Unravelled (3 page)

The jar works a little like a supernatural vacuum cleaner; when I’m plagued by negative energy I put my hand over it and it sucks out all the dirt. I’ve only used it twice – both times after particularly trying sessions with Ntatemogolo. The bell makes a wonderful sound and is supposed to clear my head. The anklet is about a century old, and I can’t help worrying that if I put it on it will fall apart.

I take it out of the box and examine the faded design on the chipped and scratched wooden beads. There’s something humbling about holding a piece of history in my hand. Ntatemogolo promised he’d tell me the story of the girl who first wore it, but we’ve been rather busy.

I put the anklet back, close the box and put it back in its place. I glance at my phone and gasp; it’s almost six-thirty. I jump up and shove the File into my school bag; I’m giving it back to Wiki today. Then I head to the kitchen for breakfast.

Dad is standing over the counter, gulping down a cup of coffee. His shirt is slightly rumpled, his brown hair is standing up at the back, his milky skin looks flushed, and behind his glasses his eyes are half-closed.

“Morning, love,” he says with a sigh, dragging himself over to kiss my forehead.

“Hi, Dad. You look terrible.”

He gives me a weak, lopsided grin. “Just tired. I was up most of the night working on a report for Salinger.”

I open the fridge and take out the milk. “What time did you get home?”

“Late. After eleven, I think. Was Rakwena here?”

“Ja; he left around nine.” I make myself a bowl of muesli and eat it standing up, watching him. “Are you almost done with the report? I think you need a break.”

He yawns and puts his empty mug on the counter. “I’m done, but they want me to oversee a big project they’re starting soon. I have to hire research assistants from the university before then. God, I’m knackered.”

I frown at him. “Let me at least make you a proper breakfast, Dad – you can’t survive on coffee.”

He shakes his head and goes to fetch his briefcase from the dining room table. “I have a meeting at eight – got to prepare. See you later, love.”

I frown as he heads out. After breakfast I turn on the radio while I wait for Lebz. Auntie Lydia comes in at quarter to seven, her petite frame buried under bags of sewing material. She runs a tailoring business on the side, but I can’t remember the last time she brought this much work with her. I hurry to open the door for her.

“Wow,” I marvel as she dumps the lot on the dining table. “Are you opening a shop?”

She laughs. “I have a lot of orders this week. Is your father gone?”

I nod. “You just missed him. Any messages?”

“It’s nothing…” Her sigh says otherwise. “He forgot to pay me yesterday.”

I rummage around on the dining table where Dad usually leaves Auntie Lydia’s pay, but there’s no sign of an envelope. “He must have forgotten all about it. He’s been really busy. Should I call and remind him?”

She shakes her head and pats my arm. “I’ll call his office later. Aren’t you going to be late? Where’s Malebogo?”

“I don’t know.” I reach into my pocket for my phone and check the time. “She’s usually here by now. I’m sure she’s on the way.”

Auntie Lydia goes off to clean the kitchen and I stand on the doorstep, watching the road. Finally I see Lebz hurrying towards the house, scarlet braids flying behind her. Students at the Syringa Institute of Excellence aren’t allowed “unnatural” hair styles, but the teachers can’t seem to agree on how to define “unnatural”, so people like Lebz get away with anything.

She lifts the latch on the front gate and pushes it open, then runs up the driveway, leaving the gate wide open behind her as usual.
The gate,
I tell her silently. She comes to an abrupt stop, turns around and goes back to close the gate. Being a telepath comes in very handy sometimes.

“News!” she squeals, almost knocking me over as she bolts into the house.

Only a boy could get Lebz this excited. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Can we go? We’re late already.”

She dashes into the kitchen to say hello to Lydia, then runs back and grabs my arm. Her nails are blue today, but I bet not a single teacher will notice. “Connie, oh my God! You will
not
believe Kelly’s new boyfriend.”

Oh, a double whammy – a boy
and
Kelly, Lebz’s buxom, brainless role model. I drag her towards the road. “Let me guess – his father owns half the country.”

“I have no idea who his father is, but who cares?” She sighs and releases my arm so she can clasp her hands together in rapture. “Connie! He’s
so
hot. I mean…so, so, so hot. Damn! I have never seen anyone so cute in my whole life. And get this – there are more of them!”

