Cheryl Ntumy - Unravelled

“How is she?”

“She’ll live to torment me,” I assure him, keeping my annoyance in check. I don’t want to fight in front of Wiki. “The nurse thinks she partied too hard.”

His eyes narrow. “And what do you think?”

“I’m not sure.” I turn to Wiki. “Ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready since I got here,” he quips, and the three of us make our way to Rakwena’s car.

Rakwena doesn’t say much until he’s taken Wiki home and it’s just the two of us. He parks outside my gate and peers into my face. “You’re upset. Is it Thuli? Did he – ”

I pull the crumpled P200 note from my pocket and slap it onto the dashboard. “Money-back guarantee from Tshiamo. By the way, he doesn’t like doing business with crazy, jealous boyfriends.”

Rakwena stares at the money and says nothing.

“Are you going to explain why you felt the need to hire me a bodyguard without my permission?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He takes the money, unfolds it carefully and puts it in the glove compartment. “I was worried Thuli might – ”

“No, you were worried I’d talk to the Cresta Crew. Tshiamo told me.”

I see his jaw tense in the dim light. “Yes. I’m worried about them, too. You said you’d stay out of trouble. You promised, and then you went to a party where you’d be exposed to one freak hunter and six undefined threats, so I took protective measures.”

“You’re not my father!” I sigh. “Honestly, you can’t do stuff like that. And if you were so worried, why didn’t you gate-crash the way you did at Thuli’s party?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds sincere. “I overreacted. It won’t happen again.” He’s got his cool, calm mask up, and I can’t tell what he’s really feeling.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” I assure him. “I’m fine. I’m much more concerned about Kelly. There’s something about that boyfriend of hers. His friends, too.”

“Wiki says you think they’re gifted.”

“Oh, I know they are.” I release the buckle of my seatbelt so I can turn to face him properly. “Spencer’s relationship with Kelly bothers me. It’s so intense. It’s not like her at all. Duma seems like the friendliest of the group. I need to talk to him again.”

“Again?” Rakwena blurts out, eyes wide. “You spoke to one of them?”

I recoil. “Relax, we barely said two sentences to each other. His cousin Elias interrupted. What’s your problem, anyway?”

He has that look on his face, the one he gets when he doesn’t approve of my tactics. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. After the Puppetmaster and Thuli…” He sighs. “Look, maybe Kelly did just drink too much, and Spencer had nothing to do with it.”

“And maybe I’m not really a telepath – I just have an overactive imagination,” I retort, with a tinge of annoyance. “I know what I saw. Those guys are dangerous!”

The mask slides back on and his expression is as inscrutable as ever. “Fine.” He hesitates. “Just don’t go looking for trouble, OK?”

I poke him hard in the ribs and he winces. “Aren’t you the one who wanted me to take an active interest in these things?”

“Yes, but – ”

“Then stop complaining.” I glance towards the house. “I should go make sure Dad hasn’t fallen asleep on the sofa again.”

He leans forward to kiss me. “Can I come by tomorrow?”

“I’ll think about it,” I tease, before jumping out of the car.

I wish he’d relax; I’m not the one in trouble. I chain the gate and put on a padlock before hurrying up the driveway. I’m concerned about Kelly. Instead of graduating from bad boys with trust funds to bad boys with powers, she should find someone trustworthy and loyal. But I guess not everyone can be as lucky as me.

***

“Kelly’s fine,” says Lebz with a sigh. She’s sprawled across my bed, while I’m in the chair at my desk. “I went over this morning to check on her.”

I turn away from my game of Spider Solitaire. “What did she say?”

Lebz makes a face. “She said she drank too much.”

“Hmm. Nothing about her boyfriend leaving her passed out in a storeroom?”

She shakes her head, making her ridiculous dangly earrings jingle. “Maybe she asked him to leave because she was embarrassed about being so drunk.”

I snort – Kelly doesn’t get embarrassed, not even when she should.

“Anyway, Spencer was really drunk, too,” adds Lebz.

He did look rather wasted. Maybe that was why his buddies were so unimpressed, and why they got him out of there in such a hurry. I have to admit, it does look like a simple case of overindulgence. Except for one thing. I turn my chair to face Lebz. “If Kelly wasn’t in danger, why did I have that premonition?”

Lebz props herself up on her elbows and looks at me. “Maybe it was because Amantle and I were worried. You know sometimes your premonitions are triggered by other people’s emotions.”

I shake my head. “I sensed that she was in danger. Something’s not adding up.”

“Well, if something happened, Kelly’s not telling.” She sits up. “As long as she’s OK, I’m happy.”

“Get me Spencer’s number.”

Lebz blinks. I raise an eyebrow at her.

“No,” she says firmly. “I don’t want to piss Kelly off.”

I roll my eyes. Sometimes my best friend can be supremely naïve. “She doesn’t have to know. Just make some excuse to see her phone, go through her contacts, and get the number. Easy.”

She swallows hard, unease coming off her in waves. As much as she wants to find out whether her beloved Kelly is in danger, she’s not eager to get involved in another supernatural battle. Lebz likes to keep her feet on the ground, in expensive shoes, and far away from things that might give her nightmares.

“It was your idea for me to investigate,” I remind her mercilessly.

“I know,” she mutters. “I’ll see what I can do.”

***

During the week, Rakwena and I go to Game City to watch an afternoon movie. We don’t do a lot of normal date stuff like other couples, but I like that about us. I wouldn’t have said that a year ago, when I was doing everything I could to pretend I was normal. That was before I became a telepath, before Rakwena. Now normal is a sad little dream I’ve finally woken up from.

I want to watch a thriller, Rakwena wants to watch a political drama, so we settle on a comedy. It’s not bad – the parts we actually watch, that is. Rakwena tries not to laugh out loud while I sift through the thoughts of the guy sitting two rows in front of us. I know I shouldn’t, but the poor man seems to have a mini heart attack every time the pretty female lead makes an appearance.

When the film is over, Rakwena wraps his arm around my shoulder as we leave the cinema. I push him away self-consciously. I’m not one for public displays of affection. Instead of being offended, he laughs and ruffles my hair. The heel of his palm brushes the top of my ear, and I feel the tingle all the way to my toes.

“Coward,” he whispers.

“And proud of it.”

The retort I expected never comes. Rakwena stiffens beside me. I turn to see the cause of his discomfort. The Cresta Crew are sitting at a table at KFC, all six pairs of eyes trained on us. Honestly, didn’t anyone teach them that staring is bad manners? I wave to ease the tension, but not one of them responds – not even sweet little Duma. That’s when I realise that they can’t even see me. All their attention is on Rakwena. I look up at him. His jaw twitches as he wrenches his gaze away from them.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests, through gritted teeth.

“Wait. This might be my best chance to talk to them.” I start towards the fast food outlet and Rakwena’s hand closes fiercely over my arm like a Venus flytrap over its prey. I wince. “Hey, that hurts.”