“Is she always this difficult?” he asks Lebz.
“Oh, this is Connie when she’s being nice,” she replies wryly.
“See? You’re getting along already!” I beam and offer Lebz some chocolate.
She hesitates for just a second before taking a huge bite. “Here comes Wiki.”
“Poor guy,” says Rakwena. “He looks like he’s about to drop that food.”
Wiki’s mouth is hanging open as he walks slowly towards us. He hands us our food and goes to sit at the other end of the bench, next to Rakwena.
“Hi,” he says carefully. “I’m Wiki.”
“Rakwena.”
Wiki clears his throat. Lebz and I look at each other and try not to laugh at the awkward silence that follows.
“Connie’s idea,” says Rakwena finally.
“Oh.” Wiki clears his throat again. “Well… everyone’s staring at us.”
He’s right. I didn’t notice all the eyes on campus turn in our direction. People are whispering, their expressions baffled. I know what they’re thinking: what the hell is Black Lizard doing with them? What the hell is Black Lizard doing with anyone? I can hear the wheels turning in their heads, most of them creaking loudly from lack of use. Good. Let them wonder. We’ve been unfairly prejudiced against Rakwena for years, and it’s about time we learn a little tolerance. At the very least, it would be nice if people stopped thinking of him as a former child soldier.
“Who cares?” I turn back to my friends. “Are you embarrassed?”
Wiki looks offended. “Of course not.” Yes, Wiki – I haven’t forgotten that you were the only one who knew his real name.
“Are you?” I turn to Lebz.
“No.” Yes, she is. A little.
Wiki holds his hand out to Rakwena. “Connie thinks you’re safe, so I guess you must be. Welcome to the club.”
Rakwena shakes his hand, looking amused. “There’s a club?”
“People who can tolerate Conyza Bennett,” Wiki explains. “As you can see, there aren’t many of us.”
“Hey!”
Rakwena laughs. Lebz gives him a speculative look, surprised that Black Lizard has a sense of humour. He turns his gaze on her. “What’s the verdict?” he asks. “Am I a bad influence on poor Connie?”
She smiles. It’s a real smile, too; I’m proud of her. “You’re not too bad,” she says.
I sense the ice breaking. This might work out after all.
Chapter Eight
“I’ve brought you something,” says Rose, reaching into her bag.
It’s a few minutes before seven and we’re sitting on her bench again. I’ve made a habit of passing by at just the right moment, and after a week or so we’ve become friends. “Is it edible?” I ask hopefully.
She laughs. “No.” She pulls out a thick academic-style book.
I’d better let her down gently. “Um, sweetie, I try not read textbooks unless I absolutely have to. Novels, comics – yes. Reference material, not so much.”
She laughs again. “It’s about movies. You said you love movies, right?”
“I live for movies.” I take the book from her and gaze at it. It’s the size of an encyclopaedia and it’s called The Monster Book of Modern Cinema. “This is yours?”
“My brother’s. He likes movies, too.”
“Clever boy.” I turn the book over and give an appreciative nod. “Are you lending it to me?”
“Oh, you can have it,” she says. “He bought the newest edition and gave me this one. I thought you might like it.”
I’m surprised and touched by this gesture. “Thanks, Rose.” I lean forward and give her a hug. “That was so thoughtful. I’m actually going to read it too, not just put it in my room for decoration.”
“You’re crazy,” she says, giggling. “I’ve never met anyone who’s so obsessed with movies, not even my brother.”
I shrug. “I love the idea of creating a whole world out of nothing but an idea. It’s like magic. It’s too bad we don’t have cinema as a subject.”
“So I guess you want to be an actress when you finish school?”
I frown. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about it. I have no idea what I want to do.”
“Connie!” Her eyes widen. “You only have one more year!”
“I know,” I groan, but the idea of university is rather like the idea of motherhood – something older people worry about.
“Well, there are lots of options,” she goes on. “You can study drama, or film or multimedia. It depends on whether you’d rather be in front of the camera or behind it.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I think I might study human rights law, or political science.” Her pretty face settles into a thoughtful frown. “Or international relations. Something in that area. But my friends think I should focus on getting into the media. You know, something that will make me famous.” She winces. “Fame is important to the girls.”
She always refers to them as “the girls”, almost never mentioning their names.
“They’re young,” I remind her. “I’m sure when they get older they’ll also start thinking more seriously about their careers. When you’re twelve or thirteen you have enough trouble keeping up with school and hormones.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She reaches into her shirt and fidgets absentmindedly with the chain of her necklace, and I grab my chance.
“You know we’re not allowed to wear jewellery in school, right?” I nudge her with a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
She returns my smile. “I know it’s against the rules, but it’s like a…” She searches for the right word, but can’t find it. “Well, all the girls wear them,” she concludes. “To show that we belong.”
“Can I see it?”
She hesitates, thinking of what would happen if the others found out.
“It’sOK.” I offer a reassuring smile. “If it’s private you don’t have to show me.”
“No, I don’t mind.” There’s a note of urgency in her voice. She knows as well as I do that this is a turning point. Once I’ve seen the fabled necklace there’s no going back. She slips her hand under her shirt and lifts out the necklace, glancing around to make sure nobody’s watching.
