Entwined

I look him straight in the eye. I’m in no mood for games. “You can block me, just like my grandfather.”

To my surprise, he smiles. “You noticed. It took you long enough.”

“What?” Honestly, this guy is going to drive me crazy! “Why didn’t you just tell me? You are different!”

His eyes narrow as he looks at me. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!” I’m exasperated by his nonchalant attitude. How can he not care about something like this? Hasn’t he felt the way I’ve felt all my life? Strange, uncomfortable? Alone? “What can you do?”

He shakes his head and looks at his hands. They’re big hands, strong and dark, with enough lines zigzagging across them to give a palm reader a headache. I’ve never seen hands like that before. I wonder what they’ve done, what kind of magic flows out of them. Without thinking, I reach out and place my palm over his. My hand looks weak and pale in comparison. Just before he pulls away I feel something like an electric shock.

“Tell me,” I whisper. “Please.”

He shakes his head, and I finally lose my temper.

“You are such a bloody hypocrite!” I hiss. I glance over my shoulder and lower my voice. “All that talk about how I should be proud of the things that make me unique! You just came out of nowhere and stuck your nose in my business and found out my secrets, and now you don’t even have the guts to share yours!”

He recoils as if I’ve hurt him, and then, just to throw me off, he says, “You’re right.”

I have no idea what to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut and wait for him to continue. There’s nothing more frustrating than trying to fight with someone and having them surrender without even throwing a punch.

“You’ve been very open with me, and I should return the favour.” He takes a deep breath before going on. “I am different. Not like you, but… not like the others, either. And there are things… that I can do.”

“Like?”

He looks around us. “You want a public demonstration? I’ll show you at school tomorrow.”

I can’t hide my excitement, even though I know I should play it cool. “You swear?”

He laughs, rolling his eyes. “Take my number, since you clearly don’t trust me.”

We exchange phone numbers, then I lean back into the chair, satisfied, and peer into his face. “Can you tell me what it is? Your gift?”

“Be patient!” He looks at me and shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

“And the other thing?”

“What other thing?”

I reach out and touch his hand and he pulls away, just like the last time. “That! That… whatever it is. Did you feel it?”

He pulls himself up, unfolding like a deck chair, and towers over me. “You should get back to your friends. I have to go, anyway.”

I leap to my feet. “Just tell me about the spark thing. What is it?”

There’s a mischievous edge to his smile. “You mean this?” He runs a finger down my bare forearm, and I swear I see sparks jump between my skin and his. It’s strangely pleasant, and I’m surprised by the realisation that I want to feel it again.

“Yes, that!” I look up at him in wonder. “What is it? Is it something to do with your… you know…?”

He shrugs, flashes that smug smile of his and starts to walk away. “It’s probably just overactive hormones. Yours, naturally.”

It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s implying, and by the time I get it he’s already heading for the escalator. Ugh! Could he be more conceited? As if I could ever be remotely attracted to someone like him! Not while Thuli lives and breathes, and not even if he didn’t.

I walk back to the cinema, rubbing my arm, and take my seat.

“You took forever!” Lebz hisses.

“Sorry. Long queue.”

I sit back and pretend to watch the rest of the movie, but my mind is far away. I can’t wait until tomorrow. I have no idea what to expect. Maybe he can levitate, or change shape, or fly. Don’t get sceptical; anything’s possible. People don’t like things they can’t put into neatly labelled boxes, but every day another barrier is broken. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not to underestimate anything – or anyone.

Chapter Four

Lebz lets out a strangled cry as we walk through the school gates. Wiki and I turn to her in dismay.

“What’s wrong?”

“Amantle got a lift with Kelly again,” she snaps, glaring daggers at a car in the parking lot.

Kelly’s stepping out of the back seat and right behind her is a pretty, younger girl who looks slightly familiar.

I turn to Lebz. “And this is a problem because?”

Because Amantle is a two-faced witch, says Lebz’s mind, while her lips remain resolutely pursed.

Ouch. Such venom seems unwarranted. “She’s just a kid.”

Lebz turns on me. “Ja – a kid dating the nineteen-year-old son of a minister! She’s mean, slutty and stuck up but Kelly thinks she’s an angel.”

Wiki and I exchange glances. I take another look at the girl. She doesn’t look like a vixen. I’m more concerned about the influence Kelly will have on her. I’m about to leap to her defence when something in Lebz’s train of thought catches me off guard. “Hold on – is she one of the girls from Ma-fourteen?” No wonder she looks so familiar! She’s that Amantle, leader of the tween pack. “She goes to Syringa?” I ask in wonder.

“She’s in Form One,” says Wiki. “She’s only been here a few months.”

“And she looks different with clothes on,” sneers Lebz.

I hate to say it, but she has a point. Amantle looks like another person in her demure school shirt and knee-length skirt. She looks her age for one thing, and her expression, though guarded, is definitely more animated than the last time I saw her. I watch her say goodbye to Kelly and then meet up with another girl, whom I recognise as another member of the Ma-fourteen club.

“The rest of them are still at Hillside with my sister,” Lebz explains.

My ears prick up. “Really?”

Lebz heaves an impatient sigh. “I’ve told you that, but you never listen!”

Well, I’m listening now. It’s been a while since I talked to Lebz’s little sister. Maybe I should take her out for ice cream and pump her for information. “Is Kenaleone friends with them?”

“Of course not. You join by invitation only.”

I laugh, but the look on her face tells me she’s not joking. “Come on. It’s primary school!”