Entwined (35 page)

After school, which is just the same as last year, despite what Dad said, Lebz, Wiki and I head to Railpark Mall to get Wiki an external hard drive. It takes him five minutes to select what he wants and pay for it.

“Why can’t you shop like Wiki?” I ask Lebz.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she retorts.

Wiki steers us towards the food court, where, over some greasy Russian rolls, he and Lebz proceed to give me unsolicited advice.

“When are you going to admit that you’re in love with Rakwena?” Lebz demands.

I choke on my food. “Excuse me?”

“She has a point,” says Wiki, proving that even geniuses can be complete idiots.

“I am not
in love
with Rakwena,” I tell them sternly. “What do you think this is, Sweet Valley High?”

“But you like him,” Lebz persists, “and he obviously likes you.” She raises her eyebrows at me, making me glad I didn’t tell her about the kiss at the Puppetmaster’s house. “So why are you being so difficult? Just tell him.”

I take another bite so I don’t have to respond.

“I understand your reluctance,” says Wiki. He’s not reading for once, which means he’s really into the conversation. I’m in trouble.

I swallow. “My reluctance?”

“He has secrets; mysterious abilities and an unsettling scar. But he seems completely loyal to you, and I’m sure you can trust him.”

“And he’s kind of hot,” adds Lebz.

Wiki sighs. “He’s always ready to come to your rescue, and he knows more about the supernatural than you do, so you can learn a lot from him.”

“And he’s rich.”

Wiki glares at her. “Thank you, Lebz.”

They’re serious, and determined. They’re completely convinced that Rakwena and I make a perfect pair, and to be honest I see where they’re coming from. It makes sense. We’re good friends, we’re gifted, we work well together. And there’s chemistry. That kiss was proof enough; I feel a little dizzy just thinking about it. There’s just one problem. I take a sip of my drink and look at my friends. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Of course it will – you’re so right for each other, it’s disgusting,” says Lebz, sucking her juice up through her straw so loudly that half the people in the food court turn to stare.

“OK, look at it this way. Imagine you started dating Wiki.”

“No!” they both cry in horror.

I laugh. “I said
imagine
. You date, you break up. What happens to the friendship? Especially for you, Lebz. Once you stop liking a guy, you start hating him.”

“That’s not true!”

Wiki and I exchange glances, remembering a guy Lebz dated for five minutes in Form Three.

“OK,” she concedes, remembering him, too.

“Exactly.” I’m feeling quite smug now. “I don’t want to risk my friendship with Rakwena just so we can have a silly romance for a few months.”

“She has a point,” Wiki says to Lebz, with a defeated sigh.

Lebz scowls. “Trust Connie to be so sensible – and so boring. Anyway, I did my part. If you don’t want to take the chance on true love, it’s your loss.”

I roll my eyes. What a drama queen. There’s a little voice in my head saying something about the way my heart flutters when Rakwena touches me, or some such nonsense. I take swift action to drown it out.

Dad is waiting when I get home. He doesn’t look happy.

“Hello, father,” I say brightly, giving him a peck on his cheek as I walk past his armchair. “How dost the day goeth? We’re doing
Macbeth
this year, in case you’re wondering. What should I make for dinner?”

“Connie, it’s six-thirty.”

“I know, I’m half an hour early. A record, hey?”

“Where were you?”

I drop my bag on the dining table next to his briefcase and keys. “At Railpark with Wiki and Lebz.”

“And Rakwena?”

Ah. I turn to face him. “No. I did see him this morning. He stopped by school on his way to work.”

“So you’re still hanging out with him.”

“He’s still my friend. You said we should stay apart for a while, and we did.”

He sighs. “I was hoping you might stay apart a little longer.”

Eish
. Parents. Considering the whole wisdom with age thing, you’d think they’d be a bit more reasonable. “Rakwena isn’t a bad influence. That incident last year was my fault.
I
wanted to go.
He
came along to protect me.”

“He didn’t do a very good job of protecting you,” he points out.

“It would have been worse if he hadn’t been there. He looks out for me, and he tries to talk sense into me, which isn’t easy. He’s good for me.”

