The Set Up (6 page)

Dylan rolled her eyes and took some sort of floaty green top out of the bag. She held it up in front of her. ‘Like it?’

I grunted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

‘Lovely,’ Jack enthused. ‘A great colour for your eyes.’ Dylan shrugged, but you could tell she was pleased he liked the top. ‘How did he do?’ She pointed to me, though her question was clearly directed at Jack.

‘Brilliantly,’ Jack said. ‘He has an amazing gift.’

I frowned. What was Jack doing? My telekinesis was private.

Dylan turned to me, twisting her long, red hair round her hand. ‘So what’s your thing?’

I stared at her. ‘My
thing
?’

Jack cleared his throat. ‘She means your psychic ability, Nico.’

My mouth fell open.

‘It’s okay,’ Jack went on, quickly. ‘Dylan knows all about the Medusa gene.’

Dylan glanced at him. ‘You haven’t told him?’ she said.

Jack shook his head.

‘Told me what?’ I put down my cheese sandwich. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Er . . . when William Fox created the Medusa gene,’ Jack said, ‘he didn’t just implant the synthesis in you.’

I stared at him. ‘You mean there are
others
?’

Jack nodded. ‘Three others, all your age.’

‘Where?’ I turned to Dylan. ‘Who?’

Dylan’s face curved into a mysterious smile. She picked up a box of matches off the counter.

‘Well, I tracked down a boy called Edward O’Brien a couple of months ago, but he wasn’t interested in my help.’ Jack shrugged. ‘There’s a girl out there somewhere, too. I’m still trying to find her, but it’s not easy. I don’t even know her name. You see, William destroyed all his scientific notes before he died. The identity of the four babies implanted with the Medusa gene was in those.’

‘So how are you going to find her?’

‘Fergus knows who she is. William told him before he died.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Well, Fergus knew about
you
, didn’t he? And I know he’d spoken to Edward O’Brien, ages before I tracked him and his family down – frightened the wits out of the poor boy.’ Jack shook his head.

‘Oh.’ My head was reeling again. It hadn’t occurred to me for a second that there might be
other
people with the same ability as me. A knot of disappointment curled itself up in my chest. If I was honest, I’d kind of liked being the only one who could move objects without touching them.

‘So did this boy – Edward whoever – have telekinetic powers too?’ I said, flatly.

‘No.’ Jack shook his head. ‘He didn’t tell me much, but I’m sure of that. Anyway, William was adamant that the gene didn’t work in isolation . . . that character traits, environmental factors, all sorts of random elements would determine how the Medusa gene developed. It’s highly unlikely all four of you will have the same abilities.’

‘So what other ways might the gene . . . come out in someone?’ I asked.

Jack and Dylan exchanged glances.

‘Most likely in some way that reflects other aspects of their personality,’ Jack said. ‘At least, that was William’s theory. There aren’t
that
many options . . . Mind-reading is one though . . . as is being able to predict the future.’

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘That’s amazing.’

Jack nodded. ‘All four of you are likely to have a distinct and incredible psychic talent.’

‘You only told me about two of the others,’ I said. ‘A boy called Edward O’Brien and a girl you don’t know anything about. Who’s the fourth?’

Jack glanced at Dylan. She was still holding the box of matches. She drew one out and struck it. She gazed deep into the flame, then held up her finger.

‘Dylan’s the fourth teenager with the Medusa gene,’ Jack said, softly. ‘Dylan?’

Dylan glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. ‘If I see danger coming, I can protect myself from getting hurt. Watch.’

I stared, as Dylan slowly moved her finger into the fire. She held it there for several seconds, her expression impassive, then slowly withdrew it. She held the finger up so I could see it clearly. It was unmarked.

I realised I’d been holding my breath and let it out.

‘Never fails to bowl me over.’ Jack grinned at me.

I nodded, feeling I was expected to say something.

‘How did you do that?’ I asked Dylan.

She shrugged. ‘Jack showed me how to focus on my breath. I just do that, and it feels like my body gets this protective coat – like a second skin.’