It’s a very pretty necklace, a five-petal flower on a silver chain. The locket is about the size of a large coin, delicately carved, with a blue gem in the centre. My heart starts to thud. Inside this innocent-looking locket is the key to the mystery. I don’t have to fake the admiration in my voice. “It’s beautiful. Is that real tanzanite?”
“Amantle would never wear fake bling,” she replies, quickly hiding the necklace under her shirt again.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t. And she bought one for each of you?”
She nods. “They’re made by a family friend, so she gets a special discount.”
“That’s interesting. I wonder why she picked necklaces. You could have had bracelets or rings.”
“It wasn’t planned,” she tells me. “She got hers as a birthday gift and fell in love with it, so she asked Nicola – that’s her father’s friend – to make one for Laone. Then she decided to make one for Emily, then Refilwe joined the group and she got one, then me.”
Was the necklace given to Amantle already bewitched? It doesn’t seem likely. It must have been tampered with after she decided her friends should have necklaces, too. Maybe the Puppetmaster realised that he could use the necklaces to control the girls. But that means he has to be someone she knows.
Rose glances at her watch. “Amantle will be here any minute.”
I get to my feet with a rueful smile. “Thanks again for the book, Rose. I love it.”
She beams with pleasure. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you around.”
I start towards the bench where Lebz and Wiki are waiting for my daily report.
“Conyza Bennett,” a sly voice drawls behind me.
I freeze. I know that voice. I’ve heard it many times,
but never directed at me. I turn around slowly, blood rushing past my ears. Thuli is standing there with his hands in his pockets and his eyes roving across my face. He’s not looking through me at someone behind. He’s looking at me and he knows my name. Obviously I’ve fallen asleep and slipped into a beautiful dream.
“Hi.” He smiles. It’s quite a nice smile. I don’t see it often. “I’ve been meaning to catch you alone one of these days. It’s not easy. You’re always with one of your friends.”
I blink. I can’t think clearly. I’m in shock.
“I’m Thuli.”
No, really? “I know who you are.”
“Right,” he says, in a tone implying that everyone knows him. “So, Connie. I can call you Connie, can’t I?”
“I’m surprised you know my name at all.” Where is this attitude coming from? Shouldn’t I be falling apart, stammering hopelessly?
His eyes widen in dismay. “We’ve been in the same school for years, and I know your friends quite well.”
Ah. That must be what this is about – he wants me to ask Lebz something. He knows she’ll say no if he asks her himself. “Do you want me to pass on a message?”
He shakes his head. “You’re the one I want to talk to.”
Oh dear. My bravado is melting and my brain is dissolving slowly. “About what?” My voice sounds a little breathless now. I hope he doesn’t notice.
“Everything.” He smiles again. “But school’s about to start, so… maybe we can hook up sometime.”
“Oh. Uh… OK.” Ah, there’s the stammering idiot. I knew she’d show up eventually.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, taking a step backwards. “You know, officially.” Then he walks away with a little wave.
I whirl around as fast I can so he doesn’t see the exultation on my face. Lebz is gaping at me, her eyes the size of dinner plates. Wiki has dropped his book. I make my way to them slowly and carefully, afraid I might collapse.
“Connie!” squeals Lebz in horror, or glee, or something in between. “What was that?”
“That conversation lasted three and a half minutes,” Wiki adds in disbelief. “What was he saying for that long?”
It takes me a moment to recover my senses. “He knows my name,” I whisper. “He said…” I swallow, still stunned. “He wants to hook up later and talk.”
“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?” demands Lebz. “He’s been ignoring you for years!”
“I know.” I shrug weakly. “But I caught him staring at me the other day.”
“Staring?” ask Wiki and Lebz together.
I nod. “I was with Rakwena.” I pick up an uncomfortable vibe from Wiki. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly. “I’m just wondering what he wants to talk to you about. It’s so sudden.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll find out eventually.” I take a deep breath. My heart rate has returned to normal, and I can’t hold back my smile. “I can’t believe it. He spoke to me!”
“I’m happy for you.” Lebz squeezes my hand. “But I don’t think you should get too excited. Let’s hear what he has to say first.”
Too late; I’m already excited. Here I was giving up on the guy and finally, finally he notices me. I’ve waited three years for his attention and my patience has been rewarded. My hands travel up to my fae, then round to my hair. Suddenly I feel self-conscious. “Lebz?”
“Ja?”
“I think it’s time to do something about my hair.”
I spend my lunch hour sitting with Lebz, paging through magazines she borrowed from Kelly. It’s amazing what you can get from that girl. Tampons, painkillers, nail polish remover, bronzer – yes, bronzer, for highlighting certain body parts when you have a date behind the school shed. I don’t have much faith in the lighting over there, but you’ll get an A for effort.
“Ooh, what about this?” Lebz points at a woman whose head resembles a pineapple.
“I thought you were my friend.”
“OK, this one.”
I peer at the picture. “I don’t want to look like wallpaper or patterned stockings.”
Lebz lets out an exasperated sigh. “Connie, you don’t know what you want.”
