Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) (28 page)

Michelle nods in agreement.

‘Kael is very serious when it comes to his duty,’ she agrees,
‘but love can make you do crazy things.’

I lift my head and give her an exasperated look.

‘There you go again – assuming he’s in love with me. I
think you’re imagining things.’

Michelle shakes her head and lays one hand on my
forearm.

‘No, I think you’re the one who’s in denial here, Shay. You
have a decision to make. Are you going to do what everyone else has decided you
should do, or are you going to fight for what you want?’

Chapter
47

Panic

Tastes like: Rubbery,
Haloumi cheese.

Smells like: Sweat and
blood.

Sounds like: A drum-beat.

Feels like: A fist,
clenched around your heart.

Looks
like: A rat, cornered by a cat.

The ride home from school with Kael is like those first
days in Aylburton. There’s a mountain of stuff between us that we need to talk
about, but neither of us does, and the tension bottles up in the centre
console.

I keep playing the conversation with Michelle over in my
head. A couple of weeks ago, this decision would have been easy. Follow the
expected path versus assert my own freedom of choice? No contest. I’ve spent so
many years bending to the will of others that I’m ready to push back.

But things are not so clear cut anymore.

A few weeks ago, it was all about me; now there’s a
whole host of people to think about, people who are depending on me in a life
or death sort of way. It’s no longer what they want against what I want. Right
now, I’m not even sure what I want…

‘Looks like your boyfriend’s waiting for you.’ Kael says
in a tight voice as we pull into Nan’s driveway.

I frown and turn my attention to the silver Beamer,
parked in the gravel drive. Tristan steps out, looking unusually disheveled
with his tie pulled down loosely and his long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned to mid-way
down his chest. The last thing I want right now is to have this conversation,
but I know it’s inevitable.

‘Do you want me to stay?’ Kael asks as I hesitate with
my hand on the door handle.

I sigh and shake my head.

‘No, I’ll be fine, but thanks…’

‘I’ll be next door,’ he says. I nod, open the door and
slide out of the truck.

Kael tips his head at Tristan and walks through the
hedge to his house.

I sigh and turn up the drive, letting Tristan fall into
a quick step beside me, as I pass the beamer. I don’t look at him until we’re
on the porch and he puts one hand on my shoulder.

‘Are you angry with me?’ he asks.

I turn to face him, note the dark circles beneath his
eyes and feel a rush of guilt.

‘No, Tristan, it’s not that,’ I say, ‘I just wish you
hadn’t kissed me.’

‘Ouch, was it that bad?’

‘No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just - I thought we had
agreed to take it slow?’

He sighs and drops his hand from my shoulder to grab my
hand. The familiar energy hums between our tangled fingers

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but it’s not easy for me, Shaylee.
You just don’t understand the attraction – your aura, it’s driving me crazy
just standing here with you.’

I blush and take a small step backwards but he keeps hold
of my hand in his.

‘It’s supposed to work both ways,’ he adds. ‘Don’t you
feel attracted to me?’
 
There is a slight
hint of desperation in his voice.

‘It’s not that I don’t, Tristan. It’s just I need -’

‘- time, yes I know…’ He looks away from me, somewhere
in the direction of Kael’s house.

I sigh, take both of his hands in mine and wait for him
to look at me.

‘I’m only seventeen, Tristan,’ I say, ‘I’m not ready for
marriage, let alone to someone I’ve barely known a few weeks. My whole life has
been upended in the last few weeks and I’m still trying to make sense of it
all.’

He searches my face and I hold his gaze.

‘Please just be patient?’ I beg.

‘I don’t think you understand how difficult this is for
me.’

Very gently, he slides his hand up to cup the side of my
face and neck and I realize with a start, that he is shaking. ‘I’ve been
waiting my entire life for you,’ he whispers, ‘just being around you and not
touching you is painful. I want you, Shaylee.’

My cheeks flush with heat again.

‘But you don’t even know me.’