“More boyfriends?” I arch my eyebrows. I thought Kelly was more of a serial monogamist, but I’m always looking for new reasons to dislike her.

Lebz makes an exasperated noise in her throat. “More hot boys! A whole group of them; six, and they are all good-looking.
All
of them! Do you know how rare that is? A bunch of guys who hang out together and are all the same level of hotness?”

I roll my eyes. “Wow. A biological miracle.”

She slaps my arm impatiently. “Don’t you think this is a little bit weird?”

There’s something about the way she says that last word that grabs my attention. “Strange weird or freaky weird?”

She raises her eyebrows. OK – freaky weird. As in “too strange to be a coincidence; must be supernatural” weird. I ignore the neighbourhood scenery and the other kids making their way to school.

“Come on. What’s freaky about a bunch of cute boys? Maybe they’re related.”

“They are, but still.” She heaves a weary sigh and shakes her head. “
Choma
, listen to me. There are cute boys, and then there are cute boys. The Cresta Crew are unnaturally hot and charming. All of them. I repeat –
all
of them.”

I snicker. “What are they, a boy band? Were they discovered at Cresta Lodge or something?”

“Cresta, Johannesburg,” Lebz explains impatiently. “They lived there before coming here, so people started calling them the Cresta Crew.”

I’m not allowed to read the minds of my friends, but I take a quick peek just to see if she really believes there’s something off about these guys. I barely have to scratch the surface to sense her unease, even though it’s mixed up with a good deal of excitement. “OK. I’m listening.”

We’ve reached Syringa, and we make our way to our bench. Wiki, our third musketeer, is already there, going over yesterday’s Business Studies homework.

He glances up at us, round glasses magnifying his eyes. “Hello, ladies. What’s new?”

“Lebz is convinced that Kelly’s latest conquest is a member of a gang of freaks,” I report, slumping onto the bench beside him.

“Ah,” he replies with a nod, and goes right back to his homework.

“So this is the story,” says Lebz, warming to her subject. “These six guys all decided to leave South Africa together. They arrived about a week ago and they’ve been flirting their way across town. Now Spencer – that’s Kelly’s man – is the hottest. He met Kelly at a party and they’ve been inseparable ever since. This morning she emailed me his photo – that’s why I got to your place late – and I nearly died. I’d never actually seen one of them until now. Connie! I’m telling you, my heart stopped.”

“So what are you thinking?” I reach into my bag for my water bottle and take a sip. “They’ve taken some kind of potion that makes them gorgeous?”

She shrugs. “You’re the expert. I just think these guys are too good to be true. And Kelly has dated a lot of incredible guys. She’s not easily impressed, but Spencer has her completely under his spell – not that I blame her.”

“Hmm,” I reply, in my no-nonsense supernatural detective tone. “I’ll look into it.”

“Be careful,” she warns me. “Rumour has it that those guys can make any girl fall in love with them.”

I laugh. Unless they’re duplicates of Rakwena, I don’t think I have anything to worry about. Not that I’m
in love
with Rakwena. I just mean… Never mind. The point is I’m glad to have a potential mystery on my hands. Time to put all those months of practice to use. With any luck, the Cresta Crew will turn out to be nothing more than a bunch of boys with good genes and even better game. But if they’re not, I’ll find out.

**

“So what do you think?”

I follow Rakwena up the steep cement road that twists from the quarry to the top of Kgale Hill. I’m out of breath, but it’s a vast improvement to how I felt the first time I let Rakwena drag me up the hill. I don’t know how he convinced me to make this hike a Sunday morning ritual, but we hardly ever miss a week.

“I think you should do more walking and less talking,” he replies impatiently.

“Come on, help me out here. Do you think Lebz is being paranoid about these guys?”

“Lebz is being Lebz.” The disdain in his voice is palpable, and a little offensive. I thought he liked Lebz. He stops to open his bag, hands me a bottle of water and takes a swig from his two-litre bottle of barely diluted Oros. “She thinks her garden shed is haunted, remember?”

OK, he has a point. Somehow Lebz sees ghosts where the rest of us see rats. “Maybe you’re right. She can be a bit of a drama queen, especially where Kelly’s concerned.”

I slip into silence as other hikers pass us on their way down. I’m not an exercise fanatic, but I’ll admit that it has its benefits. I’m stronger than I was last year, and have much more stamina when it comes to supernatural mind games. I’m not yet action hero material, but watch this space.