‘Does it only work when you know you’re in danger?’ I said, genuinely interested.

‘At first it did, but now I can do it whenever I want.’ Dylan smiled coldly at me, her slanted green eyes narrowing like a cat’s.

I nodded, wondering if she always sounded that arrogant.

Jack leaned forward. ‘Nico, I wonder if you would consider doing a favour in return for me . . .er, helping you develop your own abilities.’

My hand unconsciously went to my pocket. I felt the thick edge of the folded ten-pound notes. ‘What’s that?’ I said.

‘You have better access to Fergus’s papers and computer files than anyone else in the world,’ Jack said, intently. ‘As I explained, he undoubtedly knows who the fourth person with the Medusa gene is – but the girl herself is probably developing her abilities with no idea about what’s going on. You
know
how terrifying it was for you when your telekinesis started. Imagine living with that for months . . . even years. I have to find the poor girl, even if it’s just to pass on the information about the Medusa gene, like I did with Edward O’Brien.’

I nodded.

‘Of course, if you don’t want to go through your step-dad’s things I’ll understand,’ Jack went on. ‘But you are – without doubt – in the best position to do it.’

My hand fingered the bundle of notes in my pocket again. This money was my passport to Ketty. And Jack had helped me to get it. The least I could do now was help him help someone else. Anyway, Fergus didn’t deserve my loyalty after keeping quiet about the Medusa gene all these years.

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘No problem.’

‘For you.’ I handed over the envelope.

Ketty opened it, a puzzled expression on her face. She drew out the Youth Marathon entry confirmation.

I bit my lip, waiting for her response. I’d gone online and booked her onto the marathon as soon as I’d got back from Jack’s. It had been straightforward enough to fill out the entry form – I knew Ketty ran about three miles a day, which was above the entry requirement.

I’d printed it out and posted it with the necessary forty pounds cash and now, three days later, here was the confirmation that she was actually signed up for the race.

At last Ketty looked up. It was morning break and we were standing in the entrance hall. People were rushing past us in every direction, but all I could see were Ketty’s golden-brown eyes.

‘Wow, Nico.’ She looked up at me, full of wonder. Then she wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t understand . . .’

‘There’s nothing
to
understand.’ I shrugged. ‘You said you wanted to enter the marathon and I’ve registered you.’ I pushed four fifty-pound notes into her hand. ‘This should cover all the other stuff you need – travel and food and staying in the designated youth hostel. You’ll need your parents’ permission to go, but you said before they were only objecting to the cost, so that shouldn’t be a problem.’

Ketty’s mouth fell open. ‘But . . . but where did you get all this money?’

I shrugged. ‘Been saving for ages,’ I said.

Ketty raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t lie to me, Nico. This is
loads
of money. We both know you don’t have any savings
or
get this kind of allowance.’

Crap.

‘Okay, okay.’ I sighed. ‘If you want the truth, I won it on a bet and I thought you could use it more than me.’

‘You’re kidding.’ Ketty frowned.

‘You’re welcome,’ I said, sarcastically.

Ketty’s face softened. She reached up and kissed my cheek. I could feel myself reddening and coughed to cover my embarrassment.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s amazing you’ve done this . . . like I said, I just don’t understand . . .’

I rolled my eyes. ‘I bet you don’t give Billy such a hard time when
he
buys you something.’

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew I’d said something wrong.

‘Billy’s never bought me anything,’ Ketty said.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Really? What about your new phone and those fancy earrings you were wearing last Friday.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Ketty took a step away from me. ‘The phone was a giveaway with some bank account Billy’s parents set up for him. He’d just got a new upgrade, so he let me have the mobile from the offer.’ She shook her head. ‘And the earrings belong to his older sister. I was
borrowing
them because Billy offered . . . Just for the night. I didn’t really want to, but he kept going on about them. You should know they’re not my kind of thing at all.’

‘Oh.’ My throat felt tight. Ketty was looking at me like I had ten heads.

‘Is that what this is about?’ She frowned. ‘Trying to look big by competing with Billy Martin?’

