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!”
“Eish, Connie, where do you live?” she demands irritably. “Everybody knows about these girls. There are five of them, and Amantle runs the clique. It’s a whole process – interviews and all.”
Wiki catches my eye. We both snicker, then take note of Lebz’s glare and pull ourselves together.
“You have to have the right background, hobbies, everything. If Amantle likes you, she gives you a necklace and you’re in.”
Oh, dear. “A necklace?”
“Some fancy silver thing with a big rock on it,” says Lebz. “Apparently Amantle had them custom-made.”
Signs, as my grandfather put it. A necklace can serve as an amulet, especially if it has some sort of charm or locket on it. Could Amantle’s VIP bling be sign number one?
07:30
“The number you have dialled is not available. Please try again later.”
Hey Rakwena, we meeting at break or lunch?
Sender: Conyza
Sent: 08:15:24
OK. Lunch.
Sender: Conyza
Sent: 10:35:50
13:55
“The number you have dialled is not available. Please try again later.”
When I get home, Auntie Lydia has set out the ingredients for spaghetti and mincemeat.
“Yummy,” I declare, dropping my bag on the dining table.
“You’re cooking,” she tells me. “Will you manage?” She always does this, as if I haven’t been cooking for years, and then she ends up doing half the work, anyway.
“Sure.” I smile on my way to my room. When I return in my home clothes, vegetables are chopped and water is coming to the boil in a large pot.
“I got hungry,” she says, grinning over her shoulder. “But you can handle the meat. Not too much salt, and remember –”
“Just a dash of pepper.” I wash my hands and take my place at the counter. I like cooking with Auntie Lydia. I suppose it’s similar to what cooking with my mother would have been like, although I doubt my mother would have been quite so strict about sticking to the recipe.
Back in the day Auntie Lydia would sit and eat with me, and ask about school. But now she has her own kids to look after, so she’s out of the house by five-thirty, clutching a Tupperware dish and rushing away in flurry of skirts.
After supper I make an unsuccessful attempt to study Maths, then resort to my tried and tested distraction – movies.
I select the first instalment of The Lord of the Rings – that should keep my mind off Lizard for a while. But the hobbits haven’t even left the Shire before I’m reaching for my phone again. I take a deep breath. Control yourself, Connie! Maybe he’s busy. Or out of town. Or sick. I’m not sure about that last one. People like us don’t get sick often. The only ailment I ever suffer from is indigestion.
I stare into Frodo’s innocent eyes. Poor kid has no clue what he’s getting into. He inherits a ring and suddenly his world turns upside down. Yep, all it takes is a ring, or a headache, or a guy with a lizard tattoo…
I wish Lizard were a normal guy, then I wouldn’t care what he did. I wish I were a normal girl. I wish I could ignore the supernatural, shrug it off, pretend it doesn’t matter. What Lizard doesn’t understand is that the gifted have to stick together. It’s the only way we can protect the people we care about. It’s the only way we can protect ourselves.
Later that night I’m woken by the sound of Dad’s voice. I sit up and peer at the clock on my bedside table. It’s almost eleven-thirty. At first I think I might have been dreaming, then I hear his voice again and I get out of bed.
He can’t possibly have visitors. My dad isn’t a social butterfly, but he has a steady group of friends, all teachers and scientists. They meet up in town or at Wendell’s house – Wendell’s the only childless one in the group, so his bachelor pad is the perfect place to watch serious science shows like Dad’s favourite, Earth Unravelled.
I tiptoe to my door, open it and stick my head into the corridor. I can’t quite
