In the corridor outside the dressing rooms Ntombi bumped into Alex.
“Good luck, Ntombi,” he said softly. “And if I don’t win, my next choice would be you! I’m serious.”
Ntombi tried to smile. “Who else have you told that to?”
“Ouch,” said Alex. “I’m not that bad, am I? Really, I’m sorry, girl. You still have a place in my heart.”
“I feel sorry for your girlfriend,” Ntombi replied. But when he stretched out his hand, she took it.
“Peace?” he asked.
“Peace,” she replied. And then she had to go inside, the stylists were calling her to hurry up, if she was to get done in time.
The twins had taken over a huge section of the dressing room and their bouquets of flowers were making everyone sneeze. The organisers had already had to chase out the private coaches and hairstylists their father had sent. A big man in a pin-striped suit came barging in. It was the twins’ father. Some girls were half-dressed and screeched at the intrusion. However, he had no eyes for them – he went straight over to the twins and started talking to them urgently, waving his fat hands, until an organiser came to usher him out.
The boys were in a separate dressing room. The next time the girls saw them would be on stage in front of thousands of people. This was so much bigger than the regional finals in the school hall. There were press representatives and photographers and talent scouts. At the regionals Ntombi knew half the people in the hall – her community had come out to support her. But this was different. There were a whole lot of strangers out there and they didn’t care about her. All they wanted to hear was her voice. She suddenly panicked – was she under-dressed? Some of the girls looked like it was their wedding day.
“That’s part of what makes you stand out,” said Mahlodi, who was also wearing a very simple dress and black pumps on her feet.
And then a face peered around the door, nervously. It was Zinzi.
“Hey, only contestants allowed in here,” said an organiser.
“Please, it’s just my little sister,” said Ntombi. “Come in, Zinzi.”
Her sister was holding a parcel and a small bunch of flowers she had picked.
“I wanted to give you these,” she said. “The parcel is from Dad, the flowers are from me.”
“Thanks, sisi.” Ntombi gave her a hug.
Zinzi hovered around. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered, and looked at Mahlodi, who nodded.
“What is it? I haven’t got much time. We’re on in 20 minutes.”
“Say you’ll forgive me?” said Zinzi.
“What is it? What have you done?” But she had guessed already; she had suspected for a long time.
“It’s … well, you know when I phoned you and said Olwethu had a girlfriend?”
“Yes …”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly his girlfriend.”
Ntombi waited.
“It was his cousin.”
“You lied to me, Zinzi.” Ntombi said slowly.
Zinzi looked at her feet. “I … I was jealous, I guess … jealous that you were in this competition. That you were in Jozi and I wasn’t.”
“Olwethu must think I’m a bitch,” said Ntombi. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that I heard you with another boy and there was music.”
“You told him that I had a new boyfriend?”
“Not exactly.”
Ntombi thought of the messages she had deleted, the times she hadn’t called him. What would he think? The silence would mean only one thing to him – that she was guilty, that she was with her new boyfriend.
And then she thought of something worse. He wouldn’t love her any more after this. Maybe it was too late. Maybe she had driven him away and he was with another girl. Why not? Who would want to go out with someone who at the first opportunity started chasing another boy? That’s why he had stopped phoning her, why he had put the phone down on her call.
“You have to phone Olwethu,” Ntombi said urgently. “You have to phone him now and explain everything.”
“What if he’s angry with me?”
“Zinzi, of course he’ll be angry with you. But you have to take responsibility and do this, or you’ll never forgive yourself.”
Just then the coach came in to tell them it was ten minutes until they had to go on stage. First they were singing a song as a group, then performing their solos and finally their duets.
“You have to go, Zinzi.”
Zinzi gave her sister a hug. She was crying. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I really am.”
“You shouldn’t be jealous of me,” Ntombi said. “Mahlodi says she has never met anyone so young who is such a fast learner at soccer. She thinks you have a real future.”
“She does?” Zinzi’s eyes lit up.
“I really do,” said Mahlodi from the next chair in front of the long mirror.
“Good luck,” said Zinzi. “We’ll be the ones with the big placard saying ‘GO, NTOMBI!’.”
“Oh no,” said Ntombi. “That’s all I need.”
Five minutes, the coach said. Just enough time.
She had to try phoning Olwethu herself. She dialled the number with trembling fingers.
“The subscriber you have dialled is not available. Please try again later.”
“It’s time!” shouted an organiser.
They walked onto the stage with their heads held high, looking more confident than they felt inside.
Chapter 20
The lights were dazzling – Ntombi couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t hear anything either as her heart was pounding too loudly. She must have stood like a rabbit in the headlights for a moment, until Alex took her hand and led her on with the rest of the contestants. The light bulbs flashed as the presenter introduced them. Their faces came up on a big screen. There, larger than life, was Ntombi – “our lovely Cape Town contestant – give her a round of applause …”
There was a scream from the audience. It could only be Zinzi, Ntombi thought and then through the lights she saw the banner waving.
She could just make out someone else standing next to her mom – it looked like a guy – but then the lights dazzled her again.
They sang the group song Right Now to wild cheers from the audience, each contestant singing a different verse of the lyrics. People were watching this on their TVs all over the country. A million viewers! The panel of judges sat in front of the stage.
