Hot night air infused with the sweet scent of Honeysuckle drifted into the dark, upstairs bathroom.   The ghostly glow of the full moon illuminated the walls and floor through the open window.   The sound of the people braaing below reached Mpho’s ears - voices rose and fell followed by bursts of laughter.  She stood in the dark bathroom drying her hands on a hand towel as she looked down at her new friends below.

            They were whispering now and looking up at the bathroom window.  She ducked back into the darkness.  Why are they whispering? She frowned.  Stepping forward once again she could see they were now engrossed in whatever they were doing to the meat on the braai.

            “Come on,” Lutando hissed below.  “Before she comes down.”  He waved his hand urgently at someone who was out of view.

            “Okay, I’m on my way,” the voice was louder than it should have been - everyone below made a shushing sound.  Then there were giggles of people already on a high.

            “Here, I’ve got it.”  Mpho watched in horror as the men sprinkled dagga onto her steak that sizzled on the braai.  

            “No man!”  Lutando sounded angry. “You’re wasting the stuff.  Not so much, she’ll see it.”

            Don’t worry about seeing it, thought Mpho.  I can smell it.  The smell of burning dagga wafted up to her nose on a delicate breeze.  How do I get out of this?  I don’t want to eat that food but it is me against four men and three girls.  They’re all goofed.  Sighing, she made her way slowly down the stairs as her mind raced for a way out of this situation.

            She had met Lutando at a café when he had stopped in the police van for a coke.  At the time she had seen him as someone to look up to.  A person who was a defender of law and order.  She had been and still was the envy of her matric friends who thought it was so cool that she had a policeman for a boyfriend.  He had always been a gentleman, opening doors for her, never trying to take advantage of her, giving her lovely presents and always knowing what to say and when to say it.  That was until tonight.  Something had changed.

            “There she is,” Lutando held out his arms.  Mpho held a frozen smile on her face as he hugged her.  “What’s wrong baby?”

            Mpho shook her head.  “Nothing,” she whispered.

            Holding her at arms length he looked into her eyes, “sure?”

            “Sure.”

            “Well the food is cooked and ready to eat.  Come get your plate.  Salads and hot dishes are in the kitchen and once you’ve got that, I’ll get you your meat off the braai.”

            Mpho took her time getting the food in the kitchen and dreaded returning to the fire, she had to come up with a plan.  Her father had always told her, if she was ever in trouble, she must phone him but she didn’t want to do that.  She would soon be out of school - she was a big girl now.  Then she had an idea.

            “Lutando, could one of my girlfriends join us?”

            Lutando smiled his disarming smile.  “Sure thing, there’s more than enough food here.  You know where the phone is.”

            “Thanks.”

            Mpho quickly dialed the number, glancing over her shoulder to see if she had been followed into the lounge but everyone was outside.

            “Hallo?”

            “Tshepiso, it’s Mpho,” she whispered scared to raise her voice.

            “Mpho are you alright, why are you whispering?”  Tshepiso’s voice was the most wonderful sound to hear.  She and her school friends had always shunned Tshepiso - he was tubby, awkward with girls and clumsy in sport.  She remembered the words he had once spoken to her and hoped he had meant them.

            “Tshepiso, I need your help.   Did you mean what you said to me at school?”

            “What?”

            “That if I ever needed help I could rely on your to help me.”

            “Yes I did and any one of your friends too.”

            “Well I need help now,” Mpho was getting a cramp in her hand – she was holding the receiver so tight.

            “Where are you?”

            “I’m at 23 Joel Street, Hillbrow. Please come and pick me up.  I’ll hold out as long as I can.”

            Tshepiso paused before answering. “I can be there in fifteen minutes time.”

            The phone went dead.  Mpho returned to the party, where the men and women were all smoking joints.  This time she was calmer, she just had to play for time.

            “Hey there she is,” Lutando handed her plate to her.  “We thought you’d got lost.  Well eat up.”

            She began to eat her salad and potato bake very slowly chewing eat mouthful twenty times before swallowing.  Glancing up she could see expectant eyes on her.

            “Well aren’t you going to try your steak?”  Lutando asked impatiently.  “To see it is done the way you like it?”

            Smiling weakly, Mpho looked up.  “I like to eat my streak last as it has the nicest favour.”

            “Would you like a drink with that?” Robert another party reveler asked her. 

            “Actually that would be nice thank you,” she stood up.

            “Don’t worry I’ll get it for you,” he offered too eagerly.

            “No!  Thank you but no.  I always pour my own drinks when I am visiting people.”  Innocently she looked around her at the faces turned in her direction.  “After all you never know what someone might do to your drink.”  Quickly she made her way to the kitchen carrying her plate of food - she couldn’t take the chance that they might add some dagga to her potato salad.  Her food was almost finished, only the steak remained.

            “Baby what’s wrong?”  Lutando stood beside her.

            “You really want to know?”

            “Yeah of course I do.”

            “You allowed your friends to put dagga on my steak.  They are all sitting out there waiting for me to eat it to see what it does to me.  I thought you cared about me but you don’t. I am not eating this piece of steak!”

            Lutando grabbed the steak off her plate in his intoxicated state and placed it under running water, he poured some washing up liquid over it and began to rub it, then slapped it back onto her plate.

            “Satisfied!” he shouted.  “There’s no more dagga on the steak now eat it!”

            Mpho backed away from him frantically searching behind her for her bag, ready to make a run for it if Lutando moved towards her.

            “Eat it,” he roared.  Grabbing her, he tried to force the steak into her mouth.  She fought him with all her strength finally she managed to kick him in his shin.  He let go and she ran for the door.  He was close behind her, she could hear his breathing.  Unlatching the front gate she ran straight into Tshepiso who was just about to enter the premises.  Lutando in his stoned state was no match for Tshepiso.  He fell to the pavement with Tshepiso’s first punch.

            “Thank you Tshepiso,” Mpho sobbed into his shoulder as he gave her a reassuring hug.

            “Come lets get out of here before the others realise their friend hasn’t returned to the party.”  He opened the door of the car for her.

            “Tshepiso.”  Mpho looked at her hands in her lap while he drove her home.  “I’m really sorry for the way me and my friends have treated you.  You have a really big heart.  I don’t think any other boy from school would have done what you did tonight.   You’re like the big brother I never had.   I promise you won’t be teased at school again if I can help it, everyone will know what you did.”  She gave him a sideways glance.

            “Well I was hoping –“

            “Yes?”

            “Well that you wouldn’t think of me as your big brother but more as a friend and who knows maybe a boyfriend sometime.”  He gave her a mischievous grin.  “I’ll go to gym and get in shape – I promise.”

            “You don’t have to do that Tshepiso, your fine as you are.”