Misty Falls

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Misty Falls Page 11

by Joss Stirling


  I wriggled into my skirt. ‘Fine. Quiet, really.’

  ‘No major Misty moments?’

  ‘No, I’ve done well. No one is going to notice the ladder in my tights are they?’ I pivoted to show the run high up on my thigh.

  Summer made no answer.

  ‘Oh well. I don’t have another pair.’ I slipped my feet into black pumps. ‘The exercises Zed taught me have helped and I’m learning not to put myself in situations where I usually mess up.’ Except for tonight. ‘You?’

  Summer didn’t have a happy home life. She smiled bravely. ‘Oh, same old, you know.’

  We did know, and we also understood that she didn’t want to talk about it now and spoil her evening. She only told us the tip of the iceberg of what went on and that was bad enough.

  ‘Angel?’

  Our friend was outlining her exotically slanted eyes with kohl. ‘Nothing much to report. Total boy wasteland. I’ve had a few gigs locally. There’s a band that likes bringing me in as female vocalist.’ She grinned. ‘They even pay me.’

  ‘That’s great. What are they called?’

  ‘You wouldn’t have heard of them. Seventh Edition.’

  ‘Why that name?’

  ‘Because their lead singer is a walking ego-in-jeans and falls out with so many of his band mates that they are now on their seventh line-up.’ She paused to apply lipgloss. ‘I doubt they’ll make it before they reach their century.’ She zipped up her cosmetics bag. ‘How do I look?’ She was wearing a silk swing dress in mint that went well with her honey blonde hair. The just-above-knee hemline flirted with her legs as she walked in her heels, doing the hand-on-hip catwalk slouch.

  ‘That really works,’ said Summer.

  Angel raised a brow at me.

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘And what about me?’ Summer stood up to show her jacquard fabric dress in white with blue flowers.

  ‘Perfect.’ I stood between my two friends, feeling very plain in my black on black ensemble. Summer met my gaze in the mirror. Both of us were nervous. It always was an outside chance, meeting a savant in the right age band, but the bubbles in the stomach, slight shiver came anyway.

  Thank you, she said privately. I know you wanted to keep him to yourself.

  How did you know that? I’d suspected that she had rumbled me, so I wasn’t surprised.

  Misty, I’ve been your friend now for years; I know when my friend is interested in a guy. You get this—sorry, but it’s true—dreamy look in your eyes.

  I already had reason to know that I did not have a poker face but it was distressing to find I was broadcasting my feelings so loudly. Summer, if he’s yours …

  He could be yours.

  He could be no one’s—in the room, I mean. If he’s yours, I’ll be really pleased for you both. At least, I’d try hard to make that true so I wasn’t lying.

  Same here. Summer picked up her clutch bag. ‘Ready?’

  The debate organizers had me handing around drinks on a tray, not the world’s most glamorous assignment but at least it allowed me to mingle. The delegation from India had just arrived, looking amazing in their colourful saris and tunics. I chatted for a moment with one of them, finding out that they were from Amritsar. A couple of Cambridge Union students came over to welcome them so I moved on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Angel in the middle of the American debate team, an all-male affair from Dallas. The Texans appeared thoroughly enchanted with their pocket-sized English girl with her swinging hair and expansive hand movements. Like a humming bird at a sugar feeder, Angel couldn’t keep still. The Danish champions—four stunning girls—were being chatted up by my school team. Not a chance, boys. As yet, no South Africans.

  Uriel entered, Tarryn on his arm. Wouldn’t be long now.

  I put down my tray to give them both a hug. ‘Hi. How was the journey?’

  ‘Great, thanks.’ Tarryn squeezed my hand, telling me subtly that she hadn’t forgotten my text. ‘How’ve you been?’

  ‘Quite good. Not done anything too embarrassing yet this term.’ For honesty’s sake I felt I had to add the ‘yet’. This was exactly the kind of situation—lots of people making small talk stuffed full of insincerity—that I could ruin. ‘Any progress on catching the killer, Uri?’

  He took a drink from my tray. ‘Some, but not enough. We’ve narrowed down the kind of gifts that attract our suspect. I’ll tell you more about it when this is over. This isn’t the place.’