He’s not convinced. It’s the damn scar, I know it is. I’ll have to come up with a nice sob story about it so he can back off a bit. Maybe I’ll say he was attacked with a broken bottle while trying to defend some poor girl’s honour.

“Your grandfather doesn’t like him, either.” He gives me a sly look, as if this validates his argument. “Don’t you trust his judgement?”

“Ntatemogolo doesn’t like anybody,” I remind him. “He doesn’t even like
you
.”

He frowns, annoyed. “I don’t trust the boy, simple as that. Ever since you met him you’ve spent too much time out of the house, getting up to God knows what.”

“That’s what you say about Ntatemogolo, too.”

“Don’t talk back,” he snaps. “Rakwena acts like someone much older; he has this… energy. It’s disturbing. And I don’t know anything about his background.”

Now I’m getting annoyed. “I told you, his father is dead.”

“And his mother went off to live in South Africa and left him here – you don’t find that bizarre? Why didn’t she take him along?”

“She’s not in a position to look after him,” I reply through gritted teeth, “being in a mental institution and all.” Oops. I wasn’t supposed to tell him that.

His entire demeanour changes. The anger diffuses, replaced by a wave of horror laced with a generous amount of remorse. “Oh. Oh, God. I didn’t… What happened?”

I lean over the back of the sofa and let my body tumble onto the soft cushions. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I shouldn’t even have brought it up.”

“So that’s where you went when he took you to South Africa?”

I nod, silently begging Rakwena to forgive me. “Dad, please don’t say anything. He’s really private, and he’ll be hurt if he knew I told you.”

“Of course.”

“That’s why he acts like someone older – he’s had to grow up pretty quickly. He has to take care of himself and his mother.”

“But surely he must have relatives who could have taken him in,” he splutters, wide-eyed.

“It’s complicated.” I cringe. I’d better stop before I say too much. “I can’t talk about this. I’m only telling you so you’ll understand that Rakwena is a good guy who’s been through a lot. Everywhere he goes people stare at him because of the scar. People judge him without getting to know him.”

He scratches his chin. “Look, he seems nice enough. I suppose it must be hard without anyone there to give him guidance. It’s amazing he didn’t end up on the streets.”

“He’s a smart guy,” I tell him with a smile. “And I mean school smart, too.”

“Why doesn’t he go to university in South Africa, closer to his mother?”

Dad thinks he’s so clever. I can already see his mind at work, trying to think of strings he could pull to get Rakwena into a school across the border, and away from me. “He needs to work. His mother left him money, but it won’t last forever. Besides, this is his home.” I sit up and look at him. “So do you think you can give him a break?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I suppose so. But I’m not putting up with any nonsense, Connie. From either of you.”

I jump up and rush over to hug him. “Does that mean he can come over?”

“Yes,” he sighs.

I’ve won this battle, but I can’t help feeling a pang of unease. Despite everything I’ve said to Dad, there are still sides to Rakwena I have never seen.

Rika Electrics is in the oddly named African Mall, nestled between a fabric shop and an Indian restaurant. I’ve never even seen the shop before, which is no surprise because its red windows blend in with those of the restaurant next door, and the sign is so small that only a squirrel could find it.

Rakwena’s standing behind the counter, deep in geek-speak conversation with a customer. I pretend to look around while watching him examine the customer’s broken toy out of the corner of my eye. He frowns, running his hands over the object, which looks like a camera on steroids. He reminds me of a doctor examining a patient, but with more flair.

As soon as the customer leaves I pounce. Rakwena raises his eyebrows at me. “Everything OK?”

“I just wanted to check the place out,” I tell him. The truth is I miss having him at Syringa, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I knock off in a few minutes, so you can hang around,” he says.

I nod and begin browsing, keeping busy until he emerges from the back room. I follow him to the parking lot. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” he says, starting the engine.

“I think you should talk about what happened the day you got the scar. I think we need to deal with it.”

“I’ve dealt with it,” he replies tersely.

“No, you’ve buried it.” I sigh. “I want to understand you, but I can’t do that if the most important event in your life is a secret.”

“You’re pushing again,” he warns me.

“Sorry. It’s just… I’m here. You can talk to me. I want you to know that.”

