Chapter 1
"You know, I don't think you should be drinking booze at a funeral but then again, it's you".
Atara turned around to see Mike glaring daggers at her. She had never liked the professor they were supposedly burying and paying respects to.
The only reason she had even agreed to attend the funeral was because her best friend's mom was a moderator slash pastor whatever that meant so she had to attend to appear normal.
She smiled cynically, "Then they shouldn't have brought alcohol to a funeral in the first place don't you think? It's not here as a decor man."
Mike wanted to argue with her but she had a point and everyone was enjoying the expensive wine all in the name of honoring Professor Dube who loved the finer things in life.
He would have drank himself but his father was close to the guy and he had to maintain a clean image for his next election campaign. If Mike messed up, his father would bury him alive.
"So, you think it's best to drink during your Professor's funeral? And why did you hate the guy, you know what don't answer. You hate everyone anyways."
She took another sip and regarded him before answering.
"Well, you are annoying my f**king thunder so I will leave you to your bitter and distinguished thoughts. It's not like I'm the only person drinking here."
With that, she drained her wine glass took another one, and left. She wasn't in the mood to entertain anyone. She scanned the room for Lisa and Angela but she couldn't see them though she had a sneaking suspicion that Lisa was probably somewhere making out with a guy.
As a grounded Pastor's kid, she always made sure that when she wasn't pretending to be holier than thou on Sundays she was out messing up.
Angela was probably out mingling and networking with the who's who of the party, well in this case funeral. In short, Angie was the epitome of a graceful rich kid whom even the Queen of England would have been proud to adopt.
"MaDube? It's so good to see you!"
She noticed her paternal grandmother smiling down at her. She swore. This wasn't her day.
"Don't call me that. I am not part of this family." She bit back.
The old lady smiled a proud smile. It was time her grandchild came home. She had lived running away from her real surname and totem that it was angering the ancestors.
"Well, it's the truth though I'm sure your classmates have no idea that Dominic was your Uncle."
"He was? Well, may he rest in peace now if you don't mind I have to go and find my friends."
"You do know that you have to stay behind for the cleansing ceremony right?" The old lady continued.
Atara chuckled. This was the same woman who had refused that she stay with her dad when he remarried. She had said the ancestors would not approve of a child born out of wedlock.
The dead guy was also for the motion mostly because he was scared that she would be given a stake in the family wealth. God worked in mysterious ways now Dominic would be an ancestor, an annoying one at that.
"Why am I being cleansed? I was never a part of your family I'm sure the dead guys understand as well? The recent company included."
The old lady clenched her fists. If there was anything she hated the most in the world it was how Atara had turned out. Living in the ghetto had messed her up.
It was partly her fault that she had grown up without the comfort of the family's wealth but by the end of the day she was a Dube and that meant she had to partake in certain family rituals.
The Shona people had a way of doing their things meaning even if she lived amongst the Ndebele people all her life, home was home.
Atara got a satisfied feeling from seeing her Grandma mad. It was satisfying every time she pissed anyone off which was all the time.
"You will remain behind if you don't want me announcing through the MC that you are part of this family. I'm sure that would ruin your mood. No?"
She wanted to swear. She wanted to kill her grandma on the spot but she could only clench her fists as well.
"Fine," she said. " I will stay behind but I'm not getting cleansed and I will be damned if you expect me to cut my hair for a guy who made my life a living hell."
With that, she left making a show of grabbing another glass of wine. Rich people from the suburbs hated it when uncultured kids from the ghetto acted out.
"Don't tell me you are gonna drink that AT?" Angie asked, amused.
"No, I was planning on bathing with it." Atara rolled her eyes.
Angie grabbed the other glass and took a sip which surprised her. Angie would never drink in public let alone at a funeral. She had a reputation and half a million followers on social media platforms scrutinizing her every move.
"What's up?"
Angie scrunched up her nose in disgust before answering, "That lousy old guy was insinuating that I f**k him if I want my mom to get the tender. I mean what the actual hell?"
"Whoa! Whoa! Easy cheese girl. Only I'm allowed to be vulgar here. Watch it before you mess up everything you have worked hard."
"I know, AT it just sucks that despite all my hard work all people see is a sexual object," Angie said dumping the wine glass on the available surface then her tone changed.
"I saw you talking to Mike. What's up?"
Atara had to summon all her mental willpower not to cuss again. First of all, no guy ever asked her out and her friends knew that. Guys only spoke to her when they needed to buy her friends' contact details.
Yes, she sold those and counseling services and relationship advice, and anything else. Mike was an exception. In what sense she had no idea but Angie wanted Mike. She knew that but pretended otherwise.
"He was asking if I could source the latest original air pods for him. The ones he had got stolen." She lied.
Angie looked relieved if not happy. Atara had insecurities about everything in her life so she doubted that if Angie and Mike were to date she would be able to stop them. She was just a kid stuck in two different worlds with no clear background or family.
Only Lisa understood. The funeral procedure went about for almost two hours with some students crying their eyes out for the untimely death of Professor Dominic. His three wives and baby mamas staring daggers at each other.
Atara had to admit that deep down she was looking forward to the reading of the will.
Atara's father giving a long-winded speech. Lecturers and businessmen paying their respects and Journalists eating the whole staff up. Her stepmother, Nyasha even had her camera crew film her.
It was overwhelming and Atara was getting tipsy. Her three step-siblings were stuck at the airport in South Africa for God knows what reason.
When one of the wives fainted Atara decided she had had enough and decided to go and wait in one of the buses that had ferried them to West Park Cemetery.
At least she could get some sleep whilst the whole drama was taking place. She must have dozed off because when she woke up Mike was staring at her.
He looked good. So damn good that she forgot she wasn't even supposed to notice how his black suit shaped his chest. How his fade haircut was giving dope rich kid vibes (Which he was) and he looked hot. His black tie loosely hanging and,
She wanted,
She didn't finish that thought as Mike's lips were on hers. She would blame the alcohol at school tomorrow for now this felt right. His lips on hers, his hands all over her box braids was everything she wanted at the moment.
Mike had followed her. He had been watching her and the only reason he followed was because he thought she might do something stupid. Or so he told himself.
The dress she was wearing wasn't helping anyone though it was a simple black dress with black sneakers. She had her braids in a big bunny and he wanted to untie it which he did when he was busy kissing her in the funeral bus.
They were gonna regret this but at that moment, it felt like right.
Kissing your rich childhood sweetheart/ horrible ex felt right.
