Chapter Seven: Bubblegum and Butterflies by Lynette Ferreira
Mr. Du Plessis called for the student’s attention and announced,
“This Friday night we will be serving at the soup kitchen in the community
hall. I expect all of you to participate.” He turned to the side a little and
faced the projected image on the wall. He clicked a button, and lists of names
appeared in neat columns.
Charlize’s stomach dropped.
Across the room, Daniel leaned back in his chair, a lopsided
grin tugging at his lips. “Guess we’re partners, princess,” he drawled, earning
a few chuckles from nearby students.
Charlize shot him a glare but said nothing. Complaining to Mr. Du Plessis would only make things worse.
Mrs. Naidoo handed out instructions, while Mr. Du Plessis
continued, “Although it isn’t strictly required, having extracurriculars and
doing community service really helps your college applications by showing that you
are well rounded, active, and have interests beyond the academic.”
They were dismissed and as the students gathered their
things, Charlize groaned internally.
Daniel was sauntering over to her. “So,” he said, “How do
you want to do this?”
“Efficiently,” she replied, her tone clipped. “We divide
tasks and minimize time spent together.”
Daniel smirked. “Fine by me. I’ll see you in the library
this afternoon. You bring the brains, and I’ll bring the charm.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched to form a smile
despite herself. “Just don’t be late.”
*
When Charlize entered the library that afternoon, Daniel was
already there. His skateboard was leaning against the leg of the table, as
always. He was hunched over a sketchpad, and his pencil was moving swiftly
across the page. For a moment, Charlize froze, caught off guard by the
intensity of his focus.
“You’re early,” she said, startling him.
He glanced up at her and his expression was unreadable.
Charlize sat down and tried to sneak a peek at his sketch,
but he flipped the pad closed before she could see. Her curiosity was piqued. “What’s
that?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Daniel said quickly, but his cheeks reddened
slightly.
She raised an eyebrow. “You can’t say nothing after
acting like it’s a big secret.”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Just some sketches. No big
deal.”
Charlize did not press further, but the glimpse she got
behind his mask intrigued her. She pulled out her laptop and opened a folder of
photographs she had taken over the years. “Mr. Nkosi wants us to do an English
assignment on Expressions of Identity. He said the project should
reflect who we are,” she began as she scrolled through the images. “I was
thinking that I could use some of these for the visual part.”
Daniel leaned closer.
She could see that his interest was evident despite his
attempt to appear indifferent.
“These are yours?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Charlize said. “I’ve been into photography since I
was a kid. My dad bought me my first camera.”
Daniel nodded as his gaze lingered on a photo of a sunlit
meadow. “You’ve got an eye for it. This one’s… calming.”
Charlize blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. Last
night she could hardly sleep wondering whether she should show him the photos
or not, but she needed his help. So far, he had a way of making her see things
differently. Like when he explained the themes of Cry, the Beloved Country,
revealing layers she had not considered. Usually, everything in her world was
black or white: earning high grades and achieving her goals. Spending time with
him, though, was shifting something in her, nudging her toward a perspective
she had not allowed herself to explore before. “Thanks,” she said.
He tapped his fingers against the table. “You could pair
these with sketches. You know, contrast light and shadow or… whatever.”
She tilted her head. “Are you suggesting you will help me?”
“Maybe,” Daniel said, leaning back in his chair. “If it
doesn’t cramp your style.”
Charlize glanced at him. “I think I’ll
survive.”
They spent the next hour brainstorming ideas for her
project and their initial tension was easing away. Daniel’s sketches, which he
reluctantly shared were raw and full of emotions, while Charlize’s photographs
captured moments of quiet beauty. There was something about his artistic talent
and unexpected insight that made her see him in a different light.
“You’re not half bad at this,” Charlize admitted as they
packed up.
“Neither are you,” Daniel replied with a grin. “For a
perfectionist.”
Charlize rolled her eyes but could not suppress a chuckle.
“You know,” he said, and then hesitated.
“What do I know?” She looked up from her bag.
He looked embarrassed. “I could… For expression of your
identity, I could… I don’t know. Maybe sketch you? To reflect how someone else
sees you.”
Charlize froze and her fingers tightened around the zipper
of her bag. “You want to sketch me?”
Daniel shrugged, suddenly very interested in the strap of
his backpack. “It was just an idea. Forget it.”
“No, it’s just…” She hesitated, trying to pinpoint the
strange flutter in her stomach. “I wouldn’t even know how to pose for something
like that.”
“You don’t have to pose.” He glanced at her then, and his
expression was unreadable. “I’d just… draw you as you are. How I see you.”
Charlize swallowed. The thought of being seen, really seen,
made her feel uneasy. “I guess it could work for the project,” she said,
keeping her tone casual. “But if you make me look weird—”
He interrupted her with a smirk on his lips. “Noted.”
They stepped out into the warm afternoon air. The schoolyard
was mostly empty now and the sun was already beginning to dip toward the
horizon, casting warm hues across the pavement.
“So,” Daniel said as he shifted his bag higher on his
shoulder, “See you tonight at the community centre?”
Charlize nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for… all of this.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Try not to stress too much,
Perfectionist.”
She rolled her eyes but was smiling. “Try not to disappear
before the next meeting, Rebel.”
Daniel chuckled, giving her a lazy salute before heading
toward the gate.
Charlize watched him go as a small smile lingered on her
lips.
