I put on my most saccharine smile. “You forgot freckles, the monster pimple on my chin, hair that never does what it’s told, funny ears, big nose, fangtastic incisors…”
“Shut up,” says Kelly. “You’re beautiful. Lebz is just teasing, obviously.”
I know Kelly is trying to be nice, but no one wants to be told they’re beautiful by a girl who turns heads wherever she goes.
“You’ll have to get a whole new wardrobe,” she decides, finally releasing me.
“More skirts,” says Lebz, nodding. “Some decent skinny jeans.”
“A tube top or two, a slinky dress…”
A tentative knock sounds from the closed kitchen door. “Are you ladies done yet?”
That’s Wiki, the other musketeer, and the only boy in the gang. Poor baby. The second Lebz and Kelly saw me they shooed him away so they could strip and torture me, and he’s been stranded in the kitchen ever since.
“No!” Lebz calls back.
“Yes!” I snatch up my clothes and pull them on. “So I’m a late bloomer – big deal. I’m not going to start dressing like Kim Kardashian.”
“No, you’re not there yet,” says Kelly, with a forlorn glance at my behind.
I gape at her. Why did I invite these people over? Oh yes – I missed them. We’ve all been swamped lately. They’re battling through Form Six, and with my job as an assistant on the set of a TV show I’ve hardly seen them.
I march to the kitchen to let Wiki in, feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed. He enters warily, carrying a tray of chips and drinks.
“I made us some snacks. And you look great,” he adds as an afterthought, though I look exactly as I did when he entered the house.
I smile and take the tray. “You’re only supposed to say that if a girl has changed something.”
“I can never tell!” he protests. “You were attacked by the Fashion Police – I assumed some sort of makeover was inevitable.”
“We were conducting a strip-search,” Lebz giggles, helping herself to a glass of lemonade and taking a seat.
“Without a warrant,” I grumble.
Kelly laughs and plonks herself beside Wiki, who immediately slides his arm around her waist. It’s like a reflex action now. I never thought I’d see the day Wiki had a girl in hand rather than a book, but then again, a lot has changed. Two years ago Lebz was a flighty serial monogamist, Kelly and I couldn’t stand each other and Wiki was practically asexual. Now Lebz is a singleton who reads newspapers as well as gossip rags, Kelly and I are friends and Wiki has a gorgeous girlfriend.
On the other hand, some things haven’t changed. I glance at the blonde-streaked quiff on Lebz’s head. As long as I’ve known her she’s been a slave to fashion, switching up her look before I even get a chance to get used to the last one. Today she’s wearing a leather skirt and a ridiculous pair of heels, just to walk round the corner from her house to mine. Kelly, on the other hand, is wearing a cute but casual dress with sandals. It seems she’s rubbed off on Lebz and Wiki’s rubbed off on her.
I lean back in my chair. “So! Tell me all the gossip. What’s new at Syringa?”
The Syringa Institute of Excellence is the best secondary school on the planet. I left at the end of Form Five last year, while most of my peers continued to Form Six, but in my heart I’ll always be a Syringa kid.
“Well, two students pulled a Henry Marshall,” says Wiki.
I frown, trying to make sense of that statement. Henry Marshall, a well-known CEO, vanished under suspicious circumstances a few weeks ago. A security guard found his car in the Airport Junction Mall parking lot. The key was in the ignition and Marshall’s phone and briefcase were in the boot. There were also three bags of groceries on the backseat. So far the police have no leads.
I stare at Wiki in confusion. “What on earth does that mean? They disappeared?”
He shakes his head. “They left their lockers open with all their belongings inside. That’s what people call it – a Henry Marshall.”
“It’s become a thing now,” adds Kelly in disgust. “People leave their lockers open or their bags lying around to bait thieves, and then they watch from a distance to see what happens and film it all on their cameras.”
“Then they post it on YouTube,” says Lebz, whipping out her phone to show me. “It’s not just Syringa. People from other schools have done it, too. It’s really catching on.”
I wrinkle my nose in distaste. “You must be joking.”
“Unfortunately not.” Lebz fiddles with the phone. “The internet is so slow!”
“I think it’s a network problem,” says Kelly. “The last few days my phone’s been acting up, too. Even messages don’t always go through.”
“Ja, my phone, too.” I frown. “I wonder what that’s all about.”
“It’s about poor service,” says Wiki. “Have you forgotten where we live?”
Lebz gives up on her phone, tossing it back into her bag. “The whole Henry Marshall thing freaks me out. It’s like he teleported or something.”
“I’d say he was kidnapped.” Wiki absent-mindedly strokes Kelly’s hair. “Someone grabbed him while he was getting into the car, and there was no time to lock up. A shopping mall is a busy place – they didn’t want to be spotted.”
“My father is friends with the Marshalls,” says Kelly.
“And they haven’t received a ransom call or a letter,” I murmur, as the same words leave her lips. I look up to find three pairs of eyes staring at me.
“You’ve been doing that a lot,” Lebz points out.
She doesn’t know the half of it. Now that my gift has gone Blu-ray on me I find myself predicting all sorts of random things, from people’s words to news headlines. In the past it would take a premonition for me to be able to do that. Now the words just tumble out of my mouth – I don’t even know where they come from. Normally I’d go straight to my grandfather with something like this, but this is one mystery I’d like to solve on my own.
“Sorry. Occupational hazard.” I clear my throat and glance at Kelly, but apart from a thoughtful frown she seems unfazed.
An uncomfortable silence falls over the group. We still haven’t figured out how to handle supernatural matters in Kelly’s presence. Although she knows I have premonitions and has probably guessed that I’m a telepath, she doesn’t know about the Puppetmaster. While we don’t discuss sensitive issues in front of her, we take it for granted that she knows she’s not living in humdrum ungifted reality any more.
Last year she dated Spencer, a drifter from Rakwena’s cell. Drifters absorb psychic energy from ungifted people. In moderation it’s harmless, but in excess… Spencer’s powers were out of control, and he left Kelly drained and disoriented. She doesn’t know the details, but she’s a smart girl. She’s aware that Spencer and his family are different; she just doesn’t know how different.
I clear my throat. “Guys, have some more food, please.”
My suggestion seems to break the ice. We chat about safer topics for a while: school, music and movies, but there’s an undercurrent of anxiety that won’t go away. Eventually Kelly gets to her feet, sensing that we want to be alone. Despite her relationship with Wiki she seems to understand that she’s not really one of us. Lebz, Wiki and I have known each other all our lives.
“I’m