Knock Knock
1051 Words
It was just past midnight when Nomadlozi’s stomach finally threw in the towel.
She shuffled to the kitchen in her fuzzy onesie and fluffy socks, quietly cursing the tiny dinner Lily had let her have.
Her mother always watched her plate like a prison warden, dishing up like she was counting calories for some invisible pageant.
But this was normal.
It never got to her anymore—not really. She’d learned to eat around Lily. Literally.
After fixing herself a toasted sandwich and downing a glass of juice, she climbed the stairs with the lazy rhythm of someone full and slightly annoyed.
The balcony doors creaked open. She stepped outside, lit a cigarette, and sat back in her chair, letting the night air slap gently against her face.
This was her peace. Her time. Her ritual.
Eyes closed, she exhaled a slow stream of smoke and smiled slightly at the familiar burn in her chest.
The wind blew her frontal wig back just enough to give her a slight chill.
“You still smoke?” a voice yelled from next door.
Her eyes flew open.
She froze, then rolled her eyes.
Of course. Him.
“Ah wena,” Adam called again. “I’m going to tell on you!”
“Adam, get a life and stop trying to live in mine,” she muttered back, not even bothering to look in his direction.
She flicked the ash into the flowerpot that had long turned into an accidental ashtray.
“Eish, what's with the attitude?”
His voice was closer now. Curious. Teasing.
She stood and walked over to the edge of her balcony, now facing him properly. He was leaning against the rail in a plain white tee and sweatpants like some lazy Greek god next door.
“You gonna wake everyone up,” she scolded.
“We’re not in high school anymore.”
Adam grinned. “Then come down. For old time’s sake.”
Nomadlozi raised a brow.
Not tonight. Not with him.
“I’ll bring ice cream,” he added, knowing exactly where to jab her weakness.
She hesitated, dragging one last puff from her cigarette.
Ugh.
With a heavy sigh and a small, defeated nod, she disappeared back inside.
He’s just my friend. It’ll be fine.
---
She was tiptoeing toward the garden gate when suddenly—
“BOOM!”
“Yoh!”
Nomadlozi jumped out of her skin, her heart practically choking her.
“You absolute rascal!”
She shoved him in the chest with both hands as soon as she realized who it was. Adam burst out laughing, holding his stomach.
“You should’ve seen your face. You looked like a chicken seeing a knife.”
“You look like a chicken,” she mumbled, cheeks hot.
Adam looked her up and down. Her hooded onesie, slightly oversized, made her look like a lost cartoon character. A very cute one.
“Knock knock,” he said suddenly.
She blinked. “Who’s there?”
“Kiss.”
He smirked.
“Kiss who?” she asked slowly.
“Kiss me.”
He took a step forward, and with a gentle hand, adjusted the floppy hood of her onesie over her head. Their eyes locked.
Too long.
Too close.
Nomadlozi blinked and smacked his hand away, trying to take a step back, but Adam reached for her waist and pulled her gently against him.
For a second, she didn’t breathe.
His body was warm. Familiar. Comforting.
“You good?” he whispered against her forehead. “I missed you, Dlo.”
Her heart twitched.
The way he said her name... like it still belonged to him.
She cleared her throat and pointed at the tub in his hand.
“Mhh, you got the ice cream.” Her voice came out lighter than she expected.
“Yeah.” He grinned. “I’m still your ice cream buddy, right?”
She smiled shyly and nodded, head bobbing like a chicken pecking mealies.
---
Adam led her by the hand to the swings under the big fig tree.
Nomadlozi giggled quietly—this was so high school.
She sat down and scooped some ice cream into her mouth, wincing at the cold, but also loving it.
It felt good to be next to him. Like nothing bad ever happened.
They sat for a while in silence, feet brushing the dirt. The night sky stretched above them, black velvet with stars.
“So... are you ready for the wedding?” she asked casually, licking her spoon.
Adam’s face dropped.
“What?”
His eyes darted to her.
Nomadlozi blinked.
“Adam?”
He was silent, clearly caught off guard.
“Y-yeah... congratulations,” he muttered.
She tilted her head.
“Congratulations? But... you’re the one getting married.”
Adam’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
Wait a minute...
Her eyes widened.
“You didn’t know?” she whispered to herself.
Panic crawled up her neck.
She stood suddenly.
“Okay! Um—I’m cold. Gonna go inside now. Bye!”
She bolted toward the house.
“Nomadlozi—”
Too late. She was gone.
Adam sat there, completely dumbfounded. His heart felt like it had been dropped into a bucket of ice.
She was getting married?
To who?
He reached for his phone and dialed the only person who might give it to him straight.
“Dade,” he said when she answered.
“Bhuti... do you know what time it is? You’re not overseas anymore—cut me some slack!” Duduzile groaned.
Adam laughed.
“Sorry. I missed your angry voice.”
“Whatever. What do you want?”
“Who’s Noma getting married to?”
There was a pause.
“How would I know?”
“Aren’t you friends with his little brother?”
“And aren’t you friends with her? Ask her yourself.”
Adam exhaled.
He didn’t want to raise suspicions. He just wanted to know who the hell he was supposed to be losing her to.
“Okay, okay. I’ll ask Shaka for you in the morning. Sharp?” She hung up.
Adam looked down at the half-melted tub of ice cream.
He sighed, closed it, and walked back inside.
Tonight had gone from sweet to sour faster than he could say “kiss me.”
- Writer
