Chapter One – How It All Began
I was in Grade 12 when I met her — Miss Unknown. Yeah, I know what you’re probably thinking: “How can a whole grown man like you be talking about his first love that late?” But let me explain.
It’s not that I’d never been with girls before. I had my little stories, my flings, and a few “situationships” that barely lasted longer than a packet of biscuits in our room. But this… this was different. She wasn’t like the others. She had this presence — the kind that made the air feel lighter but my chest feel heavier at the same time.
That’s why I called her my first lover. Not because she was the first girl I ever held hands with, but because she was the first who made my heartbeat feel like it was performing intricate gymnastics. The first who made me lose my sense of time. The first who, without even trying, made me contemplate the idea of forever.
Funny thing is, she didn’t just appear out of nowhere. She was a friend of Taciturn — my closest female friend. Taciturn, the girl who doesn’t talk much but always knows exactly what’s going on. In fact, she’s the one who orchestrated our introduction.
I still remember the day vividly. The sun hung high above the schoolyard, pouring its merciless heat over restless students scattered like lazy ants after lunch break. I was leaning casually against the wall, lost in thought, when Taciturn approached with that sly, knowing smirk she wears when she’s about to stir up trouble.
“Khayone,” she said, “I want you to meet someone.”
I barely reacted — Taciturn had a habit of introducing me to new faces. But then she emerged from behind her, and the world seemed to decelerate. Miss Unknown. She carried a smile so disarming it felt almost weaponised, and her braids swayed with a kind of effortless choreography that demanded attention.
A sudden, involuntary jolt of astonishment surged through me; my breath caught, my palms grew uncomfortably damp, and an almost imperceptible tremor ran through my fingers.
She didn’t say much at first — just a single, understated “Hi.” But that one word lingered in the air, intoxicating and magnetic, the kind you’d replay in your mind hours later while staring at the ceiling, wondering why it resonated so deeply.
I didn’t realise it yet, but that brief encounter was about to reshape far more than just my final year of high school.
After school, we all made our way back to our apartment — emqashweni, as we liked to call it.
The place wasn’t glamorous, but it was ours. Four walls, thin mattresses, a leaky tap, and a bond between six guys that was stronger than the cracks in the walls.
That afternoon, as soon as we got in, I told the guys about Miss Unknown. Menzi immediately perked up — turns out he knew her too. He admitted he’d once had a crush on her, but Menzi was never the type to wait around for anyone. Miss Unknown, on the other hand, looked like the kind of girl who needed patience, someone willing to take their time. Menzi wasn’t built for that kind of slow burn.
Still, he approved of her. “She’s attractive,” he said casually, “and she’s got a personality you can’t fake.”
Hluma, on the other hand, was busy being… well, Hluma. He laughed and said, “Bro, you’ll never get anywhere with her. If you do, it’ll be after five years.” His words were half-teasing, half-serious, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t thinking about smashing or proving anything to anyone — all I wanted was to get close to her. That was my mission.
In emqashweni, we had our little system for keeping the place in order. That day, Hluma and I were on kitchen duty. Menzi and Lwando were in charge of cleaning the floors and washing the dishes. When it came to fetching water from the tap outside, we always went in pairs — a rule born out of both laziness and the simple fact that two hands made the job easier.
Charlie didn’t actually live with us, but he was a regular visitor. The youngest of the group, he’d pop in whenever he could, especially when we were stuck on schoolwork. He was a whiz at mathematics — our unofficial tutor, though we paid him in leftovers and bad jokes instead of money.
That night, as we went about our chores, I caught myself replaying that “Hi” in my head again. The way she’d looked at me. The weight of that first moment. And right then, I knew — Miss Unknown was going to be a chapter in my life I wouldn’t be able to skim past.