Alex got Anna to drop him off at the church for the New Year Party. He had dressed up a little – in his good jeans and a short-sleeved black button-up shirt. He had taken special care to get his hair right and he had used a good amount of the new cologne he had got for Christmas. He carried a bunch of multi-coloured roses that he had bought that morning and hidden in his room during the braai. He wasn’t going to be so obvious as to give them to Jill, but he had a plan. As he walked up the stairs he knew he was nervous. Tonight was the night to break his promise to Jill and forget this friend rubbish. He pushed his brief conversation with James earlier out of his mind. James hadn’t been there at those times they had laughed and talked for hours together. He couldn’t feel what Alex knew for sure in his heart – that Jill wanted to be with him. He knew it. She wanted to let herself give in and admit that she liked him. Her principles had held her back until now but he was sure that if he just let her know again that he still felt the same, that she would put them aside and admit her feelings.
He went inside and scanned the room for her, but it was dark and she didn’t seem to be there yet. The hall looked different – the lights were off, except for strings of twinkly Christmas lights along the walls and a few colourful disco lights near a table set up with DJ equipment. Music was playing, not too loudly yet, and David stood behind the table with headphones on, moving his head in time to a beat and fiddling with something on the desk. The roof was decorated with black and white streamers, and silver-painted cardboard stars hanging from the ceiling. There were a few tables set up around the sides, with white tablecloths and silver candles burning in the centre. On each table, tiny confetti stars had been scattered. The kids who had already arrived stood about or sat at the tables talking. The atmosphere was warm and excited. But he couldn’t see Jill.
Anya appeared out of the kitchen carrying a tray of paper cups, wobbling slightly in a pair of high heeled shoes. Alex almost did a double take. She looked so different.
“Alex!” she called, putting the cups down on a table and coming up to him. “Yes, I know,” she said, noticing his surprise. “My mum said this dress was ‘demure’. All black isn’t usually my style, and I think I look like my grandmother in these pearls and with my hair up, but I like it, for a change. You clean up nice – but then of course you would. Very smart!” She reached out and adjusted his collar, patting his chest when she finished. She noticed the roses in his hand and gasped. “And those? Don’t tell me …”
“One for you, of course,” he said, pulling out a pink rose and handing it to her. “You look amazing, Anya. I hardly recognised you!”
“Well thanks, I think,” said Anya, lifting her eyebrows. “Even I like to break the mould a little sometimes.”
“Jill must be here somewhere,” he said, looking around.
“She’s doing something in the kitchen,” said Anya. “Thanks for
the rose, dude. For a moment there I thought you had gone out of your mind and were going to make a scene. Phew. But this is okay. This is cool.” She snapped most of the stem off the rose and stuck it inside her hairdo. Her thick curls kept it firmly where she had put it.
“Alex!” He turned to see that Ricardo and Bianca had arrived, Bianca in a yellow dress and Ricardo in a yellow shirt with a black tie. “Looking fly, bru,” said Ricardo, slapping him on the back.
“You too, man,” said Alex. He gave Bianca a rose too, a yellow one. When Hayley appeared a moment later she got a white rose, and so did one or two of the other girls Alex had met over the last few weeks. One of them was the girl who had tripped over the volleyball ropes, and she blushed deep red as she accepted hers. One rose was left, and Alex excused himself from the buzzing group and went towards the kitchen.
Before he got there, she appeared at the door. He had seen her only a few hours before, but now he felt a strange lurch in his chest as she saw him and smiled, and came towards him.
“Hi,” she said. “You look smart.”
Alex had fallen for Jill in her shorts and T-shirts, in her sweaty running clothes and her cheap slip slops. He had never once thought she should put on some make-up or change anything at all about the way she looked. His appreciation of her went deeper than that. But now, his first thought was that she was beautiful. She had something sparkly at her ears, her hair was up, and she looked older, elegant. Perfect. He couldn’t remember much afterwards about the dress she was wearing, other than that it was some kind of bluey green, and that the urge to step up to her and place his hand on the soft fabric at the curve of her waist was almost unbearable.
“You look beautiful, Jill.” It came out before he could think about it, and he meant it. He held out the last rose. The only red one.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh,” she said, accepting it cautiously. “It’s … lovely.”
