Between Us

Chapter 2: Siya Mahlangu

Starting over has never been easy.

Especially when your parents were breaking up, your mom was moving to Canada, you were moving to another city and to top it all off a new school. Zola didn't understand why she had to move. She could have simply stayed behind and signed in at her school's hostel. She had gone through too many changes all at once, it didn't feel fair that she had to be subjected to changes that she was not ready for.

So if she were to ever lash out, well... Mommy made her do it.

On top of all the things she was not ready for, she also had to add not being ready for her drama club meeting. Her mind was overflowing with thoughts of how to adjust to this whole situation as she tried to carry herself as far and as fast as her Anais Waterson-like legs could carry her.

"Curse my stupid genes." Jeans. She chuckled to herself after tripping and almost falling for the third time. When she finally made it to the hall where the meeting was actually held - this was after she got lost and ended up at the wrong venue, the doors were closed. Great. She had to struggle to open the heavy wooden doors that lead to the school hall. That was the day she learned that the hall doors were extremely loud upon opening and closing, and they were sure to attract as much attention as a naked guy high on acid running through the school. Her tardy entrance led to many eyes being on her. She did not like that, that was until her own eyes landed on a very lovely looking lady who was sitting on a small table in front of the whole group of students. She was not dressed in the wonderful red and blue uniform that was on everyone else so the assumption was made that she was Ms Jensen, the art teacher.

"Uhm, sorry, is the drama club meeting?" Zola asked already feeling the sweat gathering on her forehead -from both the brisk run/walk she made to get here and the many eyes on her. Some students rolled their eyes and looked back to the front. Ms Jensen with the red-framed glasses was quick to welcome her.

"That it is. Welcome to my side gig, please take a seat." Miss Jensen said, waving her arm over the students. And take a seat she did. Zola immediately felt like Miss Jensen was someone she should pay attention to. She didn't know if it was the red checkered suit; the open toe black platforms; her twist-out or her seemingly preppy personality, but she already liked her. The guy she sat next to must have noticed her flushed reaction and so he tapped her twice on her arm to get her attention.

"She gives off good vibes, doesn't she? Yeah, she's a pretty chill 'teacher'." He said with air quotes around the word teacher.

"'Teacher'? What's wrong with the word teacher?" She asked him, sneaking glances at Miss Jensen -who was making notes in a small book- multiple times during the interaction.

"She prefers the term guide. Said she doesn't necessarily teach us creativity because we all have that naturally, she instead guides us on how to channel it properly and have fun with it." He replied, making a lot of hand movements.

"Oh." That was all Zola said before she turned all her attention back toward her guide.

Miss Jensen then started to brief the drama kids about the year's projects. This year was going to be a busy one. They had one huge play to prepare for, and two separate smaller acts. Geez. Zola had never done this much at her old school, do they work overtime here? How were they supposed to rehearse; build sets; design the costumes and makeup; and make costumes for three plays? She didn't see that happening on top of schoolwork. The year had not even properly commenced but she could already see herself struggling.

"I'll need all of your names and contacts to add to the group chat so I can send you all the audition scripts and dates." Miss Jensen said, handing the girl in front of her a single sheet of yellow paper and a colourful looking pen. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that the pen was covered in multiple colourful tiny rubber bands. Cute. Zola wrote her name and number down when the paper reached her and handed it and the pen over to the attentive fellow sitting next to her. His vitiligo skin seemingly glowed under the few rays of sunlight that filtered through into the large echoey hall.