‘No . . .’

There was a long pause. The school bell rang right above our heads. Ketty looked at her shoes. ‘Anyway, me and Billy . . . we’ve just been linking. We’re not going out or anything.’

‘Yeah?’ My heart leaped. I tried not to look too excited. ‘Well, whatever – this money’s got nothing to do with him.’

‘So where did you get it?’ Ketty paused, then her eyes widened. ‘You didn’t
steal
it, did you?’

‘No.’ I stared at her, astonished. ‘No, of
course
I didn’t.’

Ketty jutted out her chin. ‘Where did it come from, then? And don’t give me any rubbish about winning it on a bet. Proper gambling’s illegal if you’re under eighteen and no one at school has this much cash to lose.’

Panic swirled in my chest. My mind was blank. Part of me wanted to tell her the truth – but I was terrified she’d think I was a total freak.

‘Okay,’ I said. I could hear the desperation in my voice. ‘I won it doing a trick . . . in a talent competition.’

Ketty screwed up her forehead. ‘What sort of trick? Like that stupid twig-moving thing you tried to show me a couple of weeks ago?’

‘No . . .’ I cast around for something . . . anything that would sound convincing.
Stick as close to the truth as you can.
‘It was a trick, er . . . using balls.’

Ketty shook her head. ‘Nico . . . I’ve known you for months . . . you can’t do any tricks – with or without balls.’

The panic in my chest spread like fire.
Breathe. Breathe.

‘I can,’ I said. ‘I mean, it wasn’t a
magic
trick or anything . . .’

Ketty put her hand on her hips. ‘Tell me, specifically, what you did then.’

My mind spun. I lighted on the only trick-related activity I could think of involving balls. ‘Juggling,’ I said.

‘Really? You can juggle?’ Ketty frowned. ‘Well enough to win a talent contest?’

‘Yeah, I juggled with seven balls.’ The claim blurted out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Ketty raised an eyebrow. ‘Show me.’

Oh God. Oh God.

‘I’ll show you later,’ I said, frantically trying to buy myself some time.

‘Right.’ Ketty looked away, her face a picture of disbelief.

We stood in an awkward silence.

Shit.
This was
so
not how I’d imagined this moment. Ketty was supposed to look up at me with big, grateful eyes and I was supposed to put my arms around her and . . .

‘I don’t think I should take your money,’ Ketty said, stiffly. ‘Seeing as you’ve now given me three versions of how you got it.’ She held the two hundred pounds and the entry form out to me. ‘Here.’

‘I’m not lying to you about the juggling, I
promise
.’ I remembered what Jack had said to me after the football match. ‘If you can’t use the money then give it to charity,’ I said.

‘I don’t know.’ Ketty hesitated. ‘I
really
want to run in that marathon but . . . do you
promise
you didn’t steal it?’

‘Yes.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘I told you . . . I won a talent competition by juggling with seven balls. I’ll show you . . . we’ll go out on Saturday night. Yeah?’

Crap. Crap. Crap.

What had I said ‘Saturday night’ for? That was far too soon.

‘Okay.’ Ketty bit her lip. ‘But I won’t need all of it.’ She handed me back fifty pounds. I had no choice but to take it. She pocketed the entry confirmation and the rest of the cash. ‘Thank you.’ She stared up at me.

Oh God
, that wasn’t how I wanted her to look at me. Her eyes were all wary and suspicious.

‘Ketty?’

‘I’ve got to get to Art.’ Ketty tucked her hair behind her ears, all self-conscious. ‘Er . . . thanks again . . . see you later . . .’

She turned and walked away. I sagged against the wall. watching her go and feeling like crying.

What had I done? I’d given Ketty all that money but, if anything, she seemed to like me
less
than she’d done before. Plus, even though she wasn’t with Billy, I couldn’t tell her how I felt myself. Not yet. First I had to prove to her that what I’d said about doing tricks was true. Proving my honesty and impressing her with my skills was obviously far more important than spending a load of money on her.