“Jill!” Anya rushed up to Jill and grabbed her arm. “Have you seen Tristan? He’s wearing a white suit! Ooh, that’s a pretty one. Have you seen mine? And Bianca’s is yellow like her dress.” She turned her head to show Jill the rose in her hair.
Jill took a second to take in what Anya had said and then relaxed. “Oh,” she said. “All the girls got roses?”
“Until I ran out,” said Alex. “I saved that one for you.”
“The red one,” said Anya. “Of course!”
“Thank you,” said Jill. “No one has ever given me flowers before.”
“Really? Never?” said Alex. “Not even nameless Aussie guy?”
“Nameless Aussie guy?” said Anya. “What?” “Her ex,” he said.
“Oh yes.” Anya made a face. “That dude was sweet but so serious and boring. Roses from him – forget it.”
Jill gave Anya a look; her ‘That’s enough, Anya!’ look, and turned back to Alex. “Nope. First flower ever.”
“Well it was my honour then,” he said, taking in the shy smile she gave him with her answer. The roses had been a brainwave. So far, so good.
“Let’s sit down,” said Jill. “I’m not used to walking around in these shoes.”
They went over to the table where their friends had settled, and spent a while drinking sparkling grape juice out of plastic champagne glasses and snacking on bowls of chips and popcorn. Someone said they looked as if they were going to a Matric Dance, and that set off a discussion about Matric Dances and what they would be like. Alex sat back in his plastic chair and surveyed this group he had spent so much of his holiday with. They were so different to his Cape Town friends. When he wondered why, all he could come up with, besides the obvious that his friends mostly went to private schools and were much wealthier than these kids, was that they seemed more grounded. More chilled. None of them seemed to be chasing popularity, and trying to impress each other or anyone else. They took care of each other and enjoyed each other despite the huge differences in their backgrounds and cultures. When he looked around he realised that except for Jill and himself, no two of them had the same cultural background. They were a crazy mix of English, Afrikaans, Xhosa and Austrian, three different races, from completely different schools or even no school at all. They were so different, yet they seemed almost like family to each other. It was something to do with church, he thought, with the Christian thing. That was something they shared. He wondered how on earth he had become part of them, even for this short time. It was the surfing, he supposed, Jill and the surfing.
“Alex! What planet are you on?” Ricardo was jabbing him in the ribs. “So? What does your school do for a Matric Dance?”
“We have it at the school,” said Alex. “The Grade Elevens decorate the hall.”
“Same with our school,” said Hayley. “The parents cook the food.”
“Not ours,” said Alex. “They get caterers to do it. The kids hire limos to drop them off. Last year one guy arrived with his date in a helicopter.”
“No ways!” said Anya.
“Are you serious?” said Fezile. “Eish, man, that is out of control.
A helicopter!”
“It was a bit over the top,” said Alex, reaching for a chip. “Over the top?” said Jill. “You thought it was over the top?” “I thought so,” said Alex.
Then Anya shrieked and slapped Jill on the back. “Over the top!” she exploded. “Jill, you … oh my goodness, the helicopter was OVER THE TOP!”
The others got the joke and they all collapsed laughing. Jill tried to keep a straight face, but soon she was smiling with them. Alex caught her eye. “Okay, you got me,” he said. “Maybe I said it on purpose.”
“Naai man,” spluttered Ricardo, wiping his eyes. “You never did!”
“But seriously now,” said Anya, rubbing at the mascara running down her face after her tears of laughter. “Feel sorry for us home schooled kids. I don’t get to have a Matric Dance. And Ricardo doesn’t either. So, I’ll just pretend this is mine. Even if all there is to eat is chips and popcorn.”
“Ricardo might,” said Bianca. “If someone asks him.”
“Ooooh,” said Anya, Hayley and Fezile together. Ricardo grinned and put his arm around her affectionately. “Do they let guys like me with dark tans in at your Matric Ball?” he said. “I don’t want to get bounced out of there!”
“Hey, I’ve got a tan darker than yours and I go to that school!” said Hayley, indignantly.
“Of course they do, don’t be dof,” said Bianca. “The deputy principal has an afro bigger than yours.”
They all laughed at that. Alex looked over at Jill and started wondering how he could get her to come to his Matric Dance next year. Maybe he could pay for her to fly from PE to Cape Town to be his date. It wasn’t any more over the top than arriving in a helicopter.
“Hi guys!” James had come up to their table and put his hands on Jill’s and Anya’s shoulders. “How’s it going over here? You all look amazing!”
