“Forced,” he repeated, stopping me midsentence and closing in narrowly.
“Another reason why I’d be just as satisfied if you hopped right back on that plane. Every single soul here is present because they want to be. You’re only serving a sentence.”
My breath rushed in and out of me in heady anger. “All the same,” I gritted. “I’d appreciate it if you got off your self-righteous pedestal and came back down to earth. I’m here to work. So let’s work.”
That’s the moment I realized that my attitude about feeling like being sent to Masego was the most unfair punishment in the world had disappeared the second I’d laid eyes on Mandisa. It surprised me, shocked me, to be honest, but that didn’t mean I was going to enjoy my work at Masego. It only meant that while I was there, I wouldn’t feel as if a gross injustice had been performed against me. All I had to do was remind myself of Mandisa’s story.
CHAPTER NINE
“Come with me,” a pissed-off Dingane ordered. He led me to his side of the hut and I followed him inside.
His bed looked plain and barely able to contain him, but his walls were covered in an eclectic assortment of belongings from pictures the children had drawn him to an acoustic guitar.
He slid a large tub out from underneath his bed and grabbed a stack of papers I’d seen in the back of the jeep when he’d picked me up from the airport.
“What are those?” I asked.
“Worksheets. Any time I’m in town, I try to get as many as possible.”
We walked to the classrooms and my heart started to beat erratically. I was nervous, really nervous. I wondered if the kids would see right through me, if they knew what a fraud I really was, that I had no business helping them, as I was the worst person I knew.
The door opened and I saw twenty smiling faces, happy and giggling. They fell quiet as soon as Dingane and I entered the room. I gulped. Audibly.
“Students, you’ve met Miss Price—”
“Sophie,” I interrupted. “They can call me Sophie.”
Dingane narrowed his eyes at me for interrupting but continued, “You may call her Miss Price. Should we try to speak English today? To make her more comfortable?” he asked them kindly.
Oh, I see, I thought. They get Dr. Jekyll and I get Mr. Hyde.
“Yes, Mr. Aberdeen!” they all chimed in wildly.
“Good. I’ve brought the new worksheets from town and I’d like to start on these first. Oliver?” he asked a little boy in the front row.
The boy got up quickly and began passing the worksheets around.
Dingane closed the distance between us and I couldn’t help how much more nervous his proximity made me. Tried as I did, I could not get over how attractive I found him. “Think you can handle math?” he asked.
“I’ll try my best,” I sneered.
“Are you capable?” he asked again.
“Excuse me, but I attended the most elite prep school in my area and I graduated with honors, not that that’s any of your business. So, yes, I believe I am capable of handling third-grade math.”
“Fine. All I want you to do is circle the desks and make sure they’re grasping the lesson.”
“I’ll try, your majesty.” And that earned me an eye roll that simultaneously made me want to slap him and kiss him.
“Today we’ll continue with equations and variables.” I turned, expecting them all to groan and whine the way my classrooms back home would, but I looked at the little faces and saw nothing but excited anticipation.
They like learning.
I listened as Dingane taught them how to solve for “x” in a simple variable and tried so hard not to let myself get distracted by his hands as they moved fluidly over the chalkboard. When the lesson was over, he and I both awkwardly danced around the other in attempt to avoid being near each other as we circled the desks. I’d barely avoided him when I noticed a little girl twirling her pencil in her hand and blankly staring at her desk.
I bent and sat on my heels next to her. “What’s wrong?” I asked too harshly. I cleared my throat. “What’s wrong?” I asked as sweetly as I could.
“I do not understand,” she stated clearly, no emotion in her voice.