  ‘No, and I’m supposed to be serving. See you later then.’ I whirled off with my tray, eyes sliding to the door every other second.

  Angel and Summer found me restocking my drinks at the bar and offloading the empties.

  ‘Aren’t they here yet?’ asked Angel.

  There was a flurry of activity by the entrance as a new team signed in with Tony on reception. Tony, bless him, was a little chubby guy so they dwarfed him. ‘They are now.’

  Alex. My heart did a strange tumble-turn fall in my chest.

  Three months had passed since I’d last seen him, but it felt longer. He was a stranger again, no smile in his expression. In contrast, his friends looked really pleased to be there: pinning on their name badges, joking with Tony, and glancing into the big room where the reception was being held. Michael saw me and waved.

  ‘They’re coming our way.’ I felt a twit standing there with a tray so I rested it on the bar and turned to greet him. ‘Hi, Michael. Lovely to see you again.’

  He kissed my cheek. ‘Howzit, Misty?’

  ‘I’m good.’

  ‘You’re looking great as ever.’

  Odd. That didn’t register as a lie.

  Hugo and Phil followed, though they both went for a hug that lifted my feet off the ground. They enjoyed my squeak of surprise. Alex glowered at his friends and sidetracked to Uriel.

  ‘What’s up with him?’ I asked Hugo.

  ‘Jealous.’ Hugo grinned.

  ‘Of what?’

  Hugo just shrugged. ‘Work it out.’

  ‘I don’t …’ Angel nudged me, reminding me I didn’t have time to ponder Alex’s behaviour. ‘Sorry, Hugo, these are my friends, Angel and Summer.’

  ‘I think you mentioned them before when we went for the cable-car ride,’ said Hugo, treating them both to his million-dollar smile. Or maybe that should be rand? ‘I’m Hugo.’

  ‘Full marks for memory,’ said Summer.

  My school friend Hafsa came over with her empty tray, her merry, round face alive with curiosity. She had changed her usually colourful hijab for a black one so at least she joined me in looking like a ninja warrior in our dark outfits.

  ‘And this is Hafsa.’ If I stood here any longer the entire waitressing staff would be clustered in our corner. Yep, I was right. Hot on Hafsa’s heels was Annalise, her ginger bob a shade or two darker than Phil’s colouring. ‘And, what do you know, here comes Annalise.’

  Hugo, Phil, and Michael smiled round at the cluster of English girls. I beckoned to Summer to get out from their midst, leaving the others to complete the introductions.

  ‘Shall I take you to Alex?’ I whispered, the glasses on my tray clanking as I pushed our way through the crowds.

  She gulped. ‘OK. Let’s do it.’

  As we approached, Tarryn looked up. You want to try this now? she asked doubtfully. Alex had his back to us and couldn’t see us coming.

  Summer here is the right age too, closer than me, and she’s only here this weekend. I thought I should, you know …

  OK, I’ll remove Uri from the mix. She gave her soulfinder a single glance and he quickly finished what he was saying to Alex and made an excuse to move on. Alex stood alone for a second then swivelled round to locate his friends. Instead he found us.

  ‘Hi.’ My voice sounded rubbish, weedy and the opposite of sultry. ‘Alex, how are you?’

  ‘Nervous.’ He took a Coke off my tray.

  ‘Really?’ Did he know the reason we had approached him? ‘Why are you nervous?’

&
nbsp; He gave me an odd look. ‘The competition starts tomorrow.’

  ‘Right. Yes. Of course it does.’ Summer stepped on my toe. ‘Alex, I’d like you to meet my friend, Summer.’ How to broach the subject? ‘I know her from youth camp.’ He should be able to guess she was a savant from that.

  He found a smile for her that had been lacking for me. ‘Pleased to meet you, Summer.’

  ‘And you.’ Summer repositioned her clutch bag across her stomach, fingers playing with the clasp. ‘Misty’s told me a lot about you.’

  He looked surprised. ‘She has? What does she know about me?’ My ‘let’s-be-blunt’ zone must have affected him again as he clearly hadn’t meant to include that last sentence.

  This was too painful. I wasn’t one to tiptoe around a subject; I went for the blurting-out-the-truth approach that was Misty standard.

  ‘Alex, we didn’t get to discuss this in Cape Town, but you know I’m a savant. Summer is too. Like you.’