“Great thank you, James,” said Anya. “But we think it’s time for the dancing. Don’t you, guys?”
“Okay, I was thinking that too,” said James. “I’ll tell DJ David to get it going.” He headed towards back of the hall. After a few seconds he was tapping on a mic.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said into the mic in a deep voice. The conversation buzz died down a little. “Hope you’re all enjoying your refreshments!”
“Did you run out of caviar?” shouted someone, and they all laughed.
“Yes, well, you get what you pay for,” said James, grinning. “It’s time for the next part of the evening – dancing!”
There were simultaneous cheers and groans at that.
“To make it less awkward and embarrassing, because you are high school kids after all ...” He grinned at the mixture of whoops and boos from the audience. “We’re going to kickstart things a little. Everybody up and in a circle!”
Again with the cheesy activities, thought Alex. He was too old for this, really. But his friends were getting up, fully intending, it seemed, to take part in whatever embarrassing game James had planned. He might as well be a sport. Jill liked it when he was a sport.
“Okay!” said James. “There are probably more girls here tonight, so guys take a step forward and make a circle facing outwards. Girls you make a circle around the guys facing them.”
After a lot of giggling and squealing and a bit of shoving they got it right. Alex stood in the circle facing the girls and couldn’t quite believe he was doing this. He hoped there wouldn’t be any tomato sauce and shaving cream involved this time.
“Right!” said James. “David is going to play a song, and you need to face each other and dance in the style of that song. When we change songs, take one step to your left and you’ll be facing someone else. Or a different bunch of people. Whatever. Get it?”
There were nods and shouts from the two circles, interspersed with a few moans, of course. But James ignored that. “Take it away, David!”
The first song came on – Gangnam Style. Alex faced Bianca and Hayley and thought, what the heck. He was leaving in a few days, and if he was embarrassing himself, at least everyone else was too. He played along, and the girls did too, laughing all the time. They did look funny doing the energetic dance in their formal clothes. Alex looked over at Ricardo who was putting everything he had into it. Jill and Anya were opposite him and were bent double laughing. The music changed, to a Kwaito track with a deep beat and heavy bass. Alex moved to the left and found himself in front of two tiny Grade Eight girls. He did his best to remember the hip-hop style dance moves and so did they, but when he looked over at Fezile he realised he was doing it all wrong. Then it changed to something Irish, and Alex was facing another girl he didn’t know. She just smiled and started jumping up and down with her arms folded as if she was in Riverdance. I must be crazy, he thought, but he joined in and it wasn’t too terrible. By the time he got to Jill he had attempted Israeli dancing, some cowboy barn dance moves, the Macarena and some heavy metal head-banging. He had forgotten about looking silly and was enjoying it. When he stepped to the left and found himself in front of Jill, the music had changed to Kurt Darren singing an Afrikaans ballad.
“Come on guys!” called James from the front. “This is the last one, time to sokkie! Grab your partner – girls you’ll have to double up – and show us your skills!” He left the front himself and took Bianca’s hand, and they were off around the hall, arms extended to the front, doing the sokkie dance.
“I have not the faintest idea how to do this,” said Alex to Jill. Her cheeks were rosy from the dancing and her hair was coming down a little around her face. He didn’t really want to sokkie but he wanted to dance with Jill, and if it meant having to act like a farmer on a Tuesday night he would do it.
“I don’t really know either,” said Jill. “We can just sit down.”
“No, no. Let’s try. Please.”
“Really? You surprise me,” said Jill. “Okay. You start like a ballroom dance I suppose.” They stepped towards each other and took hands. She put her other hand on his shoulder and he carefully put his on her waist.
“That’s it luvvies!” yelled Anya as she swished past with Ricardo. “Hand on her shoulder blade, Palmer! No lower!”
Jill laughed at her friend and Alex reluctantly moved his hand up.
“There you go,” said Jill.
“Can you do a quickstep?” asked Alex. “I think it will fit with this music.”
“I think so,” she said.
Alex found that he remembered what to do, enough to lead her around the floor a few times. When he had figured it out enough and didn’t have to concentrate so hard he relaxed. He was dancing with her and it felt amazing. He had never been so close to her. He could smell the perfume she was wearing. Her hand was in his. He could feel the warmth of her back under his hand. She had something soft and shiny on her lips. He hadn’t liked dancing like this before; he had been to a few school-sponsored lessons because he was the head boy and he would have to open the dance floor at the Matric Dance next year, but it had seemed irrelevant and boring to him, just a show of tradition. Now he got it. Dancing with Jill, moving to the music with her, was the best feeling he had ever had in his life. This was the way it should be, he thought. She had to feel it too.
