Babiki sat in the passenger
seat, staring straight ahead,
refusing to budge. I was outside the
car, pacing, stressed out. A friend of
mine had a bottle of brandy that
he’d smuggled into the dance.
“Here,” he said, “have some of this.”
Nothing mattered at that point, so I
started drinking. I’d fucked up. The
girl didn’t like me. The night was
done.
Most of the guys eventually
wandered back inside. I was sitting
on the pavement, taking swigs from
the brandy bottle, getting buzzed. At
some point Bongani went back over
to the car to try one last time to