boy was old enough to be labelled a man. Deep I tell you.
Anyway on this particular late afternoon it looked as though it was about to rain. In fact there were a few drizzles as we walked home. Cbowie and I didn’t live too far apart but I was further than her by a few streets. We had missed our transport because we had gone to the hostel to pick up a book at one from our friends room. As we turned away from the school road a Jaguar stopped. Thabo liked cars so I knew my cars. It was a familiar very respectable person so it was nothing harmless. I knew him as Siyanda’s dad. Siyanda had been two years my senior and was now in varsity. We used to meet him at the mall and he would small chat with my parents. It’s not like they were friends or anything, just being neighbourly. So when he offered us a lift it was harmless for we knew him. My name is Nelisa by the way so that you don’t confuse yourself going forward. She stayed about a kilometre from me so she had to be dropped off first. Because she was getting off first she had chosen to sit in the back seat. I noticed he was a geologist and I was doing a research project on it which was giving me flames. I told him about this and he said I must ask my parents first whether or not he should help me with it. That was not an odd request I suppose. He gave me his card. We dropped off Sibongile and then me.
That evening I told my parents that I had been having problems with the project. My dad who is an accountant had already tried and failed to help me. I told him about Siyanda’s dad but did not mention that he had given us a ride. I also told him it was Sibongile and I whom would be getting help from him. My dad called him to ask if it was ok and he said it was no problem at all.
I am ambitious I have to admit that. I am also impatient. I love things to happen. They don’t always happen as fast though. That night I dreamt of a Jaguar car. I am more a Mercedes Benz but something about it made me feel good. Girls at school get picked up by fancy cars but I wasn’t that girl. All I did was find it fascinating… for now!