She wasn’t meeting his eyes, though. She was feeling nervous too, he thought. He hoped it was a good sign.
The song ended and they parted. The ice was well and truly broken and when David played the next song most of the kids stayed on the floor, dancing in groups. Alex tried to keep hold of Jill’s hand.
“Thanks,” said Jill. “That was nice. You lead well.” She looked down at their hands, then took hers away. “Let’s go back,” she said.
He nodded, and they made their way back to their table.
By the time ten thirty came and the music stopped, Alex felt as if the whole evening had passed in a flash. He had surprised himself again and danced some more, with everyone in the group, and then ballroom style with Anya who had begged him to do it. She said she loved it so much and the only guys who didn’t step on her toes were James and Ricardo. He had tried and mostly succeeded to stick with Jill, managing to catch her eye and get a smile out of her a few times. Once he asked her if she was feeling too warm and wanted to go outside for a while, hoping for a private moment, but she said she was fine. And now the party was over, and he hadn’t had a chance yet to be alone with her.
After the party, some of the older kids made a plan to go down to the beach to wait for midnight. Anya, Hayley and Bianca had a hard time convincing their parents that it was safe, but they gave in and let them come when James promised to be responsible for them. Ricardo’s dad was on duty at the beach anyway, so he didn’t mind, and Jill and Fez, who both lived with adults who were not their parents, gave each other sympathetic glances and asked no one’s permission.
When they got to the beach, the mood was festive. It was about eleven o’clock, and they weren’t the only people who had thought the beach was the best place to be that night. There were glowing lights all along the sand, groups of people dancing to music from boomboxes, and the occasional premature firecracker. They took off their smart shoes and walked over the sand to find a spot. Soon Jill found herself sitting in a circle, squashed together against the slightly chilly breeze from the sea, with Alex on one side and Anya on the other. It was such a beautiful evening; she felt content and happy, caught up in the excitement of the party and the mood on the beach. They shared out some sparkling grape juice in plastic cups. Jill felt a little cold; all she had to put over her dress was a thin cardigan, and when Alex saw her shiver he gave her the sweatshirt he had brought. She smiled at him gratefully. She had been a little concerned at the “You look beautiful” compliment. And the red rose. And the dancing had been … it had felt very close. Intimate. Nice, but not in a way she felt happy about afterwards. More than once that evening she had looked up and caught his eye. But there hadn’t been any romantic talk for ages, since the night after Twister. Surely she was imagining it. After Anya had warned her, she had made such an effort not to encourage him. She hoped it was enough.
Anya was telling jokes that were so bad and ridiculous they were funny. Ricardo did his Nelson Mandela impression. They talked for a while about all the funny things that had happened at the beach mission. James leant back on his elbows, next to them, looking out at the sea. She wondered what he was thinking.
Suddenly she felt something on her back. Oh no, please, she thought. That couldn’t be Alex’s hand – could it? In another second, she knew it was. He had put his arm behind her and was moving his hand up the small of her back, towards her shoulder. She felt sick. That one small gesture told her so much: that all this time he had been taking things the wrong way, that he had not been serious when he had promised to be just friends. The rose, the compliments, the dancing – what a mess, she thought. Boys and girls could be friends, but not all the time. Not this time.
She shrugged a little, hoping he would stop. Maybe he would take a hint and they could talk about this another time. But he didn’t stop. His hand had reached her shoulder, his arm was around her, and this was so not just a friendship any more. It was dark; the other kids were laughing and distracted and couldn’t see.
“Alex,” she said softly. She didn’t want the others to hear. He looked at her. Oh, that look. She had been so wrong. Nothing had changed; it had only got worse. He was looking at her as if he fully expected her to be happy about what he was doing. As if he was completely confident that she had changed her mind. Where did he get this from? She felt angry with him for a second, frustrated that he hadn’t listened to her, that he had broken his promise and assumed so much.
Her face told him all he needed to know. And his expression changed in an instant – from confident hope to hurt and betrayal.
He took back his arm and turned his face away. He stood up.
