Chapter 3

"Let me see your outfit," my mother said as I held the phone up to my face to look at hers. I smiled as I walked to the bright side of the filled room with University art students who were rushing to get done. 

I showed her my outfit and I saw her smile, "you look so beautiful, baby," she complimented and I smiled. 

"Thank you, mummy." 

"Now, go put some make up on and take lo-" 

"Girls!" My professor, Mevrou (pronounce v as f) Schoeman shouted over all the noise of the girls running around and trying to get ready these last few minutes, "can you all hurry up, asseblief (please)! Come on!" She clapped her hands, rushing everyone, "come on, now, ladies!" 

I looked at my mother and waved at her, "bye, mummy!" I said with a smile, "I love you," I blew a kiss at her and she blew one right back at me as I ended the video call and then looked at Mevrou Schoeman who smiled at me. 

"You're looking beautiful, Sarafina," she said and I smiled, "as always." 

"Thank you, Mevrou," I said to her as I walked past her and to my best friend, Sihle who was brushing her hair, "asambe (let's go)," I said to her and she nodded as she looked at me.

"You're looking nice," she said blankly and I rolled my eyes. 

"Whatever, sour Betty, you're looking beautiful as well, let's go." 

Sihle was always sarcastic and mean, the bland one who laughed at mean jokes and didn't understand why I was always smiling and thinking positively. We haven't been best friends for a long time but she's been there for me when I was going through depression and I was there for her when she was facing challenges and homeless for some years. 

To many people, she's a heartless cold bitch, but to me, there's no one who's kinder than her. 

We balance each other out, we're opposites in almost every way. She parties a lot, and I stay home all weekend, she smokes and drinks and I'm there to fetch her when she calls me at 1 or 2 in the morning. She's cold and mean, and I'm kind and gentle. She's a dancer and I play the violin. She's a singer, and I paint. She enjoys listening to deep House and I can spend my entire life listening to The Soil, Freshlyground, Shekinah and Timo ODV. 

She held my hand in hers as we walked outside the hotel we were going to be spending the night at and walked to the buses that were parked, waiting for us and many other students from other schools all over the world. 

The place was abuzz, even the streets seemed excited. Well, as excited as the English can be. They were walking around with straight faces and no smiles. 

Each person to their own but I didn't dwell on it too much because Sihle was pulling me onto the bus and I followed. Knowing that we needed to get good seats where we can sit together. 

"La (here)," she said as she stopped and sat down by the window and I frowned. "You can sit here when we come back," she told me and I sat down in the aisle seat, not very happy about it but just agreeing because I wasn't in the mood to fight. 

"Can you believe it?" I asked her as I looked outside the window with her, "we're in London," I said with a wide smile and she just shrugged as she looked outside the window. 

"What's so special about this place?" 

"I mean-" 

"The buildings? The people? The buses? Same old shit to me," she looked out the window, "these places are overrated." 

I sat back in my seat, frowning at her disinterest. 

She looked at me, her eyes looking my face over and she reached out with her hand before she smoothed a finger over my eyebrow, "same old shit, just a different continent." 

~~~