He remains silent for the rest of the trip. When he pulls up in front of my house, I turn to him. “Are you angry with me for bringing it up?”

He shakes his head. “Maybe you have a point. I’ll think about it.” He leans over to ruffle my hair, and something takes over me.

My hand comes up between us and moves towards his face with intent, though I don’t know where the intent comes from because I don’t remember sending any commands. My fingers graze his skin, drawing sparks as they run down his cheek. Suddenly his expression has completely changed. He’s looking at me with such intensity that my breath catches in my throat.

“Connie…”

This time I have no one to blame but myself. I lean forward, and then our lips are touching and –
ag
, damn it! Why does it have to feel so good? The tingle goes through my lips, into my jaw, down my neck. And then –

“Connie.”

I open my eyes, flustered and embarrassed. “Honestly, Lizard, what were you thinking?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Me?”

“Wow, look at the time! Almost seven. Gotta go.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door. He reaches for my hand.

“I think we need to talk.”

Absolutely not. I’d rather just run into my room and hide for a few hours. I pull my hand away and get out of the car. “Night!” I walk to the front door as quickly as I can without actually running. When I reach the door I turn around to see the car pulling back into the road. God, Connie! What the hell was that? I take a moment to pull myself together before opening the door. “Dad, I’m home!”

I hear the sound of water running – Dad’s in the shower. Good. I head to the kitchen and put some pasta in the microwave while I go to my room to change. By the time I return to the kitchen in my comfy tracksuit pants and T-shirt, I feel more like my usual self. You know, the one who doesn’t go around kissing people. It’s because I’m worried about him, that’s all. My concern was reflected in a rush of emotion and my body took it as some kind of signal. It was a slip of the tongue – so to speak.

I’m distracted the next morning, so it takes Lebz a few tries before she finally gets my attention. I turn to her, blinking. We’re sitting on our bench waiting for the first bell. Wiki has already re-acquainted himself with the library and now has a fat book in his lap. His glasses keep sliding down his nose as he pores over it.

Lebz is miffed. “
Ao
, Connie
–
what’s up with you? I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and you haven’t heard a word!”

“Sorry.” I offer her a placating smile. “What’s up?”

She folds her arms and tosses her head. “Never mind. You’re obviously not interested.”

No, I’m really not, but there’s no need for her to know that. I poke her upper arm, which has become just a little fleshier over the festive season. “Tell me. Did Kelly finally have a lobotomy?”

She clicks her tongue. “I thought you might like to know that Emily and Laone have started their first year at Syringa.”

Now she has my attention. I scan the campus, but there’s no sign of them. “How did they look?” I haven’t seen any of the girls since that fateful day, though I’ve kept tabs on them through Lebz. Rose is in Johannesburg, but she’s sent a couple of emails and seems to be adjusting.

“Fine,” says Lebz. “They fit right in, but they’re keeping a low profile. Their names weren’t mentioned in the articles about the Puppetmaster, but of course everyone knows it’s them. I have a feeling they’ve learned their lesson.”

“I hope so. If nothing else, what happened to Amantle should be enough to keep them out of trouble. Any word on her?”

“Still unresponsive. Her parents are out for blood. They want to sue the traditional healers’ association because they didn’t monitor the Puppetmaster, which is kind of a long shot.”

I don’t want to think about the Puppetmaster, out there enjoying his freedom. “So where’s Refilwe?”

“Looks like her parents are sending her to South Africa, too.”

“Good,” I murmur, but my thoughts have drifted back to Rakwena. We haven’t spoken since last night, apart from a brief sms he sent saying he wants to see me later.

Wiki finally looks up from his book. “I have some more information for the file,” he announces. “I’ll transfer it this weekend so you can both have a look at it on Monday.”

It’s only then that I realise that he’s reading a book on African folklore. “Wiki, are you doing research?”

“Of course. I’m always doing research.” He smiles. “This material is very interesting, you know. And I’m sure it will be useful at some point.”

“Isn’t he sweet?” says Lebz.

“A darling,” I agree, patting his cheek fondly. “What have you got? Anything on how to hunt sorcerers?”