The Set Up (2 page)

My stomach twisted with cramps as we walked out. None of this made sense.

Everyone around me was still talking about the ‘storm’. And then a large hand clamped down on my shoulder. ‘There you are.’ Fergus spun me round and glared down at me. ‘This way,’ he said.

Reluctantly, I followed him away from the crowds. As we reached his office Fergus looked round, as if to make sure we couldn’t be overheard.

‘What in God’s name did you think you were doing?’ he spat.

‘What?’ I said, startled. ‘When?’

‘Don’t play games with me, Nico. I know it was you causing that mess in assembly.’

My mouth fell open. How could Fergus possibly know it was me? ‘What?’ I said, weakly.

Fergus frowned. ‘How long has it been going on?’

My mouth closed, then opened again. My head felt like it might explode. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I stammered.

Fergus crossed his arms. ‘Okay, you don’t want to talk to me. So listen.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘The power you have is evil. I don’t ever want you to use it again. Understand?’

I stared at him.

Fergus gripped my arm and gave me a little shake. ‘Nico, are you listening to me? This power – moving things . . . telekinesis, whatever you want to call it . . . I’m telling you it’s evil.’

‘And
I’m
telling
you
I have no idea what you’re on about,’ I said, pulling my arm away. I turned to go.

‘Come back here!’ Fergus barked.

No.
I stuck my finger up at him and dived back into the crowd. As I made my way up to my dorm, my heart started pumping hard again.

How did Fergus know that it had been me moving things with my mind? And why was he saying it was evil?

An ice-cold shiver circled my throat.

What on earth was happening to me?

Fergus didn’t mention me giving him the finger later. Well, he didn’t really have a chance. I arrived at the last minute for his history class and left as soon as the bell rang. As usual he picked on me all through the lesson, asking me the hardest questions, and giving me the least time to answer. Whenever I asked him why he gave me such a hard time in class, he’d say that because I was his stepson, it was important the other students didn’t think he was showing me any favouritism. Like it might hurt their feelings.

What about
my
feelings? He never stopped to think how embarrassing his behaviour was for me.

It didn’t used to be like that. When I was younger, we got on great. Maybe that was the trouble – Fergus still wished I was nine years old, or something. He certainly still treated me like I was.

After lessons finished, I went to the library and searched the internet. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for exactly, then I clicked through to this psychic phenomenon site and there it was. Telekinesis – that word Fergus had used. Also known as psychokinesis:
the power to move objects without touching them
.

Apparently loads of people throughout history have claimed to be able to do this. In the olden days they’d be burned as witches. More recently they were likely to get their own TV show.

But no one had ever scientifically proven what they could do. And I couldn’t find any records of people unable to control their abilities either, though similar stuff happened quite often in horror movies.

Not exactly a reassuring discovery.

It was almost 5 p.m. by then, and the light was fading. I went outside and spent about half an hour trying – and failing – to move a twig on the grass near one of the school benches.

I didn’t get it. I’d hurled a clock off the wall when I hadn’t been trying . . . but now I couldn’t move a twig? I slumped onto the bench, closed my eyes and tilted my head towards the dying sun.

‘What’s the matter?’

I jumped. Ketty was standing over me. She was dressed in her running gear – sweats and trainers. Her curly hair was still scraped back into a string-tied ponytail and her skin was glowing. She smiled, like she was really pleased to see me.

My heart skipped several beats.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’ She paused. ‘You okay?’

‘Course I am, babe.’ I stood up, shoving my hands in my pockets so she wouldn’t see they were shaking. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

Ketty’s smile deepened. Her eyes really light up when she grins. And her nose wrinkles. It’s beautiful.

‘Whatever. I’ll get on with my run, then.’ She turned to go.

‘Wait.’

She turned back, eyebrows raised. I ransacked my brain for something to say. Part of me wanted to tell her what had happened in assembly, but I was scared she’d think I was a complete freak.

After all,
I
thought I was a complete freak.

‘Saw you with Billy earlier.’ I smiled. ‘You know he used to bully Curtis to do his homework?’

This was true, though a secret.

Ketty shrugged.

‘So . . . you going out with him?’ I held my breath.

Ketty shrugged again. ‘Dunno,’ she said. ‘Maybe.’

Well that, at least, was hopeful. ‘Hey, d’you wanna see a magic trick?’ I said.

‘Okay.’

I took the twig I’d been practising on and placed it on her hand. ‘Watch,’ I said. ‘I can make this move without touching it.’

Praying I could make the thing at least twitch across her palm, I focused hard. Nothing happened.

A strand of Ketty’s hair fell across her face as she watched.

I tried harder. Still nothing.

Ketty frowned. ‘What’s supposed to happen?’ she said.

I could feel the panic rising into my throat.
Move.
The twig lay resolutely still. And then Ketty’s mobile rang. I stared at it as she answered. It was new . . . and startlingly pink. Sleek, girly and expensive – it was the last phone I’d have expected Ketty to own.

‘Hi,’ she said to the caller. ‘Yeah, I’m outside, I’ll come and meet you now.’ Ketty closed her phone and looked up at me. ‘Gotta go.’

‘Wait, let me try the twig thing again.’ I laid it on my hand and stared down at it.

Ketty laughed. ‘You’re bizarre, Nico.’

‘Not as bizarre as your new phone, babe,’ I said, pointing to the mobile. ‘I mean,
pink
?’

