The Shattering (9 page)

Sione barely spoke at all, and Janna remembered how quiet he'd been last year, always hanging on the edges of Matthew's group. Since June, they'd chatted so much online that she'd almost forgotten that he didn't really talk in person. She pushed that out of her mind and stole another of Takeshi's chips. She'd been taking one every time he turned to answer one of Keri's questions about the Japanese training system. Takeshi finally caught her stealing when she jogged his arm, mostly by accident. She popped the chip in her mouth and smiled at him, close-lipped, while she crunched.

He laughed. ‘You are . . .' he began, and then said something in Japanese, tilting his head at Aroha.

She swallowed a bite of her carrot muffin. ‘Um, not sure.'

Takeshi nodded and poked at a little electronic dictionary until he found a definition that suited him. ‘You are a thief,' he told Janna, the
th
sound soft and
outrageously
adorable.

Keri shook her head. ‘Stardust, you shouldn't be allowed out.'

Takeshi squinted at that. Janna felt proud of herself for recognising the gesture as one reserved for when people spoke too fast or didn't use proper English. ‘Janna is a star?' Takeshi asked.

‘It's my nickname,' Janna explained. ‘Stardust. Um . . . dust from the stars. Star dirt?'
Oops, that wasn't very sexy.

‘I'm a star, too!' he said. ‘
Hoshino
means “field of stars.” That's awesome!'

‘It is awesome!' Janna said, gazing into his eyes and watching his pupils dilate. Okay. He definitely liked her too. She could smell his shampoo, something herby and cool. A green, classy smell.

‘My name means “love,”' Aroha offered.

‘Uh-huh,' Keri said, looking amused. ‘In Maori.'

‘Well, my mum picked it,' Aroha said, going pink. ‘Sione, what about your name?'

Sione looked up from where he was pushing crumbs around his plate with his finger. ‘Mmm? We should get back to that project . . .' He gave Janna and Keri a significant look.

‘I have to see the Maukis brothers to pick up the Beach Bash contracts,' Janna explained, surreptitiously passing her backpack under the table to Keri. Keri raised her eyebrows, but she took it.

‘Maybe you could give Takeshi and Aroha the Summerton tour?' Keri suggested, which sounded like a really good way to get them out of Keri and Sione's way, and an even
better
way for Janna to get to know Takeshi.

Aroha stood up. ‘Actually, I'll go back to the hotel. I've still got to unpack.'

Janna loved Aroha so much, she
tingled
. Maybe Janna could do something nice for her, like dye her hair. Chocolate-brown would look good with those freckles.

‘So, meet us at seven,' Keri said, looking at Janna.

‘I'll walk back with you guys?' Aroha asked, and gave Sione a smile that Janna easily recognised as significant.

Excellent!
she thought. That would work out nicely for everyone.

Janna linked her arm with Takeshi's as they walked. She wondered if she should go all out to snag him before any other girls noticed how ridiculously amazing he was or wait until tonight, when she could consider other options at the beach.

The Maukises' gallery was a heritage building whose entrance was down an alleyway between the town library and the gallery. Tiberius was waiting by the entrance as they went in, eyes flicker-ing over Janna's legs.

Ugh.
The Maukis brothers were creeps extraordinaire. Every time they looked at her, Janna always felt the desire to scoop their eyeballs out of her cleavage and stomp on them.

But the brothers were on the New Year's Eve committee, in charge of the Beach Bash bookings. ‘Thanks for thinking of Vikings for the Beach Bash,' she said.

Tiberius's eyes twinkled like a lecherous Santa Claus. ‘Our pleasure. You know we like to support young up-and-comers.' His gaze drift ed downward —
Ugh, ugh, ugh
— then, surprisingly, sideways and up again to Takeshi's face. ‘Why don't you come up to the office? Sign the contract, get the paperwork out of the way now.'

She was supposed to be just picking up the papers because technically Patrick was the front man. But it surely didn't matter whose signature went on the forms, and it couldn't hurt to show Takeshi how professional she was. ‘Sure.'

Janna was prepared to admit that the gallery itself was okay, all high white walls and pretty wood floors, but the Maukis brothers' idea of art always left her cold. Landscapes of the view she could see every day were not exciting, though the tourists just ate them up — including, she was sad to see, Takeshi, who praised the artwork as they went through the little rooms downstairs and then up the staircase, which opened onto a corner of the big upstairs space. This was the best room of all, one huge, light-filled gallery that, except for the office at the other end, took up the whole second floor. The paintings up here weren't Maukis ones, but a visiting exhibition, with lots of vivid, abstract slashes and splatters. Janna kind of liked them.

Unfortunately, the centre of the room was reserved for a big limestone block that had been part of the Steps to Heaven until they crumbled. Only pompous artists would drag a huge chunk of stone out of the bay when there was plenty in the hills, and only
badd
artists would have made the thing that sat on top of the block.

Takeshi blinked at it.

‘Ah, yes,' Tiberius said. ‘The Pride of Summerton.'

Janna's effort to not roll her eyes was
heroic
.

The Pride of Summerton was a crown made out of glass, thick and blobby with uneven spiky bits at the top and a bumpy base that wasn't quite level, so that it leaned drunkenly to the left. The sign proclaimed the crown was wearable art, but only a Maukis could claim it was either. Tiberius had designed the crown, and Octavian had blown it and then stuck bits of blue and red and green sea glass all over it. The pieces were probably meant to look like jewels, but the crown had come out looking like her little sister's art projects. From when Mariel was
four
.

