Entwined Read Online Free Page A

across my chest and put on a haughty tone. “Well, if you must know…” Honestly, I’m dying to tell someone. “It’s probably my imagination.”
    His eyes narrow. “What?”
    “It seems as if I can hear what people…” I stop, my natural defences kicking in.
    “Are thinking?” he concludes for me, his forehead creased.
    I get a chill when he says it out loud, but one of us had to. Now I know for sure that he knows something, and I feel a little safer discussing this delicate subject with him. He’s a stranger, says my common sense. I ignore it out of habit. “Something like that. But of course it’s impossible,” I add hastily.
    “No, it’s not.” A slow smile spreads over his face. “You’re a telepath!”
    I don’t like words like that. It’s the kind of label my grandfather would use, a word that turns an ephemeral possibility into a fact. “That’s ridiculous.”
    “Is it?” He frowns at me. “I’ve heard that you can do a lot of unusual things.”
    My guard goes up immediately. I’ve worked hard to keep a low profile since I came to Syringa, and it’s not easy. I can’t control the things I experience, and sometimes I can’t control how I respond to them. At first it didn’t occur to me to be discreet, but when other kids started avoiding me I realised it was better to keep my eyes open and my mouth shut. After a while, most people forgot about me. Then Ntatemogolo came home.
    Once people make the connection between him and me, the speculation begins. The good thing is that very few people make the connection, and when they do they always seem perplexed. How can such an unimpressive girl be related to the great Lerumo Raditladi?
    I glare at Rakwena, putting up my wall of ordinariness in case I have to defend myself against accusations of witchcraft, Satanism or just plain weirdness. “People love to gossip.”
    “So it’s just gossip?” he prods. “You don’t have premonitions?”
    I bite my lip and decide it’s safer not to answer. I’ve never admitted it to anyone beyond my dad and grandfather; Wiki and Lebz figured it out on their own.
    “Well, that’s too bad,” Rakwena says softly. “I think it’s an incredible gift. If you were telepathic, I’d advise you not to cling to the thoughts coming into your head so you don’t get overwhelmed. But since you’re not…” He sighs. “I guess there’s nothing more to talk about, right?”
    Damn it. Now he’s playing me. The idea of being able to speak freely about this sort of thing, with someone my age who understands, is so appealing that I’m tempted to tell him my whole life story. But he’s still the scary guy with the scar and tattoo.
    “How do you know so much about this stuff, anyway?” I snap, frustrated by my indecision. “Are you some kind of… ghost buster?”
    He laughs. “You didn’t realise your gifts would begin to mature around this age?”
    “My grandfather told me,” I reply without thinking.
    He grins. “So you
do
have gifts.” His eyes are twinkling. I wish they wouldn’t. “Then you also probably know that telepathy is common in someone with your abilities – empathy, premonitions – someone very sensitive to the people around her.”
    That’s news to me, but I know better than to open my mouth at this point.
    “Well, I just thought you might like to talk to someone who doesn’t think you’re a freak.” He moves away from the wall. “Take care, Conyza.”
    “Connie!”
    He shrugs. “If you insist on rejecting the things that make you unique, that’s your problem,
Connie
.” He slinks away.
    Ugh! What an idiot. What does he know? I’m so angry I want to run after him and slam my bag against that big head. Rejecting the things that make me unique? That’s easy for him to say! As much as I love my father, I have never completely forgiven him for naming me after a weed. And as for telepathy… All my life I’ve dealt with people who made me feel guilty for being different. Now