She loves me . . . maybe not!

Short Story Thubelihle Wellington
NcubeI ALWAYS wished I could tell her . . . I kept hoping for the time when I would have become so famous in school in such a way that my ego was going to be my key to the answer. Did she love me? Was she just a friend? What was I supposed to do so as to know her inner thoughts? She rarely gave me attention.

She was the first to actually offer me a place as a new comer next to her desk. I was shy. I failed to even look up to her as she smiled, asking me who I was and where I came from. All these questions seemed too much on the first day. At least I managed to fool myself for a full year that she was not in love. At least we had just been friends, nothing more . . .

She stared at me as I wondered which word to say first because I do not know how to say it. For the past three years I had shared all my life experiences with her and I treasured her the most. What if I just tell her the truth? Was it really going to matter even if she denies my proposal? I had always been her tear catcher. I was the person who always provided the best advice to her. Sometimes I hated it, the way she would look at the other boys as she flicked her eyelashes. It dismantled my ego and made me feel less of a man. I had watched her sweep them off their feet but reject all their proposals.

I felt as a candle, only special when darkness seems to prevail. The inner me was talking and I kept responding. I thought she was listening though I could tell that her eagerness meant she had never seen me trembling with shock and fright.

“Come on man you can do it. You have the ability to actually get her if you want to.”

I could hear my already confused heart offering advice which seemed too impossible.

“Listen to your heart; this is the time which you need to take my advice my friend. The thing is simple, you have to follow your heart. I know a lot of times I’ve always led you astray but this time you need to listen. The girl you are looking at is in love with you. Have you ever seen the way she flashes her flirtatious eyelashes when she sees you? Have you ever wondered why she cried when she heard that you had collapsed on the sports day as you tried to prove to her that you really loved her yet she acted as if she didn’t notice? Maybe it’s because you were unconscious but I wasn’t.

Do you ever wonder why she advised you to be baptised then three weeks down the line she said she wants to marry a devout Christian?”

I felt confused. I had never really trusted my heart but it seemed true. I wished I could believe it because it gave me comfort. She had been too good and the fact that we had finished our O-levels told me I had to act. I was not worried about the last Maths paper because she had taught me and her teaching skills were better than those of our Maths teacher.

She broadens her smile and my heart leaps in joy.

“See I told you. Men of stamina are wanted. You are going to be a man soon and will you fail to make quick decisions? Listen to me, take her hand and don’t shift your eyes from your goal. Tell her before she loses patience. You have just wasted three minutes and she is now wondering . . .”

“Yvette, do you still remember what I told you when we started writing these exams? We are parting, maybe never to meet again. Today I’m going into this knowing what I’ll find. This time I’ve decided to follow my mind and abandon my heart. If there be pain, let it be. For at least I know that I did my best. I learnt a lot and as for you I’ll never forget you.”

She jumped to hug me and for the last time gave me one long lasting hug. I could feel her heartbeat on my chest. She could not let go. I fely some watery liquid flowing down my neck, she was now crying. I grudgingly let her go.

“Don’t worry Ramon we will meet soon. I wish you the best in life.”

I hauled my black trunk towards my father’s car. I just jumped inside and he took off.

The next day there was a knock at our gate. Two police officials entered and removed their hats as they greeted us. They asked my father who Ramon Adrian Millin was. I struggled to stand wondering what I could have done.

“Do you know a person by the name Yvette Rose Adams?” I nodded in agreement. They produced a booklet which she had used for the last time.

“She was writing you a letter and then their car plunged into a pool. We are sorry to say we lost her today in the morning. She requested that we give you this.”

They handed me the book. As I opened it I stumbled on the biography. I was classified as a boyfriend to be. When I turned the flimsy pages I stumbled on the letter;

“For how long should I wait for you my love? I wish I could tell you but because of our morals I can’t. I could see you wanted to tell me that you feel the same but you failed.”

I grew weak then all was bleak and black. I mourned but there was nothing I could do.