Lyre (9 page)

‘Whoa!’ exclaimed the girl on the doorstep, ‘who got your goat?’

She pushed past Yuri and into their small entrance hall.  Like every other Brit Yuri had ever met, she didn’t bother removing her shoes.  They may have been pristine trainers with colourful soles that proclaimed themselves as the height of current fashion, but that didn’t change Yuri’s pointless annoyance.

‘I don’t have any goddamn goats,’ Yuri said.  ‘Now get out of my house.’

The girl stared at her, then laughed.  ‘Ha!  You’re funny.  I’m Sibyl.’

‘I don’t care.  Get out of my house.’

‘My great-aunt sent me.   You know her.’  Sibyl reached her hands up to her head and wiggled her fingers around her hair.  ‘Sssssss.’

Yuri blinked.  ‘Medusa?’

‘Do you know any other people with snakes sprouting out of their scalp? Now,’ she said, without bothering to pause for breath, ‘at least your hair will be easy to deal with.  I guess you have those Oriental genes to thank for that.  But I strongly suggest you grow out that fringe as quickly as possible.  It makes you look about ten years old and we want this boy to think of you as a woman budding into her strong sexuality.  Not as a child.’

‘Who the hell are you?’

‘I told you,’ she said without a trace of impatience, ‘I’m Sibyl.  And in the immortal words of every alien movie that’s ever existed, take me to your wardrobe.’

‘But…’

‘Jeez!  Medusa told me you could be difficult but I wasn’t expecting anything on this level.  I’ll speak slowly so you can understand me.  I’m.  Here.  To.  Help.  You.  Get.  Ready.  For.  Your. Party.’

‘But…’

Sibyl rolled her eyes and grabbed Yuri by the hand, tugging her upstairs.  ‘I presume your bedroom is this way?  Come on.’

As soon as she entered Yuri’s small room, Sibyl flung open the battered wardrobe doors and began rooting through the clothes inside.  Yuri was too shocked at the other girl’s brashness to do much more than just gape.

‘No.  No.’  Pulling out a flowery blouse, Sibyl frowned.  ‘Definitely not.  Good grief, where do you go shopping?’

‘I…’

‘Never mind.  Hold on, this’ll do.’  She unhooked a hanger with a shirt dress draped over it.  Yuri had only ever worn it a couple of times and even then only because her mother had bought it for her and she had been trying not to look ungrateful. 

‘For a party?  Isn’t it a bit, um, boring?’

Sibyl gave her a scathing look.  ‘‘You’re not going to wear it like this.  Duh.’

‘How else would I wear it?’

She received a brilliant smile in return.  Seemingly from nowhere, Sibyl produced a large pair of scissors.  ‘Chop chop.  It’s a good thing I did a bit of divining beforehand.  Although it wouldn’t have taken a genius to realize that you are in dire need of some serious fashion advice.’

‘Er, divining?’

Sibyl winked.  ‘It’s my special skill.’  She began haphazardly snipping at the dress while Yuri watched with growing horror.  ‘I have a special relationship with the future.  I ask it what it holds and sometimes it tells me.’

Utterly baffled at the bizarre person standing in her bedroom and attacking her clothes, Yuri gaped.  ‘You communicate with the future?’

‘In a manner of speaking.’  The scissors flashed and scraps of fabric fluttered down to the worn carpet.  ‘It’s not an exact science and sometimes things change and I get it wrong.  But I did a little bit before coming over and I got a very strong image of you wearing a very bad outfit.  So,’ she shrugged, ‘I made sure things didn’t work out that way.’

It took Yuri all of half a second to decide that Sibyl, whoever she was, was clearly mad.  Her own experiences had made it obvious that she shared this planet with a bunch of gods and apparently supernatural beings.  Seeing into the future was another matter entirely.  Sibyl seemed to realise this.  She threw the now heavily altered shirt dress onto the bed and took both of Yuri’s hands in hers.

‘I’ll prove it,’ she said simply.  Then her eyes rolled back into her skull until only the whites were visible. 

Yuri panicked and tried to pull away but it was as if her hands were stuck fast.  She yanked as hard as she could to get away from the terrifying sight of the other girl’s pale face and scary eyes, but it did no good.  She opened her mouth to yell for help and no sound came out.  Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream that did her no good whatsoever.  And then, as abruptly as it had begun, it was over and Sibyl was blinking at her with colour returning to her cheeks.

