MISREAD

chapter 2

MISREAD

CHAPTER TWO

By late afternoon, we had somehow reached an agreement that we would share groceries.

It sounded like a reasonable idea at the time.

Tsholi had brought some food, but apparently not everything she needed. I hadn't done my own grocery shopping either, so we decided to go to the shops together and get everything.

"At least we'll buy things together," Tsholi suggested. "It'll be easier than having separate groceries."

I nodded.

"That's fine."

"Then we can just contribute equally."

"Okay."

And that was how I found myself getting ready to go grocery shopping with someone I had met that very morning.

We walked to the shops together, with Tsholi talking almost the entire way.

When we arrived, she grabbed a trolley.

"Okay, let's start with the basics."

We picked up a few necessities: cooking oil, rice, sugar, salt and some other household items.

Things were going well until we reached the snacks aisle.

Tsholi seemed to come alive.

"Zuri, do you like these?"

She held up a packet of biscuits.

"Not really."

"What? You don't eat biscuits?"

"Sometimes."

She shrugged and dropped them into the trolley.

Then came crisps, chocolates, sweets and a couple of drinks.

I watched her add one thing after another.

At first, I said nothing. I assumed we were just picking up a few treats.

But the snacks kept coming.

I glanced at the trolley and mentally calculated what we had already spent. We still had quite a few necessities to buy, and I was becoming uncomfortable with how quickly the cost was adding up.

"Tsholi?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't you think we should get the food first?"

She turned towards me.

"We are getting food."

"I mean proper groceries. Things we'll actually cook. We still have quite a few things to buy."

She looked at the trolley.

"Oh, we'll get those too."

I hesitated.

"I just don't want us to spend too much on snacks. My allowance has to last, you know."

She looked at me, almost amused.

"Girl, you're just too strict with money. You should live a little!"

I gave her a small smile.

She continued.

"My mom always says we don't have to be so uptight about money. We have to buy treats and spoil ourselves sometimes. We can't always be eating healthy food and being strict about everything."

I looked at her for a moment.

Perhaps she had a point.

I had always been careful with money. I liked planning things, knowing what I needed and making sure I had enough to last until the next allowance.

Growing up, I had always been expected to be the mature one. The understanding one. The one who knew better, who could sacrifice a little, who didn't need much.

Sometimes I wondered whether I had become so accustomed to being responsible that I had forgotten how to enjoy being young.

Maybe I was too strict with myself.

Maybe I needed to loosen up.

"Okay, fine," I said, reaching for a packet of biscuits. "We can get a few treats."

Tsholi grinned.

"See! That's what I'm talking about."

I laughed.

For once, I decided not to overthink every little purchase.

We continued shopping, and I even suggested a few things of my own. Tsholi seemed pleased that I was finally participating instead of silently calculating every item in the trolley.

At that moment, I genuinely thought it was harmless.

We were two college girls buying groceries. We deserved to enjoy ourselves a little.

What I hadn't considered was that enjoying life and being careless with money were two entirely different things.

A week passed, and surprisingly, things weren't as bad as I had imagined.

We had settled into sharing groceries, and neither of us seemed to have a problem with the arrangement. There were no arguments, no awkward confrontations and, thankfully, no dramatic roommate moments.

Well, apart from one thing.

Tsholi was a loud mouth.

She could talk about absolutely anything and everything. Sometimes I'd be busy doing something, and she'd start telling me a story as though she'd been waiting all day for an audience.

And strangely enough, I didn't mind.

I actually found myself enjoying her talks. She had a way of making even the most ordinary things sound interesting. There were moments when I'd catch myself laughing at something she'd said, even when I hadn't intended to join the conversation.

For someone who enjoyed silence as much as I did, I was beginning to appreciate having a little noise around.

However, I soon noticed a few things about my new roommate.

First, this girl did not know how to make a bed properly. Her blankets would be all over the place, and sometimes she'd leave her bed looking as though she'd just fought with it.

Then there was the sweeping.

She didn't seem particularly interested in it.

Washing dishes? That was another story entirely.

I would sometimes find dishes sitting in the sink long after we'd finished eating.

But honestly, I didn't make much of it.

I was naturally a clean and organised person. I liked my surroundings neat, and I couldn't comfortably sit around knowing there were dishes waiting to be washed or a floor that needed sweeping.

So I usually just did the chores myself.

Tsholi, on the other hand, loved cooking.

She could spend a good amount of time in the kitchen preparing something, and I quickly realised that cooking was one household responsibility she didn't mind taking on.

It worked out quite conveniently.

She cooked, and I cleaned up afterwards. I'd wash the dishes, sweep the floor and make sure everything was back in order.

At the time, I genuinely didn't see it as a problem.

We were getting along, she was good company, and I didn't feel the need to turn every little difference into an argument.

Besides, I had always been someone who preferred doing things myself rather than complaining about them.

And for that first week, that arrangement worked just fine.

There was, however, one thing I hadn't quite figured out how to deal with.

Sometimes, when I was doing the chores, I'd find myself expecting Tsholi to notice.

For instance, I'd be making the beds, and a small part of me would expect her to look over and say, "Oh, you're making the bed? Let me sweep the floor."

But she rarely did.

She would wake up, go through her morning routine and get ready to leave. Sometimes she'd spend most of the day with her boyfriend, and I wouldn't see her until later.

I didn't have a problem with her going out. She had her own life, her own friends and someone she wanted to spend time with. I wasn't jealous of that.

What bothered me was what she left behind.

Tsholi loved cooking, but she wasn't particularly fond of cleaning up afterwards. She'd prepare a meal, eat, leave the dishes in the sink and head out to do her own thing.

And there I would be, staring at the dishes.

I could leave them there, of course. But knowing they were sitting in the sink would bother me. Eventually, I'd give in and wash them.

Sometimes I wished she'd come back, notice what needed to be done and simply help without me having to ask.

I didn't want to keep reminding another adult to clean up after herself. I thought sharing a room meant sharing responsibilities too.

But I also wasn't very good at expressing these things.

So I kept quiet.

At first, it was just a little irritation. Nothing serious enough to cause an argument.

But little things have a way of becoming bigger when they're repeated.

And without either of us realising it, the arrangement that had seemed to work so well during our first week was beginning to change.