Elite High

Chapter 2

New job. New school. It would fool you into thinking you have a new life, but facts still remained. I was nothing more than a maid who lives in a three-room house in Alexandra. Elite High’s uniform masks that to all but one person, who I am sure is going to make my life a living hell. Hungani Ndlovu.

I was surprised to find out that I hadn’t lost my job when I reached the residence. My heart was thumping out of my chest as I maneuvered around the house, being weary not to come into contact with any of the Ndlovu’s. I would bet that Hungani was avoiding me like the plague, while his father was as busy as he tends to be. It’s not easy running a multi-million-rand logistic company it seems.

This was until dinner time, where the duo always come down to have the meal I prepared. To my surprise, nothing happened even during dinner. No remark directed towards me, unless it was to give an instruction. This brought me relief because it showed that as bratty as the Ndlovu heir is, at least he is not a snitch. I don’t know what would become of me if Mr. Ndlovu learned about this information. Judging by his son’s reaction, I don’t think he’d be eager to learn about such.

“Are you alright Hungani? You have barely touched your food.” Mr. Ndlovu questions, as Hungani sits on the other end of the dining table, pushing food around his plate like a grumpy toddler.

“I’m fine father. I just don’t have appetite tonight,” he says shooting a glare up at me from across the hall. I fix my gaze back to the ground.

I hear the metal chair screeching against the marble floor, “So I think I’ll just have an early night.”

If he doesn’t tell him, his behavior definitely will.

The rest of the week went by just like this. Navigating around the school required me to look at the map that is provided on the school site every passing minute. Elite High is a huge, well-preserved historic building, with trimmed hedges, oak trees at almost every corner and a variation of rose bushes scattered across its grounds. The grass seems as if it’s mowed every day, with sprinklers being turned on every morning to ensure that it stays a beautiful green colour.

It is even stated in its background that the building used to be a Catholic church before it was turned and then expanded into a school. It has several wings, while the main building, which I’m assuming was the church, stood front and center directly ahead of the majestic gate.

It also doesn’t help that my classes are scattered across all of these wings, which means I have to walk at least five minutes from one building to another then search for said class. Choosing a sport and extramural activity also posed a challenge because I had to google almost half of the activities offered. The list is a page long. The two being compulsory meant that I couldn’t spend too long thinking of a decision – so I went with art as an extra mural activity and track and field as a sport.

Of course, I didn’t have the slightest clue about Track and field, but it seemed relatively better than the others.

Apparently, this week was supposed to be a walk in the park for me. I wasn’t supposed to receive the awkward stares and glares that I received as I scrambled through the corridors, trying to make my way from one class to another. Arriving late to a certain class, drenched in sweat because I didn’t think the Roman numeral next to the class on the timetable meant the floors of the building – so I went to room 344 on the first floor instead of the third floor.

It wasn’t until Wednesday in Advanced Mathematics class that Ms. Rowan called me after class to talk to me. Amongst my teachers, she looks the youngest and the friendliest judging by the way she approached me.

“How are you doing dear?” She asked, looking concerned but still smiling nonetheless.

“I’m doing well miss,” I answered coyly, not knowing why she would ask that. I then just figured that it might be part of the procedure when these types of interactions occur.

“Are you sure about that? Because you’ve arrived late to my class, so I thought something might have held you up.” She was the first teacher to raise my late arrival, so I panicked. But then I recollected myself, seeing that the worst that could happen would be getting taken to the principal’s office.

“I am still not quite familiar with the layout of the school. And the timetable can get quite confusing at times.”

“Has no one explained to you how things work? The Head Boy should be your chaperone.”

He should’ve accompanied me to every class this week, helped me choose a sport and acquainted me with a circle so that I don’t walk around like a loner.

Ms. Rowan seemed to understand my confusion regarding the matter, and simply let it go after telling me to visit the principal’s office and have a talk with her regarding the situation I’m currently facing. I thanked her and left the room, feeling conflicted.

On one hand, I knew exactly why the Head Boy didn’t even bother assisting me around the school – he didn’t want to see my face. On the other hand, I didn’t understand even understand why he didn’t want to see my face. Or even make my life simpler? What does my suffering gain him? The universe’s greatest mystery.

However, I value my job very much so I will not dare question his antics. It’s a surprise that he hasn’t even told his father – or even how his father will respond.