‘What in the hell was that?’ Yuri shrieked, finding her voice and finally able to free herself from Sibyl’s grasp.  She backed away until she was against the wall and shoved her hands underneath her armpits as if there was a danger that they might be grabbed again.

Sibyl’s face was grim and her eyes were clear.  ‘That was the future.  The image was clear.’

Shaking, Yuri pointed at the door.  ‘You need to get out.’

Sibyl’s jaw was tense but she jerked an assent.  Oddly, she seemed almost as shaken as Yuri was.  ‘If that’s what you want,’ she replied quietly.  ‘I’m used to people being afraid of me.’  She took a step towards Yuri, who immediately shrank back.  ‘There’s more than just me you need to be afraid of though.’

Yuri put her hands over her ears.  ‘No.’ She shook her head violently.  ‘I don’t want to hear it.’

Sibyl reached out and pulled her hands away.  ‘Tough.’ Her eyes scanned Yuri’s face.  ‘When you get offered a lift home tonight, don’t take it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just that.  Don’t get in the car, Yuri.’  Her eyes dropped to the fallen dress.  ‘And for goodness sake, wear that.’  Then, without another word, she was gone.

Yuri stared after the open door for several moments.  Her breathing was fast and her hands were still shaking.  And to think she had felt relief at meeting Medusa and realising she wasn’t completely crazy after all.  Now all she wanted to do was to run and hide under her duvet.  It took several deep breaths to calm herself down.  Then she scooped up the dress and smoothed it over with her trembling fingers.  Suddenly terrified about what might happen if she didn’t put it on, she peeled off her clothes to change.

*

When the doorbell rang again, Yuri was more prepared.  She nodded briskly to herself and strolled to answer it, telling herself that if she pretended to be confident then sooner or later she would be.  All the same, she opened it slowly, just in case Sibyl had decided to return.  When she saw it was Ozzy standing on her doorstep and looking nervous, she gave him a brilliant smile that had much more to do with relief than anything else.

‘Wow.’ He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a boyish grin.  ‘You look amazing.’

Yuri glanced down at herself self-consciously.  For all of Sibyl’s scariness, she had to admit that she had a way with a pair of scissors.  The shirt dress, which had once hung on her like a shapeless tent, was now moulded to her body, highlighting her admittedly unimpressive curves.  Sibyl had also shortened the hem and removed the sleeves, making the overall effect much more rock chic than bargain basement shopper. 

‘Thanks,’ she muttered, suddenly embarrassed.

‘Hey,’ Ozzy said gently, ‘if I’d known I was going to get such a wonderful smile when I came round, I’d be here banging on your door every day.’ He held his arm out.  ‘Shall we?’

Biting her lip, Yuri nodded before stepping out and locking the front door then taking his arm.  She was sure she saw the neighbour across the street twitching their curtain to nosily spy on what was happening.  Yuri straightened her posture.  Something about having Ozzy at her side filled her with confidence.  She was pretty sure he’d discard her after this night.  She was neither as pretty as the blonde she’d seen him with in the cafeteria, nor as effervescent as someone like Brittani.  But after all of her ducking and hiding, she was surprising herself with how glad she felt to be doing this.  To be acting like a normal teenager for once.  Her mind flashed to freaky Sibyl for just a moment and she shuddered delicately then forced her out of her mind.  For one night only she was going to act like the rest of the world and damn well enjoy herself.

The pair of them wandered down the street, neither one touching the other although, if she had so wished, all Yuri would have had to do would be to extend out her little finger to brush against Ozzy’s thigh.  He hummed as they walked, a catchy melody that was unfamiliar to Yuri’s ears.

‘What song is that?’ she finally asked.

Surprisingly, he looked abashed.  ‘Just something I’m working on.’

‘You wrote it yourself?’

He laughed.  ‘You don’t believe I could?’

‘I’m just impressed,’ she replied truthfully.  ‘I’ve never known a proper musician before.’

‘You don’t play a musical instrument?’

‘My dad taught me piano for a while.’  She paused for a moment, lost in bittersweet memories, until Ozzy brought her back.

