I have been in love only once in my life. You cannot describe the feeling to anyone who has never felt it for themselves and for a person like me, a person who has always been afraid of making a fool of himself and has taught himself how to make sure he is always sure of anything he says or does, all the words that could seemingly describe the experience of love just seem so unbelievably stupid, clumsy and out of character. I am now thirty years old. I live alone in a five bedroom house in the North Western suburbs of Johannesburg. I spend my days running the construction company my father built and people say I’m pretty good at it. I spend most nights in my study with the lights in the rest of the house off, sometimes the lights in the study are off too. I wake up every morning to the smell of breakfast cooked by Lesedi, the more reliable and trust worthy of my two maids. They live in the cottages in the backyard and are probably the only people who have met the real me in a very long time. By now I can imagine that you’re starting to pity me and believe I live an awfully sad and lonely life. I would like you to stop that immediately. I like my life as it is, I like unwinding alone in dark rooms after spending a day smiling at virtual strangers and telling everyone what to do. I was happy believing this until I received a letter in the mail from an address in Hong Kong. It was from a girl I used to know, a girl I haven’t thought about in years. We went to high school together.

In high school I was not much different from the way I am now. I liked being alone in my room when I was home every night and I was treated as a bright student in the classroom every day. My days were predictable, my years too. Every year we got one or two new students added to our class register. They were excellent students, handpicked from regular schools and poor backgrounds to be given quality education for free. They were all quite similar. None of them was ever willing to talk about home or their upbringing and by the end of the year they were just as mean and spoiled as the kids who came from rich families with more than enough. I was never interested in any of them and only spoke to them if we were grouped together for an assignment or if one of us dropped a pen and the other felt obligated to help pick it up. Beyond that they were invisible to me. By tenth grade I had stopped seeing the point in learning their names. I was slightly relieved we were in tenth grade because this meant it was the last year we would receive any new students in our class. The school had strict rules about admissions in the eleventh and twelfth grade. I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when I learned that we were receiving one more student at the beginning of eleventh grade. It was a rare and uncommon occurrence in the school and usually meant that the student was really something. It didn’t make much of a difference to me when the students came to our school, it always went the same way. I remember the day she was first introduced to the class, I didn’t catch her name but I did take note of her smile. They all smiled during the introduction, I’m quite sure they were instructed to do so moments before stepping into the classroom. But her smile confused me, it started a moment too early and never really faded as the others did at the end of the speech. Beyond that I saw nothing interesting enough about her to hold my attention much longer.

Every year the school would pair two students doing the same cluster of subjects and make them somewhat responsible for the academic success of one another. It never really helped anyone but most people worked well together under the academic buddy system. In tenth grade I was paired with a guy named Tshepang. Infinitely more talkative than I am but smart enough to pull his own weight and keep us from being called in for a buddy hearing. As a pair our average mark for all our subjects was not allowed to be more that fifteen percent apart. Anything above a fifteen percent difference warranted a hearing. I never learned anything about Tshepang beyond his name and three months down the line I had forgotten I had a buddy at all. By some stroke of luck we were never summoned for a hearing. I was happy to know that he wasn’t lagging too far behind me. I was a little nervous about being paired with someone new. I didn’t want to carry anyone. That would require a level of patience I did not at the time possess. When the buddy lists were released I hurried to see who I was paired with, a small part of me hoped that I would get Tshepang again, that way I could get away with neglecting the system for another year. I wouldn’t be so lucky. That year my name was printed right next to Nontobeko Buthelezi. I had no idea who she was.

I didn’t get much sleep that night. I was too preoccupied thinking about what having a new partner would mean for the way I operate and what meeting a new person would mean for me in general. When I was younger, meeting new people was always very stressful and frustrating. I had to try very hard not to offend most people. It wasn’t that I cared about their feelings, quite frankly, I was only concerned with their perception of me. People would talk, and they didn’t always say good things about me. I wondered if Nontobeko had heard anything about me yet and what it is she might have heard.

Most people knew who their partners were the instant they read their names. So the next day in the assembly hall when we were all asked to find our buddies and get acquainted, I sat down and leaned against the wall as they all threw smiles at one another. Some smiles were faker than others. The new girl came and took a seat next to me. The way she addressed me made it seem as though she was concerned about my wellbeing. Considering where I was sitting, I suppose I can’t blame her for being a little unsettled or concerned. She did a good job of concealing her curiosity, but I noticed. I always notice. “Have you met up with your partner already?” she asked in an indifferent tone, not even facing me when she did. Reluctantly I responded and held nothing back “I haven’t, I’m pretty sure she must be looking for me. Truth is I don’t really want to meet her, this whole buddy system doesn’t do me any good so I’m going to stay here and delay meeting my partner for as long as I can. Maybe this will help her get the message that just because we’re buddies it doesn’t mean that we have to be friends. I like being on my own”. Her head never moved as she listened. We were sitting with both our backs against the wall but in more of a back to back position than a side to side one. I realised that what I had just said might come across as rude and a little too honest so I quickly asked about her and her partner. “Oh, I’ve met him,” She said, “I think he’s off talking to one of the girls. He’s quite a quiet one though, I hadn’t heard him speak before today. They tell me he’s pretty smart, so I’m glad I won’t have to worry about him struggling to keep up with me… They’re going to call us for assembly as pairs soon. You should go find her”. I nodded and prepared myself to stand up as she walked away, she turned back abruptly to ask what my name was. “Fikile, and yours?” I responded, only asking for her name in an attempt to be polite. She smiled a moment too early and I realised who she was. “I’m Nontobeko Buthelezi” she said with a smile of unknowingness. She played and outsmarted me, it was an odd feeling. But as far as academic buddies go, it seemed like I’d have a good time this year. Perhaps even make a friend. I hadn’t met someone interesting in a long time, let alone someone I would consider befriending.

I took my place next to her at the buddies assembly without saying a word. Slightly embarrassed I faced the front of the hall. I never listened to the speech, it wasn’t important. The day resumed and we went about our classes for the day. I didn’t speak to her again that day, but I watched her. I wanted to see how she interacted with the others. I wanted to watch and understand her. She never glanced at me as I watched and although I was discrete, I was quite certain she knew I was watching.

Part II & III