We reach the flat slab of rock near the top where most hikers stop, and Rakwena immediately starts doing push-ups. Show-off. I lie back on the rock and watch him. I still don’t understand why he bothers working out. Rakwena’s metabolism is ridiculous – he burns so much energy that he never gains weight, despite eating enough for ten people. The amount of sugar he consumes in one day would kill anyone else.

I still haven’t figured out why his body works so differently from the rest of us. He’s gifted, like me, but my body is 100% flawed human. His body is perfect. Maybe it has something to do with the blue sparks that pour out of his skin, or the chemical imbalance that requires him to inject himself with medicine every day. So many things about Rakwena are still a mystery to me.

“Should I take my shirt off?” He pauses and looks at me with a cocky grin.

“It’s not that hot.” I raise an eyebrow. “And neither are you.”

“Your lingering gaze says otherwise.” He lowers himself to the ground and lies on his stomach, resting his chin on his hands.

I look at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re the biggest freak of nature I’ve ever met, you know.”

He laughs. “Thank you.”

I inch closer to him and reach out to touch his hand, and my fingers tingle. I can’t explain this thing that happens when we touch – it doesn’t happen with anyone else. It’s as if the power in me calls to the power in him, and he can’t help but respond.

“Aren’t you even a little curious?”

His eyes narrow. “About Kelly’s boyfriend? No, not really.”

“No – about yourself.” I take a wary glance around. The other hikers aren’t close enough to hear us, but I drop my voice to a whisper. “Your gift. Your body.”

Rakwena sighs. “I’ve been living with it all my life; the novelty has worn off.”

“But you’re so…strange,” I persist. “I’ve never heard of a gifted person who is as different as you are. Look at me, look at Ntatemogolo. No weird cravings, no chemical issues, and definitely no blue sparks. I mean, how does your body even produce all that energy without damaging itself?”

Rakwena gets up with an exasperated grunt. “How many times do we have to go over this? I can’t explain these things. They just happen. You’re the one with a biologist for a father –
you
tell me.”

“I wish I could.” I sit up and study his face. There’s an angry little twitch in his jaw that tells me to drop it, but I’ve never been one to pay attention to subtle signals. “I’m no scientist, but I know enough about the human body to know that yours is different. Like a comic book mutant. Are you sure you’ve never been exposed to – ”

“Gamma radiation?” He rolls his eyes. “You’re like a skipping CD.”

“I can’t help it! You’re so interesting.” I bat my eyelashes at him, hoping the flattery will win him over. I suppose I’d get annoyed if someone kept pointing out my weird traits, but I don’t bring it up because I want to fix him. I just want to understand.

He shakes his head. “Come on – we’ve rested long enough. Wanna go to the top or head back down?”

“Let’s go back.” I stretch my arms and yawn, then get to my feet. “I have a lot of studying to do.”

Rakwena stares at me in mock amazement. “Studying? What, for exams?”

“Yep.”

“Final exams?”

I sigh. I know where this is going. “Yes, Lizard.” I only call him Lizard to annoy him, but it never has the desired effect. I suspect he finds it amusing.

“The exams that are starting in three months?”

I roll my eyes, grab his arm and pull him towards the path. “Yes,
Lizzie
.”

He laughs. Not his usual chuckle – a proper burst of doubled-over laughter. I’m not impressed. “I thought you had a last-minute cramming policy,” he says, once he’s recovered from his giggling fit.

“It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”

He snorts. “Woman? Wow, your ambition knows no bounds!”

“You’re supposed to be proud of me for changing my ways. Aren’t you the one who’s always saying I should take my school work more seriously? We have one week of school left before the holidays – I want to make it count.”

Rakwena’s arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me close, planting a kiss on the side of my head. “I
am
proud of you, Connie. I always knew there was a smart, hard working girl underneath all that slothfulness.”

I stick my tongue out at him, but as he releases me and starts the descent, my attention is on the faint tingle on my skin where his lips touched me. I’ve been a reasonably understanding girlfriend for the past few months. I’ve asked questions, I’ve nagged a little, but I haven’t gone overboard in trying to figure out the secrets of Rakwena’s powers. Nevertheless, I can’t stop thinking about it. I love the blue spark. I love the fact that with one touch I can keep him from losing control and he can make me feel invincible, but I want to know
why
.