‘It didn’t take?’

She scratched her neck awkwardly.  ‘Not exactly.’

‘You’re still an artist though,’ he said.

She blinked.  ‘What do you mean?’

He shrugged.  ‘I’ve seen a few of your Art things up on the wall.    And some of the others in your class were talking about how talented you are.’

Yuri was momentarily struck dumb.  The idea that her classmates had been talking about her in relation to talent rather than her weirdness was a revelation.  ‘I prefer English,’ she admitted.  ‘I like writing.  It’s just that with moving around so much I end up studying a lot of the same things over and over again.’

‘That sucks.’ He grinned suddenly.  ‘Maybe I can get you to write some words for my song.’

She gave a half laugh.  ‘I wouldn’t where to begin with that.  I don’t really have much rhythm.’

‘Well, if not a song, then about a logo?’

‘Huh?’

‘My band is starting to get some interest from a few local hangouts.  We want to put posters up to advertise our gigs.’ His cheeks coloured.  ‘Well, one gig anyway.  It’s in a couple of weeks’ time.  If you wouldn’t mind putting your artistic skills to use, then perhaps you could sketch out a logo.  And write something too, seeing as that’s what you prefer,’ he added hastily.

Flattered, Yuri looked down at the pavement.  ‘Okay.’

He nudged her arm.  ‘Hey, how do Japanese artists say goodbye?’

She glanced back up.  ‘I have no idea.’

‘Cyan-nara.’

Yuri giggled involuntarily.  ‘That’s awful.’

Ozzy’s eyes had a devilish sparkle.  ‘I know.’

A voice appeared from behind.  ‘What’s so funny?’

A half grimace twisted Ozzy’s face and he turned round.  ‘Jono.  You heading to the party?’

‘On my way, dude, on my way.’  He gave Yuri an easy grin.  ‘And you’re Yuri.  I’ve seen you around.’

She gave him a small smile.  She’d never seen him before herself but that was probably a result of keeping her head down as much as possible as anything else.  ‘Hi,’ she said, then added as an after thought, ‘Good to see you.’

He slung an arm round her shoulder and she had to force herself not to tense up.  ‘So can you teach me some Japanese?’

‘Jono,’ Ozzy groaned, ‘shove off, will you?’

He smirked.  ‘Why, so you two can canoodle?’

‘Canoodle?’ Yuri asked.

Jono opened his mouth to answer, but Ozzy interrupted him.  ‘It means chat,’ he said, with a glare at his friend.

Yuri filed the word away, making a mental note to look it up later.  Her English might be as good as fluent but sometimes there were still some colloquial words that eluded her.  She had a sneaking suspicion that canoodle didn’t mean ‘chat’ at all.

‘Come on,’ Jono said, ignoring Ozzy entirely, ‘tell me one word.’

Yuri gave him a thoughtful glance.  They weren’t the only ones who could play the ‘hide the definition’ game.  ‘Bokenasu,’ she said suddenly.  ‘It means ‘you’re cool’.’

‘Awesome!  Bokenasu,’ he repeated, rolling it around his mouth.  ‘Bokenasu.  I won’t forget that.  Thanks, Yuri!’

‘Okay, Jono, time to go.’  Ozzy jerked his head.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said, good-naturedly.  ‘Bokenasu!’

Yuri smiled, then watched him lope off.

‘He’s annoying sometimes,’ Ozzy said, ‘but he’s a hell of a drummer.’  He shot her a curious look.  ‘So what does bokenasu really mean?’

Yuri started.  ‘How did you…?’

He grinned.  ‘When you lie, your nose wrinkles up.  It’s how I knew you really wanted to spend time with me.’

‘That’s rubbish!’ she said, unsure whether to believe him or not.

‘Does bokenasu mean you’re cool?’

She looked at him ruefully.  ‘No,’ she finally admitted.  ‘It sort of translates as ‘stupid eggplant.’’

Ozzy roared in laughter.  ‘Brilliant.’ His hand slipped into hers and he nodded up to a house further along the street.  The music was already audible.  ‘We’re almost there.’  He watched her carefully.  ‘It’s a shame.  I was kind of enjoying our walk.’

She smiled at him.  ‘Yeah,’ she said shyly.  ‘So was I.’