Then it was time for the solos. There was a hush in the audience as Ntombi stepped forward to the microphone. At first it was terrifying, knowing that beyond the lights there were people and cameras everywhere. But as she sang her first notes she forgot everything. Everything, that is, apart from one special wish – that the song would express a love she could believe in, something deep and lasting.
When she had finished there was a moment’s silence. Then the crowd went wild, shouting and clapping.
In a daze she watched the others from the wings. Mahlodi sang beautifully, but you could feel somehow that her heart was elsewhere. The crowd could sense it too, as their clapping seemed polite, not as wholehearted as it had been for Ntombi.
Next came the twins. They had been allowed to compete as one contestant, and they looked like robots as they smiled, danced and sang together. Wild cheering came from a corner of the audience, but otherwise they did not receive huge applause.
She was about to watch Katrina when one of the backstage staff shooed her away. “Go and get ready for the duets,” he hissed. The duet with Alex! How would she manage? Could they pull it off after everything that had happened, and would it be as good as that first time they had sung together?
“Hold hands,” said the organiser as he pushed them into the light. The crowd cheered to see one of their favourites back
on stage. And then the familiar music began. Ntombi closed her eyes as their voices interwove. But it was not the same. The magic had disappeared. They sang brilliantly, beautifully. They even managed to smile at each other, but the passion had gone. They were merely performers.
There wasn’t the same stunned silence that she had noticed after her solo, but still the crowd cheered enthusiastically. She and Alex bowed and waved, and as the lights roved across the audience, she tried again to see who was with her mother and Zinzi.
For a moment before she was ushered back to her dressing room she listened to Andile and Katrina singing their duet. She had never heard them practise together, and she was amazed. The rapper had a pure tenor voice that expressed a yearning and beauty she hadn’t heard in his angry rap solo. Now his voice was climbing, falling, dancing with Katrina’s alto. They were brilliant! There was no way she could win, she told herself.
Finally it was nearly over. All the contestants were called back on-stage to wait for the results. The cameras lingered on each nervous face as everyone waited for the judges’ announcement.
A beautiful woman in a long red dress came to the microphone with a piece of paper. Ntombi could barely hear what she was saying. All she was waiting for was the name of the contestant awarded first place.
“Third place goes to Katrina Abrahams.”
The crowd roared.
“Second place to … Ntombi Gasa.”
Ntombi felt a surge of disappointment. She struggled to hold her smile for the cameras and searched the crowd for a familiar face, trying to see how her mother and Zinzi were taking it. Were they disappointed? Or happy that she had come in the top three? There were her mom and Zinzi waving like mad. And who was that beside them, standing and clapping? Surely it couldn’t be … No!
But it was. She would never mistake that face! Olwethu blew her a kiss. He had come all the way to see her.
Just like last time, he remained standing, clapping loudly, until everyone else had sat down. Soon everyone was looking at him and telling him to shut up because they were waiting to hear who came first.
Ntombi’s heart was overflowing with happiness. She had come second, but Olwethu was here. He loved her still.
“And, finally, our winner in the Teen Voice Competition of South Africa is …” The woman paused, and the hall went dead quiet. “Andile Mpuru!”
He deserved it, thought Ntombi. He was brilliant. And he really needed the money. Now his brother could go to school. The cameras had already found his supporters. They were hoisting a young boy onto their shoulders, a young boy who was waving at the winner who was waving back at him.
And then the lights moved to where her supporters were standing. There was Olwethu again, up on the big screen, blowing kisses to her. She had come second, but this was the best prize she could have imagined.
Chapter 21
It was all over. Olwethu had got on the bus already as he had to be back at work on Monday. They’d had little time together, but it was enough for him to tell her how glad he was that he had decided to come to Jozi in spite of his doubts and fears. “Ntombi, somehow when you sang your song, I knew that everything would be right between us,” he’d said, holding her tight. She had not told him about Alex. But she would when she got home, she promised herself. She was tired of deception and lies.
Yes, it was all over, but so many things were just beginning. Her friendship with Mahlodi would be a lasting one, thought Ntombi, as she hugged her goodbye. “I can’t believe we met two weeks ago, Mahlodi. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Alex came up and put his arm around her shoulders and told her he would watch out for her name on the charts. Next to him was a pretty young white girl hanging on his arm and looking at Ntombi suspiciously. Ntombi hoped he had learned his lesson. She knew that she had. Olwethu had nothing to worry about now.
At last she was on the bus – no longer a star, but going back to school, to chores, to facing her father. At least there would be Olwethu. And she would be different now. She may have been jealous in Jozi, but she had also learned so many lessons. Not only lessons about what was important in other people, but, above all, lessons about what was important in herself.
With a boy like Olwethu by her side, she knew she had regained true love. She was never going to allow herself to be jealous again.
The End
Copyright © Cover2Cover 2011
ISBN 978-0-620-50943-5
e-ISBN 978-0-992-20171-5
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher, except in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act, Act 98 of 1978.
Cover design: Robin Taylor
Cover model: Nosipho Ntizi
Editing: Sandra Dodson & Sean Fraser
Cover2Cover is an exciting publisher producing novels for African teens. If you enjoyed Jealous in Jozi, look out for other titles in the Harmony High series:
Broken Promises
From boys to men
Sugar Daddy
Too young to die
Two-faced friends
Find out more about Cover2Cover at: www.cover2cover.co.za or by email: [email protected]
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