I glance at her hair; very thin chestnut braids. I hate braids. I don’t like having my hair trapped. “Can’t I just iron it straight or something?”
Her face lights up. “Yes! Why didn’t I think of that?”
Wiki sighs into his book. Rakwena approaches, sipping a can of Fanta. “What’s going on?” he asks Wiki. “They look more excited than usual.”
“Connie’s unrequited love is now requited,” says Wiki, without raising his head.
Rakwena turns to me, a bemused look on his face. “Is that some kind of code?”
I stick out my tongue at him. “Don’t you have small children to frighten?”
“She’s nervous,” says Lebz, flipping through the magazine. “Her one true love has finally made his first move and she needs an extreme makeover to win his heart.”
Rakwena blinks. “Does nobody speak English any more? What one true love?”
Lebz looks up. There’s a sly look in her eyes that puts me on my guard. “She hasn’t told you? You guys have spent so much time together and you don’t know about the guy she’s been in love with for three years?”
I shoot her a warning glance.
Rakwena stares at me in confusion. “You have a boyfriend?”
“Not yet, but soon enough,” Lebz replies in a sing-song voice.
I snatch the magazine and hit her with it. “Don’t mind her,” I tell Rakwena. “She’s an imbecile.”
Lebz laughs and Wiki chuckles behind his book. Traitors. I turn my attention back to Rakwena, but he’s already on the move. “I’ll see you guys later,” he says, and slinks off to his favourite spot.
“Did you see the look on his face?” gasps Lebz. “Poor guy. You shouldn’t keep secrets from your friends, Connie.”
“Shut up,” I snap irritably. “We never got around to talking about those things.”
“Uh-huh.” Lebz takes back the magazine. “I wonder why.”
After school Lebz and I head to her house so she can practise hairstyles on me.
“Ouch,” I mutter as she pulls my virgin hair through a ceramic straightening iron.
“Don’t be such a baby,” she chides, and proceeds to burn the top of my ear.
Twenty minutes later I look in the mirror and gasp. I look like… well, like other girls. My dark brown hair hangs down my shoulders in a sleek sheet, framing my face.
“You look so pretty,” Lebz gushes with pride. “All you need now is some proper earrings.”
I finger the silver studs in my ears. I know what her idea of “proper” is, and I want nothing to do with it. “Thanks, Lebz.”
“Just try not to get it wet, okay? Tie it up when you take a bath, otherwise I’ll have to iron it all over again.”
I wince. I can’t believe people go through this every day, not to mention make-up and clothes. Who has that kind of time? “Why am I doing this again?”
“Because Thuli likes KIA girls and KIA girls iron their hair.” Lebz packs up her tools. “You’d better get going. I’m supposed to cook today and I have to get started.”
I get up and turn from side to side, examining my new look. I hope I’m not going to have to keep it up – I want to make an impression on Thuli, but I also want him to like Connie, not some girl who used to be Connie.
Dad is already home when I walk into the house, sitting in front of the PC. The light from the screen is reflected in his glasses and he sits hunched in his chair. I peer over his shoulder. He’s working on something for the Salinger Biological Institute, a US-run organisation that does scientific research in Africa. It all goes over my head; all I know – and all I care about – is that their projects pay well.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hello, love.” He turns around and the smile freezes on his face. “Wh
at happened to your hair?”
“I thought it was time for a change,” I reply, flicking my hair over my shoulder. “What do you think?”
“It’s nice. You’ve never been interested in changing your look, though.”
I lift my shoulders in a casual shrug and drop my bag on the dining table. “I’m a teenager. We like to experiment.”
“Let’s have a look, then.” I come closer for inspection. “Is there something you want to tell me?” he asks when he’s done.
“Something like what?” I walk past him into the kitchen and open the fridge.
“You’re not… this is not because of… a boy, is it?”
How does my father know me so well? “A boy? Dad, of course not!” I laugh for good measure.
“Are you sure? You can tell me. You’re sixteen, you’re growing up.” He’s out of his chair now and watching me from the doorway. The idea of me doing anything as unpredictable as falling for someone terrifies him. He licks his lips and frowns. “But we can talk about it. We can talk about anything.”
No, Dad – not quite anything. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s just hair.” I select the ingredients for a sandwich and turn to offer him a reassuring smile.
“OK. If you say so.” He approaches warily as if scared I might be contagious, then reaches out and touches the ends of my hair. “It’s pretty. But you were already pretty, you know.”
I laugh. “I think you might be biased.”
“A little,” he confesses with a yawn.
“Long day?”
“You have no idea. I think my students are getting more stupid every year – you should have seen their assignments!” He cringes. “I don’t know what they teach them in secondary before they palm them off on us. And then there’s the research report I’m doing for Salinger…” He sighs. “But right now, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”
“I second that motion,” I tell him, nodding. “You look knackered.”
Dad grins, amused as always by my use of a British expression. “I am that, love.” He kisses my forehead. “See you in the morning.”
“Night.” When he’s gone I run my fingers through my hair and wonder what I’m going to tell him when I finally do have a boyfriend. Maybe that day will come sooner than either of us expected. I replay my conversation with Thuli and smile.
Entwined Page 10