But the Maukis brothers didn't care that no one else liked The Pride. They kept it in the middle of the gallery, stuck it on all the brochures, had designed their logo around it, and, grossing Janna out the most, put it on all the posters for the Beach Bash as the symbol of Summerton.

Takeshi looked slightly stunned. Janna didn't blame him.

‘Contracts are in here, Janna,' Tiberius said, and ushered her into the office. She half expected him to use the excuse of close quarters to brush against her, but he seemed distracted, looking back at Takeshi and the crown. ‘So read it carefully, then sign here and initial here.' He went back out into the gallery, pulling the door nearly closed behind him.

Janna bit her lip and glared at the two pages of small type. Reading wasn't really her thing — she got by okay; she wasn't
illiterate
— but this wasn't a magazine, where it didn't matter if she skipped a word or two, or even one of the school texts Mrs Rackard quietly helped her with. The contract had things like
consideration of services rendered
and
represent and warrant that
and
hereby acknowledged by each party hereto
.

I'll have to learn about this stuffffff
, Janna thought.
Get Patrick to
go through a contract and explain it.
Or on second thought, not Patrick. She could ask Mrs Rackard when school started again.

But she couldn't sign now, not when she didn't know exactly what she'd be signing. The Maukis brothers were fully capable of ripping people off.

Janna picked up the contract and pulled the door open, meaning to tell Tiberius that she'd have to discuss it with the others after all, and stopped before the first word passed her lips.

Takeshi was still standing in the middle of the gallery, and Tiberius, smiling, was lowering
The Pride of Summerton
onto Takeshi's head.

Maybe the Maukis brothers knew more about art than she gave them credit for; on its stone plinth, the crown looked stupid. But up high like that, the crown caught the afternoon sun through the windows, the coloured glass casting weird lights on Takeshi's glossy black hair. It looked — well, not beautiful. But kind of ugly-pretty. It made him fascinating in a way that left her feeling a little shy and awkward, which were feelings she didn't have that oft en, and didn't like.

‘How does it feel?' Tiberius asked.

‘It is . . .
omoi
,' Takeshi said, his voice thick. ‘Sorry, my English. I forget.' He turned and blinked across the room at Janna, very slowly. Through some trick of the light, the crown ringed the dark brown of his eyes with gold. The air seemed warm and fragrant, and her fingers ached to touch him, like they sometimes ached with the need to touch her bass. A possessive, tender longing.

Tiberius's smile grew wider, until he followed Takeshi's line of sight and saw Janna, frozen in the doorway.

‘Is there a problem?' he asked, swift ly taking the crown from Takeshi's head and putting it back on the plinth.

Janna shook her head straight and remembered. ‘Um . . . I just want to get the others to look over the contract, if that's okay?'

He nodded brusquely. ‘That's fine.'

She moved toward them. Takeshi was still staring at the crown. ‘Could I try it on?'

‘Oh, I don't think so. It's a delicate piece. I don't want to stress it with too much use. Your boyfriend seemed so interested, though.'

Janna thought about saying, ‘He's not my boyfriend', but she really just wanted to get the hell out of there. That golden, warm feeling was gone, and Tiberius was creeping her out more than usual. Too bad he and his brother were both confirmed noncan-didates for the killer list; they would have made perfect suspects.

‘Well, it was nice to meet you, Takeshi,' Tiberius said. ‘I'm sure I'll see you around.'

‘Good-bye,' Janna said, wrapping her hand around Takeshi's and tugging gently. He blinked at her again, looking less dazed, and walked down the stairs with her. Janna hoped Tiberius wasn't going to hit on boys now. It was bad enough that he leered at all the girls.

‘Do you want to get coffee?' she asked.

‘Heavy!' he said. ‘
Omoi
means “heavy.” Yes, I would like to drink coffee with you.'

‘Or' — she checked her watch — ‘crap. I have a rehearsal. A band practice.'

‘I see,' he said peaceably, but there was a glint of curiosity.

‘Would you like to watch?' she asked on impulse, and when he grinned and nodded at her, she knew it had been the right thing to say.

This one
, she thought, grateful for the rushing in her blood, the certainty of another summer high note.
I want this one to
like me
.

He was leaving in just over a week, and she'd have to work fast. He'd seen her flirting over lunch, and awkward in the art gallery, and crying and shaky after a car accident.

Now let him see her at her very best.

Introducing her new hopefully-fling to her once-upon-a-time boyfriend was probably supposed to be awkward. But Patrick raised a bushy eyebrow, nodded at Takeshi, tapped his fingers on his guitar's neck, and gave Janna a look that she easily interpreted as ‘Make sure he stays on the couch and doesn't get in the way.' Visitors were tolerated at Vikings rehearsal, but only if they were seen and not heard.

Janna settled Takeshi on the couch and brought him a Coke from the mini fridge. ‘I hope you won't be bored.'

‘No,' he said. ‘This is interesting.'

While she checked the settings on her pedals, Hemi Koroheke leaned down from his drum kit and whispered, ‘Chewing up another one, eh, Janna?'

‘Jealous, Hemi?'

‘Don't you wish. What's with the yellow fever, anyway?'

‘Don't be gross,' Janna snapped.