Run away bride: should I trust him?

Chapter 13:RUN AWAY BRIDE-(PRINCESS REVENGE??)

This guy can't stop praising himself. Apparently he's the 'saviour' in my story.

We hadn't even left the school gate and Lieutenant Nkosi started.

"So, you see, if I wasn't at Gate 3 that day, where would you be? Probably still in that toilet queue," he said, eyes on the road, hands big on the steering wheel.

I looked out the window. "If you weren't rude at Gate 3 that day, I wouldn't have been scared to ask you where the toilet was earlier. So it's your fault I was late."

"My fault? I was doing my job. Presidential protocol. No movement during speech."

"Protocol says be rude to girls who need toilet?"

He laughed. "Protocol says shine boots so girls can pour water on them."

I gasped. "I said sorry for that!"

"You never said sorry. You ran."

"I was going to pee!"

We were at a robot now. He turned to look at me. He had taken off his sunglasses. His eyes were brown, serious but teasing.

"Milondo, be honest. If I didn't come that day, Arjun—"

"Don't say his name in this car!" I cut him.

"Okay, okay. If that... thug... took you, what would have happened? You should thank me properly."

I never noticed how much this guy can talk and how much we can fight. All I know is I was angry with him when we finally arrived at Dube.

It was a 7-minute drive but it felt like 70 minutes of debating. About toilets, about boots, about who saved who. He said he saved me, I said I saved myself by kicking and screaming. He said his broad shoulders saved me, I said my scream saved me.

By the time he parked outside Bra Solly's house, I was properly annoyed. My cheeks were hot, not from blush, from argument.

"Thanks for the lift, Lieutenant Saviour," I said, opening the door hard.

"Anytime, Princess of the Toilets," he said back.

I slammed the door. Well, tried to slam. Army bakkies don't slam loud.

Ma Dineo was already at the gate. She must have been watching from the window.

She was a bit too excited when she saw me coming out of lieutenant's car. Her eyes went wide, then she smiled that smile — the mother-who-is-planning-a-wedding smile.

"Ah! Milondo! Lieutenant! You came!" she shouted, as if Nkosi was arriving for lobola negotiations.

Woman even asked him to join us for dinner!!. She knows I'd be annoyed. But who cares right?

"Lieutenant, you brought my daughter! Come, come inside, it's about to rain, you must eat with us!" Ma Dineo said, grabbing Nkosi's arm before he could even say no.

"It's about to rain ma" he'd replied but nobody refuses Ma Dineo. When Ma Dineo says eat, even soldiers eat.

Poor guy was forced to come in. He looked at me for help, but I shrugged. "You wanted to be saviour, now you must eat saviour food."

We all went inside. Bra Solly was already home, surprised to see Nkosi in his living room again.

"Lieutenant! You are back!" Bra Solly said, standing up respectfully.

"Bra Solly, he gave me a lift because it was raining," I said quickly, so they don't think other things.

"It is going to rain, yes," Nkosi said, awkwardly holding his beret.

Ma Dineo had already dished up. Pap, chicken stew, and morogo. The smell was so good.

We sat — Bra Solly and Nkosi on the couch, me and Ma Dineo on the floor mats, the small table in the middle. The rain started outside, hitting the zinc roof loud.

Well things were going well until Ma Dineo asked me to serve this guy dinner. I 'mistakenly' stepped on his toes.

"Milondo, serve Lieutenant, he is our guest," Ma Dineo said.

I stood up with the plate. I was still angry about the 'saviour' talk. I walked past Nkosi and — oops — my foot, with my old school shoe, landed right on his shiny boot. Hard.

He didn't shout. He just sucked in air through his teeth.

"Ah! Sorry! Mistakenly!" I said, with the most innocent face I could make.

Ma Dineo looked horrified. "Milondo!"

Bra Solly coughed to hide a laugh.

Nkosi looked down at his boot, then up at me, then he understood. I was revenging the toilet rudeness.

"You... you did that on purpose," he whispered so only I could hear.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Lieutenant Saviour," I whispered back, putting his plate down.

He took the plate. "Thank you, Princess of Revenge."

We ate. Ma Dineo kept asking Nkosi questions — "How old are you? 27? Ah good age! Do you have girlfriend? No? Ah!" — and Bra Solly kept nodding.

I kept kicking — sorry, mistakenly stepping — on Nkosi's boot under the table every time he said something praising himself.

He kept moving his foot away, but the table is small.

At one point, he tried to move his boot and knocked over his water glass. Water spilled on the floor.

Ma Dineo shouted, "Milondo! Clean!"

I cleaned, trying not to laugh.

When dinner finished, the rain was still heavy. Nkosi stood to leave.

"Thank you for dinner, Ma Dineo, Bra Solly. It was delicious," he said politely.

He looked at me. "And thank you for the... foot massage, Milondo."

I blushed. "You are welcome. Anytime you want to be rude again, come for foot massage."

He laughed that deep laugh again and put on his beret.

At the door, Ma Dineo whispered loudly to me, "He is a good man, this one. Disciplined. Meadowlands boy. You must keep him."

"MMA!"

Nkosi heard it. He pretended not to hear it, but his ears turned red.

He walked out into the rain to his bakkie, his big boots now with my shoe print on them.

I watched from the door until his lights disappeared.

Bra Solly came behind me. "My daughter, you like him, hey?"

"I don't! He is rude and he talks too much!"

Ma Dineo laughed. "Yes, yes. And you fight like husband and wife already."

I went to my room, closed the door, and opened my maths book. But I couldn't focus. I kept thinking about the argument in the car, the foot stepping, the way he said "Princess of Revenge."

Maybe rude soldiers are not so bad after all. Maybe some rude soldiers are just... lonely and like to talk.

Outside, the rain kept hitting the roof, and somewhere in Meadowlands, a soldier was probably trying to clean a shoe print off his shiny boot.