Royal, but…

What’s new, what’s hot, y’all…

I’ve returned. According to the author, some of you were frustrated with how the story ended. I also heard that some of you were perplexed as to whether Thabile was “the girl”, you know…wink wink. Okay, jokes aside, today I’m going to try to tell you what you need to know without writing too much. Hopefully, this will calm your concerns and provide answers to your questions.

For those of you who may not have read part 1 of who I am, please kindly read Erica?! Prior to reading Royal, but… Let’s get started. Aytiee. I’m back to tell you about an experience from four years ago that reveals how difficult it was for me to embrace my sexuality.

Erica Royal is my name, and yes, I am bisexual. Because I grew up in several different areas, I am unable to tell you where I grew up. However, I can tell you that I am the only child and that I am 22 years old, studying for a Bachelor of Engineering Science in Digital Art at Wits University.

My mother and I moved to Groblersdal, a small town in Mpumalanga, around four years ago. I was in matric at the time, and I was attending Juliann Muller High School. I despised the school since most of the girls were bullies. I remember telling Thabile about it all the time, and she repeatedly reminded me to stand my ground and fight for myself. So, every time someone decided to be hateful for no reason, I listened and began telling it like it is. I had no idea that implementing Thabile’s advice would get me brownie points with Lisa.

Lisa Solo was the most stunning woman I had ever seen.  Trust me when I say that all girls are attractive, and I know that some of you may disagree. When it comes to Lisa, on the other hand, you’d battle me simply to get her to notice you. She was, after all, every guy’s fantasy, a calm lady who only talked when it was necessary. She smelled heavenly and had the finest skin imaginable. People called her ngwana wa le yellow bone, wa di koti marameng on the streets. To be honest, I’m not sure how I’d translate that without compromising the sentiment. Slenda! Mami was just the right amount of petite. Gosh darn, that lady was a walking angel, to say the least.

It was the way she carried herself that caught my attention. The gentleness in which she walked and the way she spoke quietly while gently enunciating each syllable. Knowing how women dislike one other, it was clear why so many girls discriminated on her only because of her beauty and intelligence. However, I found myself fighting for her against those girls. Whenever someone in class labeled her a slob, I would urge them to check themselves first before checking her. When someone called her boujee in the hallways of the school, I would urge them to look the word up because they were clearly misinterpreting it as an insult rather than a compliment. I did all those things without realizing I was protecting her, but she managed to pick up on it.

She once helped me walk to the sick bay after I was stung by a bee. Knowing how dramatic I am, I feared I was going to drop dead, and instead of thinking I was a drama queen, she graciously took my hand and said, “If you drop dead, who is going to love me like you do?” To be honest, I could not even read between the lines of what she was saying, so I assumed she merely wanted to be friends with me. We began hanging out together on that day, and she quickly became my second closest friend. I’m usually quite touchy after I’ve found comfort in someone, and it didn’t take me long to soothe her smooth tights. Unaware of what I was doing to her.

Everyone began to speculate that we were lovers, and we did act as if we were. In class, we always sat next to each other. When walking to the tuck shop, we always held hands. The innocents in me assumed we were just close friends, but the spirit in me sensed there was something more I was avoiding. I recall the first time I returned from a sleepover at her house one night. ‘God, I truly care about Lisa,’ I wrote in my diary, ‘I sometimes feel as if I want her around all the time, and I don’t believe that makes sense.’

I’m sorry, but the story must end right now. When it’s about to get blazing, I know. But don’t panic, si on, we’ll be back next week Sunday. Please take the time to like, comment, and share. If you haven’t already, please subscribe to ensure that you’re the first to know when I publish. This is the second episode, and the final episode will be published next week. There will be a live on Instagram on Monday at 9 p.m, just a reminder. I will read for you and respond to any questions you may have.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and have a wonderful Sunday afternoon.