  He glanced around. Savants weren’t supposed to go around announcing this in public places; our presence among the ordinary population was kept on a need-to-know basis. ‘Misty, maybe we should … ’

  I had to get it off my chest or I would chicken out. ‘There’s more. I found out that your birthday is mid-December. That puts you in the possible range for both Summer and me.’

  ‘You mean, you’re the same age as me, not a year younger?’

  ‘School years are different here. They run from September, not January.’

  ‘I didn’t think of that.’ And from the look on his face the news was not welcome.

  ‘So we thought, Summer and I, that we should just check that we aren’t … ’ My voice trailed away as a deep sense of unhappiness took over. I was going about this all wrong. The glasses on my tray began to shudder.

  Summer sensed I was close to meltdown and took over. ‘ … Check that we aren’t soulfinders. Obviously, we know it is a huge outside chance but there aren’t so many opportunities to meet other savants our age from your country so, why not?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘Why not? Yes, let’s try.’ He took Summer’s hand. ‘Telepathy?’

  She laughed, clearly feeling awkward that he had ignored me even though I was the one who had introduced us. Then again, I was carrying a tray. I looked for somewhere to leave it but a guest came over and dumped his empty on it; I had to juggle to keep hold. I looked down at the ice cubes left at the bottom of the drained glass. They had slumped into hard pellets marooned with a chewed lemon slice.

  Silence—then laughter.

  Summer patted her chest. I imagined her heart was pounding—mine certainly was. ‘Oh well, it’s nice meeting you, Alex, even so. Sorry to hurry you into it. Misty and I have had months to wind each other up after we found out so forgive us for dumping it on you the moment you arrived.’

  ‘I don’t blame you for trying.’ His voice was warm now, maybe even relieved. ‘It’s like Prince Charming going round with the slipper.’

  That made Summer laugh even louder. ‘Not a flattering comparison but I know what you mean.’

  He shook his head. ‘I didn’t intend to suggest you were … well, you know. The story is that he tries all the ladies in the land, not just Cinderella’s family. In this case we’re both the prince with our savant slipper waiting for the one that fits.’ His eyes took on the same deep blue as her dress; it was a crime against perfection that they hadn’t matched.

  ‘So will you try with Misty now?’ asked Summer, turning to smile encouragingly at me.

  Her back was to him but I saw the run of emotions passing over his face. One of them definitely included distaste before he masked it with his company smile. ‘I’d be happy to.’

  Lie.

  Tears rushed to my eyes. ‘I think we should leave it for now.’ For ever, I was thinking. ‘I’ve got a job to do and I’m a little outside his range in any case. Summer, you were always the better candidate.’ I quickly took my tray over to a group of new arrivals, offloading the last of the soft drinks.

  Misty, what happened? Summer asked softly as she excused my abrupt departure to Alex.

  He doesn’t want to try. You know he can’t pretend around me. I nodded to a man who asked me to fetch him a beer, attempting to hide the fact I was having a telepathic conversation with someone else at the same time. ‘Of course, sir.’

  I dumped my empty tray on the bar and grabbed Annalise. ‘Take a beer to that man with the red shirt, will you? I need a break.’ I couldn’t stay in the room. Summer or—worse—Angel would hunt me down. I’d have to tell them the truth—that I was really hurt—and then I’d probably cry and throw something at Alex. I had learned the hard way to avoid potential Misty moments and here was a big one brewing.

  I retreated to the Ladies’ and immediately caused an argument as one girl, who was reapplying lipgloss in the mirror, candidly confessed to her best friend that she had stolen ten pounds from her purse earlier that evening. I had to get out but I couldn’t run far enough to escape myself. Yanking my coat off the peg in the cloakroom, I walked swiftly outside and took huddled refuge on a bench in the yard of the Round Church, a medieval building next door to the Union. It was a huge relief to get away from other savants. The green patch smelt of damp earth, yew leaves, and discarded fast food wrappers. Knees up, I rested my head, imagining myself a tombstone—cold and hard enough not to feel anything. It didn’t work. What was so wrong with me that Alex didn’t even want to try? I wasn’t perfect like Summer, or confident and talented like Angel, but I wasn’t totally awful, was I?

