Lebz rubs my arm. “He’s probably just dealing with family stuff. Stop worrying. Come on. We should be early for the first day of the year,” she says, linking her arm through mine. “Besides, apparently there’s a hot transfer student.”
I roll my eyes and pick my bag off the back of one of the chairs.
“You should be happy,” she tells me, with a haughty toss of her blonde braids. “At least I’m aiming for someone in the same age group.”
As we walk to school, it feels like nothing has changed. We’ve been taking this walk for years, meeting up with Wiki, sitting on our bench. It’s strange to think that one day it’ll be over.
Wiki’s also bright and early today, and he already has his nose buried in a book. Lebz and I saw him when he got back last week. He’s changed the frame of his glasses, but otherwise he’s exactly the same, sitting in his usual spot on our usual bench. The only odd thing about this picture is the stranger in jeans and a white cap. As Lebz and I approach he gets to his feet and my stomach turns over. Oh, Thank God. Then the relief seeps into the ground and the anger sets in.
“I’m going to kill you!” I shriek, flinging myself at Rakwena and pounding his chest with my fists. “Where the hell have you been?”
He laughs, fending off my blows. “Ouch! Connie, stop it! I’m sorry, OK! My phone was stolen and – Ow! – I’ve only just got a new one. Ouch – hey – Connie!”
“Do you have any idea how worried I was? After everything we went through?”
“Sorry!”
I punch him once more for good measure, then collapse on the bench. “Hi, Wiki.”
“Hello, Connie.” He and Lebz are watching me with amused expressions.
Rakwena sits beside me, grinning as if he’s done nothing wrong. “It’s good to see you, Bennett,” he says, ruffling my fluffy ponytail. “Happy New Year.”
I glare at him. “Where were you?”
“Didn’t Lebz tell you? I was in Rustenburg.”
My anger dissipates and I turn to him, concerned. “Everything OK?”
He shrugs. “A little family drama. Nothing I can’t handle.”
I frown, trying to decipher this coded message. “But everyone’s fine, right?”
“Ja, everyone’s great.”
There’s a funny note in his voice, but I’m not going to push the matter in front of Lebz and Wiki. The truth is, I’m so glad to see him again that I don’t want to waste time arguing. I can’t believe I missed that cocky grin.
“I think I might miss this place,” he says, stretching his long legs and glancing around the campus. “You kids should enjoy your youth. It passes so quickly.”
The rest of us groan, then I get to my feet, unable to wait a moment longer. “Want to go for a walk? We need to catch up.”
“School starts in ten minutes,” he reminds me, but he rises anyway. “I’ll see you guys around. Try to stay out of trouble this year, for a change.”
“Excuse me?” snorts Lebz. “Our lives were uneventful before you came along!”
“It’s true,” says Wiki, with a sage nod.
Rakwena just chuckles and waves, and the two of us walk towards the old Science lab, our “usual place”. “You’ve got me alone now,” he says softly. “Is it time for the interrogation?”
I’m a little hurt by his tone, but Rakwena has never been an open book. “I’m just worried. What’s going on? You said something about family drama.”
“Ag, it’s nothing. My aunts are being difficult.” He keeps his gaze focused straight ahead and his hands in his pockets. He looks nonchalant, but I know better.
“Is your mother OK?”
His brief hesitation is answer enough. “She’ll be fine.”
I touch his arm and feel the delicious tingle of his power. It feels so good I want to disappear into it. “What happened? A relapse?”
“No, not really.” He scrunches up his face, trying to find the right words. “She’s just been… Anxious. She’ll be fine.”
“Anxious about what?”
“Connie!”
“I thought we were past all this secrecy,” I snap, irritated by his reticence. “I thought dealing with sorcerers together would build a bond of trust, but maybe not.”
“Don’t be difficult.” He turns his wounded-soldier charm on me. “I haven’t seen you in ages. Can’t we just hang out?”
I relent. What else am I going to do? There isn’t enough time to discuss this, anyway. “What are you going to do with yourself until UB opens in August?”
He toys with a leaf, making it do little pirouettes in the air. “I’ve been offered a full-time position at the shop. I start today, actually. In about an hour.”
“Full-time?” Panic. “Like, all day, every day?”
“Yep.”
“When are we supposed to see each other?” I bark, furious with him for accepting the offer without telling me.
“At the weekend, or after hours.”
“That’s it?” I’ve gotten used to seeing him at school every day, and now I’m supposed to be satisfied with weekends?
“Really, Connie.” He releases the leaf and it flutters to the ground. “Anyone would think we were more than friends, the way you’re acting.”
That hits me like a smack across the face. “What?” I splutter. “You know I just… I mean… we need to work on our powers and… you know… stick together. For safety.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Safety?”
I nod, even though my face is hot and I know I sound like an idiot.
There’s that grin again. “You want me,” he says, and he’s only half-joking.
My heart starts pounding for no good reason, and my stomach soon joins in the rebellion. Traitors. “You wish!” I retort. “You were the one who grabbed me in the Puppetmaster’s house, in case you forgot. I was the one begging you to stop!”
His grin vanishes, and so does his relaxed, playful demeanour. Now he’s back in his armour, face shut up, eyes cold, and I realise I’ve said the worst possible thing. His voice is a whisper. “I don’t blame you for not forgiving me.”
An impatient groan escapes my lips. “Don’t start with all that nonsense. You weren’t yourself; there’s nothing to forgive! I shouldn’t have brought it up. You were just being so annoying!”
“You should get going,” he says. “We’ll talk later.”
“Rakwena, wait –” But he’s already taking long, quick strides towards the parking lot. Me and my big stupid mouth.
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.
&nb
sp; 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.
Entwined Page 28