‘I know enough to be certain that I want to be with you.
Forever.’

I bite my lip and look down at the floor. Why couldn’t I
have fallen in love with Tristan? It would have been so easy.

‘Alright, Shaylee,’ Tristan sighs, squeezing both of my
hands in his, ‘I’ll try to be patient. I can promise to try my best to give you
the space and time you need but I can’t guarantee I won’t kiss you again.’

I offer him a crooked smile.

‘And I can’t promise not to deck you if you do.’

He chuckles and holds his hand against his heart, like
I’ve just shot an arrow through it.

‘Ouch!’ he says, and his eyes turn serious.

‘A kiss from you is worth a little pain. Oh, I almost
forgot; hang-on a sec; I’ve got something for you.’

He hurries to his car and returns with a thin white box.

‘I heard you were doing Sophiatown for the spring dance
and thought this would be perfect for you.’

I balance the box on the porch railing and curiously
lift the lid. Inside, I dig with one hand through a layer of tissue-paper and
pull out the dress that is nestled beneath. I shake it out gently and cradle it
against my body.

It’s a simple dress of sheer, white silk; its loose
skirt reaches to just above my knees and a thin silver cord encircles the
waist.

‘It’s perfect,’ I say, ‘Thank you.’

Tristan smiles back at me, leans forward, hesitantly and
places a chaste kiss on my cheek.

‘Take a photo for me?’ he says, a little forlornly and
heads down the steps to his car.

I peer into the mirror, add one last dash of rose
lip-gloss and give a final pat to the bundle of hair pinned high atop my head. The
soft folds of the silk dress hug the top of my body like a glove and then flare
out into a skirt made for twirling.

Unable to resist, I give a quick twist before the mirror
and watch as the soft material swishes elegantly against my bare legs.

With one last, satisfied glimpse at my reflection, I
head down the stairs to meet Kael.

He is in the sitting room, staring out of the window and
at first, I think he hasn’t heard the gentle click of my heels against the floor
but when I reach the doorway, he turns toward me.

The expression on his face is intensely satisfying. He
stands, frozen for a moment, allowing me to take in his own handsome form. His
black jacket clings to his broad shoulders and the hat perched at a lofty angle
on his head gives him a mischievous, debonair appearance.

‘You look…amazing,’ Kael says at last.

‘Thanks,’ I say, ‘Tristan bought me the dress.’

The minute the words are out of my mouth, I want to kick
myself. Kael glances out of the window and turns back to me with a smile that
doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Ready to go?’

I slip my arm through his and allow him to escort me to
the truck, where he tucks the silky folds of my skirt around my legs, grazing
my knee in the process. He snatches his hand away at the contact but by the
time we arrive at the dance, I’ve got a goofy smile on my face because of the
way Kael has been stealing glances at me.
 

When we walk into the venue, Michelle is running
barefoot around the hall in a tight-fitting, straight black dress, firing off
instructions to other committee members.

‘Less than twenty minutes, peeps!’ she shouts. ‘Where
are the flower arrangements and can someone get the photographer set up in
front please?’

‘I’ll do that,’ I volunteer.

‘Thanks, babes.’ Michelle barely glances at me before
she lifts her skirt, swears at it and waddles into the kitchen.

Kael follows me back to the entrance, where I introduce
myself to the Italian photographer. I direct him to set up just inside the
doors, where a canvas back-drop, depicting a typical, black and white
Sophiatown street, has been set up for the photographs.

When the photographer is all set, we head back inside
the hall as the jazz band begins to warm up. Kael follows me as I walk around
the hall’s perimeter, looking at the photos of Sophiatown shebeens, parties and
streets. I feel more home-sick than ever. I slide my hand into Kael’s without
looking at him. For some reason, being with him, feeling the warm energy surge
between us eases my longing for home. Perhaps it’s because it fills me with a
whole other kind of longing…

As the students begin to arrive, I turn my attention to
them, thrilled by how many have gone to great lengths to dress according to the
theme. The hall fills quickly with chatter, swirling skirts, gloves, suits and hats
and the vibey strains of the saxophone. I feel like I’ve stepped back in time
as couples begin to crowd the dance-floor, spinning the girls skirts high and
tapping their shoes against the dance floor. I wish Kael would ask me to dance.
I bite my lower lip and chastise myself. This isn’t the dark ages; there’s
nothing stopping me from asking him.