“Hey Alex, what …” said Ricardo.
“Leave me alone,” he said. The conversation stopped. They were all looking at him, except for Jill, who had her face in her hands. He turned away, and as he turned he swore. A really awful word. Anya gasped. Alex had never used language like that around them. As he made his way blindly across the sand, he said it again, loudly. Other people stared, and someone laughed. In a few seconds he was gone, and Jill was crying into Anya’s arms, her tears soaking the sleeve of Alex’s sweatshirt.
After Alex’s exit the mood was different.
“It’s okay, guys,” James had said. “I’ll go and find him a little later. Don’t stress.”
Jill was grateful for that. Grateful that he was deflecting the attention away from her, although she was pretty sure they all knew what it was about, and grateful that he was going to check on Alex. She wanted to do it herself but she knew this was one thing she couldn’t help him with. She felt sad too, terribly sad, because this meant that they couldn’t be friends after all. She had been wrong – so horribly, stupidly wrong. Jill sat silent, her head against Anya’s shoulder. The thought that she was the reason for that hurt, that ugly outburst, made her feel awful. She hated to cause anyone to suffer and that image of his face, that look of betrayal and anger, disturbed her deeply. The tears stopped after a while but lingered under the surface. She was glad that it was dark so the others couldn’t see her face. Later James took a walk around to see if he could find Alex, but when he came back he just shook his head at Jill and shrugged his shoulders.
Just before midnight there was a countdown, then lots of cheering and fireworks going off. Jill tried to join in the fun but her heart wasn’t in it. They stayed for a little longer, wishing each other Happy New Year and watching the fireworks, then made their way up the sand to the parking lot so James could take them home.
Just before she got to the stairs, a girl’s shrill laugh caught Jill’s attention. She looked towards the sound. A group of four or five people sat on the rocks a few metres away. They were clustered around a camping lantern, a big cooler box and a bluetooth speaker playing some trancy dance music. Some of them held glow sticks that they waved in the air in time to the music. All of them seemed to be smoking; she could see the orange glow of the cigarettes and smell the smoke. She heard the laugh again. It came from a tall blonde girl who was sitting on someone’s lap. His arm was around her waist, a drink in his hand. When she laughed he pulled her towards him. It was dark but it was obvious they were kissing. It’s one of the beautiful beach girls, she realised. Sam. She didn’t want to stare, and was about to look away, when the guy leaned forward to put down his drink. It was Alex.
Anya and James were next to her. She looked at them and knew they had seen it too. “I guess he’s gonna be okay,” said Anya, giving Jill a sympathetic smile. Then she took Jill’s arm and led her away, up the steps.
Jill thought she wouldn’t sleep much after she got home. She was such a mess of conflicting thoughts. She had felt guilty and concerned for Alex, embarrassed that her friends had witnessed his hurt, and almost ashamed at her part in it. But as she lay in bed she began to feel angry and humiliated. What a big fuss for nothing, when he was happy to go and kiss someone else on the beach straight away! Was she jealous? No – she knew she didn’t want to be the girl sitting on his lap. But she had thought they were friends – they were friends! She had shared her heart with him, and he had opened up to her. They were close. They had been close. But now, she wondered if she ever wanted to see him again. It felt like a loss, and what she felt most of all was grief.
But sleep came more easily than she thought. Oh Father, she prayed as she felt herself drifting off, I’m sorry. Maybe I was foolish. I shouldn’t have sat so close on the beach, and worn his sweatshirt. I don’t know how to fix this. Please help me to do the right thing. And Alex – please, please don’t let him get away with ignoring you forever.
New Year’s Day passed quietly for Alex. He got home just before the sun rose. Sam and her friends had brought fruit juice spiked with vodka and he had drunk a lot of it. His head ached all day and he felt sick to his stomach, not just from the alcohol. The weather was overcast that day, and a strong wind was blowing, so he lay on the couch and watched TV, trying to avoid thinking about anything. Ricardo sent him a message, but he ignored it. Anna gave him suspicious looks from behind her book, and his Mom tried to ask if he was okay, but he tuned them out. Later he put on his earphones and a hoodie and walked along the beach listening to music, trying to keep his mind as blank as he could until he could face what had happened. But it wasn’t possible. The truth was finally sinking in. She doesn’t care, he thought, as he fought against the wind. He had been wrong and she felt nothing for him. He had made a fool of himself. He swore un