  Someone sat down beside me. I peeked, half expecting to see one of the local winos with his cider bottle swinging like a club. It was Alex. I thought that, of the two, I’d prefer the drunk.

  ‘Why did you run?’ he asked.

  I wiped my eyes hurriedly on my knees and looked up. His face was thrown into shadow by the headlights passing on the road just the other side of the churchyard wall. A few tiny flakes of snow began to fall, landing on the shoulders of his jacket and not melting. ‘Do you know what my gift is?’

  ‘Tarryn said you make people tell the truth.’

  ‘That’s not the whole story. I know when someone lies.’

  ‘You do?’ He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. His breath came in white puffs. I couldn’t tell if he really was more interested in the fact that he was freezing, or that he wanted to disguise the fact that he was nervous.

  ‘And I can’t lie even if I want to. So I’ll tell you that I saw what you felt about testing the link with me.’

  He folded his arms, chin disappearing into the collar of his jacket.

  ‘I get that I’m not the girl of your dreams, but what’s so wrong about me that you don’t even want to ask the question?’ There: I’d said it.

  ‘Wrong with you?’ He turned so that one knee was half on the bench and he was facing me. ‘You think this is about you? No, Misty. I’m sorry if you thought that.’

  ‘Don’t tell me: it’s not you, it’s me.’

  He smiled wryly. ‘It does sound a cliché but yes, it’s my problem.’

  He was telling the truth as he knew it. I wasn’t sure that it helped. ‘I think I know the rest: you’re swimming along, being your usual charming self, and come near me, you sink. I’m the equivalent of cramp.’

  He reached out and brushed a fingertip over the back of my hand, leaving a trail of sparks. ‘I wish you weren’t.’ Truth.

  ‘So it would be a disaster if we were soulfinders?’

  ‘Ja … nee … maybe.’ The guy looked away, confused enough to lapse into his native Afrikaans.

  I had to laugh. ‘Well, that answer covers all possibilities.’

  His gaze came back to my face. ‘I’m not used to being lost for words—and you make me stumble repeatedly. But it wouldn’t change the fundamental truth, would it?’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t. Either we are, or we aren’t.’

  He took a firmer grip on my hand. ‘So do you want to
find out?’

  Did I? ‘My aunt says no soulfinders until you’re eighteen. I kinda see the sense in that.’

  ‘So do you want to find out?’ His voice went a little deeper.

  It was torture—but not knowing was worse. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Close your eyes then.’

  I let my lids drift down—then quickly opened them again just in case he was having me on. He had shut his too. I could trust him. I closed mine and waited. There was someone at the door to my mind.

  Hello, Misty.

  Alex.

  I was flying. Sprinkled with fairy dust, I was no longer held down by gravity. If I opened my eyes, surely I’d be floating above the bench, soaring over the ancient round nave of the church and the brightly lit stained-glass windows. Traffic noise ebbed. There was only the rush of the wind and the needle-sharp constellations in the night sky ducking in and out of patchy clouds. But I wasn’t alone. My hand was held tightly by my companion on this flight. Second star on the right and straight on till morning. The grip pulled me closer and became a hug: two strong arms around me, eliminating thoughts of being cold, of falling.

  I opened my eyes. I was still on the bench, but now had my head against Alex’s chest as we absorbed the truth.

  My soulfinder. His voice was full of wonder. I can’t believe it.

  Yes. Linked by telepathy I was glimpsing what he wanted to show me of his private thoughts, part of the amazing new intimacy. His mind whirled like mine. He had taken the test with no expectation that this would be the outcome; he had done it to be kind to me—to heal my hurt. Yet the reason he had not anticipated this moment was nothing to do with me not being good enough.

  It was because I have no one close to me, no one who is mine. Superman Alex was an act to protect himself. Rejected by his family, he had assumed from very young that would be the pattern of all his relationships. I don’t hope for this kind of luck. His fingers skated over my leg which was half on his lap as I had somehow turned into his embrace while my eyes were closed. He found the ladder in my tights and tickled the gap that had grown huge during the evening. So much for nobody noticing. I could feel him smiling even if I hadn’t yet worked up the courage to look at his face. I guess that hole gave him fair warning of the kind of imperfect person I was.

 

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