‘I know.’ Ketty made a face. ‘It’s . . . Billy gave it to me.’

‘He got you a
phone
?’

How much money did he
have
?

‘Yeah, it’s got a great camera and brilliant sound quality.’

‘Cool,’ I said, trying not to sound bitter.

‘That was Billy calling, actually,’ Ketty said. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go.’

‘Okay.’ My face burned with humiliation as she turned and walked away. Could I have looked more of an idiot? Trying to move a stupid twig while her
actual
boyfriend had bought her an ultra-cool phone.

Furious with myself I chucked the twig on the ground. I felt like punching the bench behind me. As I stared at it, rage pulsing in my chest, the bench fell backwards. It landed with a thud on the ground.

The rage in my chest vanished and I felt cold with fear. I stared at the bench. My mind had knocked it over. I was sure of it.

How was that possible?

I wandered over to a clump of trees. Beyond them the school’s two playing fields stretched away. Most of my year were there. Ketty, of course, slim and scruffy in her running gear, with Billy and a few of his friends. Tom and Curtis were there too – heading for the sports hut, almost certainly to sneak a smoke in before the home room bell. Nearer me a bunch of girls were chatting, giggling over some magazine. All ordinary school stuff. I sighed.

‘Nico?’ Fergus’s deep voice echoed across the grass.

I turned. He was striding towards me. I started walking away.

‘Stop.’

It was pointless trying to resist. He’d give me a detention if I pushed him any further. Like I told you, even though he was my stepdad he always seemed to come down harder on me than any other pupil.

I stopped walking. Fergus marched up, panting slightly. ‘I’ve been wanting to speak to you all day,’ he said. ‘But I’ve had the local paper on my back since lunchtime. Some bright spark called them about what happened in assembly.’

‘The “freak storm”?’

‘We both know it wasn’t that.’ Fergus paused. ‘You know you were very rude to me earlier.’

‘Yeah?’ I stared down at his polished brown shoes. ‘Well, you were accusing me of ripping up the assembly hall.’

‘Which you
did.
’ Fergus’s voice rose. He checked himself. ‘Look, I’m sorry . . . but are you seriously telling me it
wasn’t
you?’

‘Okay, no.’ I sighed. ‘But I didn’t mean to . . . anyway, how did you
know
? There were three hundred people in the room.’

Fergus rubbed his head. ‘I can’t . . . look, I don’t want to go into it. You don’t need to know any of that . . .’

‘Any of
what
?’ Now what was he talking about? ‘You’re treating me like a little kid,’ I muttered.

‘I’m not.’ Fergus’s forehead creased into a frown. ‘I just . . . I worry about you.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Which means you think I won’t be able to handle whatever it is you think you know
.’

‘No. And I don’t know anything except that the power you demonstrated is highly destructive. That’s it. Come on, Nico. You saw what you did.’

He was lying, I was certain. He
must
know more. How else could he have worked out so quickly that what he was seeing was telekinesis – and that
I
was making it happen? Smashing clocks and vases with your mind wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence at Fox Academy.

‘Now promise me we won’t have a repeat of this morning’s events.’ Fergus attempted a wry smile.

I frowned. It didn’t make sense. Surely any normal person would be curious about how or why I’d suddenly developed telekinetic powers?

‘Don’t you even want to know what actually happened?’ I said.

Because I do. I want to know a whole lot more – and, anyway, I can’t control what I’m doing, even if I wanted to.

Fergus shuddered. ‘Absolutely not,’ he said. ‘Whatever you can do is evil. Your mother would have hated it. I
know
she would.’

I stared at him, my resentment building. How could Fergus know for sure what my mum would have thought?

‘Are you listening? It’s really important you don’t
ever
try to use your telekinetic powers again. For your own good. Understand?’

I narrowed my eyes. How typical was this? Fergus treating me like a child who had to be
told
what was good for him. When was he going to see that I was old enough to work stuff like that out for myself?

‘Promise me you’ll stop, Nico. For the sake of your mother’s memory.’

‘Sure, Fergus.’ I lied. He was just using my mum to get me to agree. He didn’t care about her memory. ‘Whatever you want.’

The next two days passed in the usual boring blur of school activities. There was a bit of minor excitement when the local paper’s story on our ‘freak electrical storm’ came out. But everyone soon forgot about it.

I tried a few times to make stuff move again. But nothing happened. I was just starting to believe that maybe I’d imagined the whole thing, including Fergus’s strange reaction, when I got a text that changed everything.

Like most schools, Fox Academy had strict rules about switching off your mobile in class. I usually kept my phone in my pocket, on vibrate, so if I got a call or a text I would know, but the teacher wouldn’t.

It was double maths. Boring as hell. And I was almost asleep, when my phone vibrated. I fished it out of my pocket, checking first that our teacher, Mr Rogerson, wasn’t looking. The text read:

I froze, staring at the words, then checked the sender.
Number withheld.
My first thought was that it was some kind of wind-up. But who from? No one apart from Fergus knew that I had been responsible for what had happened in Monday’s assembly. I glanced quickly round the class. Over to my left, Ketty was busily writing in her maths textbook. Next to her, chin propped in his hand, Billy was staring into space. Behind them Tom and Curtis were passing notes. On the other side of the room Lola and Lauren were surreptitiously peering into mirrors under their desks. Everyone else was working on their algebra. No one was paying me any attention.