‘Want to dance?’

He shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I don’t dance.’

‘But I do,’ a voice says from behind us. I spin around
and my heart sinks as Peter holds his hand out to me. I really want to dance
but I know it isn’t a good idea to be so close to another male, especially one
who has already proven susceptible to my aura.
 

‘Sorry Pete but we were actually on our way to get
something to drink,’ Kael says. He doesn’t wait for Peter’s response; he slides
his arm around my back and guides me toward the drinks table. He pours a glass
of punch, tastes it, shakes his head and hands me a closed soda can from the
ice bucket instead before he downs the punch himself. I don’t particularly want
to drink alcohol but his taste-testing irritates me.

‘I don’t want soda,’ I say, ‘I want punch.’

‘No,’ Kael replies.

‘But -’

‘You’re not drinking alcohol, Shaylee,’ he says, taking
my arm and steering me toward a chair against the wall. He practically pushes
me down onto the chair and my temper spikes as he leans against the wall beside
me.

‘I’m not a child, Kael,’ I say, glaring up at him. He
ignores me, staring out at the crowd. I briefly consider shaking my soda can over
him, but then I notice Michelle and Kelly waving at me from the other side of
the dance floor.

Come dance
, Kelly mouths at me, indicating the small circle a few of the
single students have created on the dance-floor. I glance at Kael and he shakes
his head.

‘What is your problem?’ I say, and stand anyway.

‘Shaylee -’ he warns but I ignore him and walk across
the floor, dodging bodies until I reach my friends. Kelly smiles at me, and
Michelle leans in and shouts above the music into my ear.

‘What’s up with the gatekeeper?’

I follow her gesture toward Kael, who is scowling at me,
but hasn’t moved from his position against the far wall.

‘He’s just being his miserable self,’ I say crossly. ‘Just
ignore him.’

She nods.

‘Your theme is a hit!’ she shouts, giving me a ‘thumbs
up’ sign. I smile and return the gesture, then settle into the rhythm of swaying
that passes for dancing at parties. The band picks up the tempo and Michelle
persuades me to show some theme-fitting moves. I oblige and soon, the circle
has grown to encompass almost the entire floor and everyone is trying to copy
my skirt-swishing, shoe tapping movements.

After a few songs, I’m thoroughly enjoying myself and
even Kael’s thunder-cloud expression can’t bring me down. I’m just about to
take a break and get something to drink, when someone bumps me from behind and
I feel moisture splash across my side.

‘I’m so sorry!’ the girl behind me gushes as she stares
in horror at the wet stain dripping down the side of my skirt onto my legs.
Thankfully, it’s something clear and I’m sure it won’t stain. The student looks
so mortified that I haven’t got the heart to reprimand her, so I smile and tell
her not to worry. I lean over to shout into Michelle’s ear:

‘I’m just going to the ladies.’

‘Want me to come with?’ she asks.

I shake my head and look over at Kael. He has his back
turned toward me and is talking to another student beside the punch table.

‘No, just tell Kael where I am if he asks. I won’t be
long, just want to dry some of this off.’

Michelle gives me another ‘thumbs up’ and continues
bobbing to the music.

I weave through the dancers to the entrance and follow
the ‘ladies’ signs into the powder room. Once inside, I pull a few paper towels
from the dispenser and dab the worst of the mess from my dress.
 

One of the stall doors opens and I glance up to see Mrs.
Whitcomb step up to the basin beside me.

‘Accident?’ she asks.

I nod and give her a ‘stuff happens, what can you do’
smile.