Finding Sky

‘Yeah.’ He gri

He had to be winding me up. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him back. ‘Zed, I’ve not a clue what you are talking about. But if you expect me to

… to … I don’t know what you expect, but it’s not happening. You don’t like me; I don’t like you. Get over it.’

He was incredulous. ‘ Get over it? Savants wait al their lives to find the one and you think I can get over it?’

‘Why not? I don’t even know what a savant is!’

He thumped his chest. ‘I’m one.’ He prodded me.

‘You’re one. Your gifts, Sky—they make you a savant. You must get that at least.’

I’d plotted stupid stuff in my head, but this was way beyond anything I could have thought up. I took a step back. ‘Can I have the shopping bag, please?’

‘What? That’s it? We make the most astounding discovery of our lives and you’re just going to go home?’

I took a quick look round, hoping to see someone.

Mrs Hoffman would do. My parents even better. ‘Um

… yes. Looks like it.’

‘You can’t!’

‘Just watch me.’

I tugged the bag from his fingers and hurried the last few yards to my house.

‘Sky, you can’t ignore this!’ He stood under the street lamp, sleet settling in his hair, hands fisted at his side. ‘You’re mine—you have to be.’

‘No. I. Don’t.’

I slammed the front door.

I couldn’t sleep that nigh

t. Hardly surprising seeing

what had happened out on the street with Zed.

Arrogant jerk. Thinking he could just a

And as for al that soulfinder stuff—wel , that was just bizarre.

And what the heck was a savant?

I got out of bed and pul ed on a dressing gown, too restless to lie in bed turning the conversation over and over in my mind. There was so much I didn’t understand but I was afraid to ask for an explanation.

That premonition stuff had been plain creepy—he had me half believing him. But I didn’t want to change my life just because a guy dreamt something might happen to me. What next? He could say I had to wear only orange or risk getting run over by a bus? Would I go to school looking like a tangerine on his say-so? No, it was al just a ploy to get me doing what he wanted.

Which was what?

The back of my neck prickled. The conviction grew that I wasn’t alone. Nervous now, I moved to the window and gingerly drew back the curtain, Psycho-

style music shrieking in my head.

‘Sheesh!’ Heart in my mouth, I found myself face to face with Zed. I literal y had to bite my tongue to stop myself screaming. He’d climbed the apple tree and was sitting outside my room, straddling the branch. I threw open the window. ‘What are you doing there?’ I hissed. ‘Get down, go away.’

‘Invite me in.’ He levered himself along the limb.

‘Stop—get down!’ Panicking, I wondered if I should cal Simon.

‘No, don’t get your dad. I need to talk to you.’

I flapped my hands at him. ‘Go away! I don’t want you here.’

‘I know.’ He gave up on the idea of forcing his way into my room. ‘Sky, why don’t you know you’re a savant?’

I contemplated slamming the window on this weird Romeo-and-Juliet scene. ‘I can’t answer that when I don’t understand the question.’

‘You heard me speaking to you—in your head.

You didn’t just fol ow my hint, you heard words.’

‘I … I … ’

You answered me.

I stared at him. He was doing it again—telepathy, wasn’t it cal ed? No, no, I was projecting—this wasn’t happening.

‘Al savants can do it.’

‘I’m not hearing anything. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’

‘I can see that and I have to know why.’

Confused, the only strategy I could come up with was denial. I had to get him out of my apple tree. ‘I’m sure that’s very fascinating but it’s late and I want to sleep. So … um … goodnight, Zed. Let’s talk about this some other time.’ Like never.

‘You won’t even give me a hearing?’ He folded his arms.

‘Why should I?’

‘Because I’m your soulfinder.’

‘Stop that. I don’t understand you. You’re nothing to me. You’re rude, cold, you don’t even like me and have taken every opportunity to criticize me.’

He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘So that’s what you think of me?’

I nodded. ‘Maybe this is, I du

‘You real y don’t like me, do you?’ He gave a hol ow laugh. ‘Great, my soulfinder doesn’t understand the first thing about me.’

I folded my arms to hide the fact that I was trembling. ‘What’s there to understand? Jerks are pretty easy to read.’

Frustrated at my repeated rebuffs, he made a move towards me.

I took a step back. ‘Get out of my tree.’ My finger was shaking as I pointed to the gate.

To my surprise, he didn’t refuse, just studied my face, then nodded. ‘OK. But this isn’t over, Sky.

We’ve got to talk.’

‘Get out.’

‘I’m going.’ With that, he dropped to the ground and disappeared into the night.

With a sob of relief, I slammed the window shut and col apsed on the bed. Tugging the duvet around me, I curled up, wondering what exactly was happening here.

And what I was going to do about it.

That night the dream came again, but this time with more details. I remembered the hunger—I’d barely had anything to eat for days except crisps and chocolate. They left me feeling sick. My knees were grubby and my hair matted on the side I preferred to lie on at night. My mouth felt sore, my lip swol en where it was cut on the inside. Sitting on the grass verge, I felt empty of anything but fear, a churning sense of panic in my stomach that I could only conquer by concentrating on the daisies. They were so white, even in the darkness they glowed against the grass, petals folded. I hugged my knees, gathering myself up like one of them.

I didn’t like the smel here—dog, car fumes, and litter. And a bonfire. I hated fire. The roar of the motorway droned on; the traffic sounded angry and rushed, no time for a lost little girl.

I waited.

Then the dream changed. This time it wasn’t a lady in a headscarf who came up to me—it was Zed.

He stood over me and held out a hand.

‘You’re mine,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to claim you.’

I woke, heart pounding, just as dawn broke behind the mountains.

The next few days at school were a slow torture.

Compared to the first weeks where I hardly ever saw him, I now ran across Zed at every turn. I could feel his brooding gaze as I walked through the dining hal or passed along the corridor. I begged Tina for lifts home and even dropped in on Mrs Hoffman when I got back so as not to be alone in the house. Zed was making me a prisoner. It was one thing to hanker after Wolfman from afar; it was entirely different to find him zeroing in on you.

Saturday morning and there was a knock on the door early. Simon and Sal y were stil in bed, so I went to answer it, mug of tea in hand, expecting it to be a delivery for the studio.

It was Zed, holding a massive bunch of flowers. He thrust it at me before I could shut the door on him.

‘Let’s start again.’ He held out a hand. ‘Hi, I’m Zed Benedict. And you are?’

I grappled with the flowers—they were my favourite colours—purple and blue.

‘Go on—this is the easy part. “I am Sky Bright and I’m from England.”’ He put on such a ridiculous accent I felt some of my reluctance folding under the urge to laugh.