Finding Sky

‘She can see stuff about you too?’ That made me feel a lot better.

‘Oh yeah. Being a Benedict is no bed of roses.’

We stopped outside the house. Only the porch lamp was on. I wasn’t too keen on going in alone but didn’t want Zed to think I was making him a different kind of invitation.

‘So we’l keep it in the car then. Just one smal step,’ he said softly, then leant over and put his lips to mine for a kiss. It was incredibly soft. I felt as if we were melding together, barriers sinking under his gentle persuasion. Far too soon, he pul ed reluctantly away. ‘Where’s your dad? Am I dead yet?’

‘That wasn’t a finger. You said my dad only thought about a finger.’ My voice sounded distant to me.

Panic faded and I began to enjoy being just here in the present—with Zed. Like he’d said, my body was humming to his perfect A.

‘True.’ He put his hands on my shoulders and trailed them over the skin. ‘Sorry, I just had to do that.

The dress should be outlawed.’

‘Hmm.’ Zed Benedict was kissing me—how could this possibly be real?

‘Yeah, I real y, real y like you, Sky. But if I don’t stop now, your dad will kil me and that wil be the end of a beautiful friendship.’ He took a last kiss and pushed away, coming round to my side of the car to help me out. ‘I’l just go turn some lights on then head back to the party.’

‘Thanks. I don’t like going into an empty house.’

‘I know.’ Zed took the key from me and opened the door. I waited in the hal as he made a quick tour of the rooms.

He hovered on the porch, jingling his keys. ‘I don’t like leaving you alone. Promise not to go out?’

‘I promise.’

‘Are you sure you’l be al right?’

‘Yes. I’l be fine.’

‘And sorry again about Mom. If it’s any comfort, her sister, Aunt Loretta, is worse.’

‘Real y?’

‘Yeah. Hard to imagine, isn’t it? Keep clear of our house at Thanksgiving—they’re an unstoppable combination.’ He drew me to him and kissed the tip of my nose. ‘Goodnight, Sky.’

‘Goodnight.’

Hand lingering on my cheek, he stepped back.

‘Make sure you lock the door behind me.’

I did as he said and went upstairs to change.

Looking out of the window I saw that he hadn’t yet driven away. He sat there in the jeep. On guard until my parents came home. He was taking the threat to me seriously—which was both alarming and oddly comforting. At least tonight, I didn’t have to be scared.

We had our first light fal o f snow in mid October. The woods looked incredible: leaves turning so many colours like the wrappers in a box of Quality Streets.

Sal y and Simon spent most days, fingernails ingrained with oils, bubbling over with excitement about the chal enge they were facing when they painted al fresco. When they get like this, even when they try and remember, they often forget normal stuff, like their daughter’s parent-teacher consultation and when they last saw her at meal times. It can be a bit lonely—at least I now had a piano at home to keep me company. But in Richmond, their studio was in the attic; here, they were a mile away at the centre.

So it was that they missed out on the little drama of which I found myself the focus.

The Wrickenridge High gossip machine was working over-time on the Zed Benedict/Sky Bright saga. I was determined that it was just ‘going out’; Zed had his protect-Sky-and-be-her-soulfinder agenda but I refused to discuss either with him—al of which made for a stormy time. But with a boy like Zed, what did you expect? A relationship with him was never going to be plain sailing.

Tina dropped me at the corner of my street. She’d been giving me grief about Zed, not believing me when I told her that he’d been unfailingly kind to me since he’d decided to turn over a new leaf and work at persuading me we were a good idea.

‘He doesn’t kiss you on the doorstep and leave—

he’s not that kind of boy-next-door,’ she insisted.

‘Wel , he did.’ I was getting a bit a

‘Yeah, because he wants you.’

I fisted my hand in my hair, giving a sharp tug—an alternative to screaming. Everyone from my fel ow students to the teachers was predicting some disaster to come from my relationship with Zed. They were al determined to cast him as vil ain and me as the clueless damsel about to get herself in distress.

Nelson was perpetual y worried, muttering dire warnings about what he’d do to Zed if things went wrong. I’d had coded advice from various female members of staff about not al owing myself to be pushed further than I wanted to go. I already had enough pessimistic thoughts myself; hearing them echoed by others was sapping my confidence.

‘On your own again, Sky?’ cal ed Mrs Hoffman as I arrived back from school.

‘I expect so.’

‘Want to come in for a while? I’ve baked brownies.’

‘Thanks, but I’ve … er … got homework to do.’

‘Then I’l bring some over.’

‘That’d be great.’

I’d got the hang of managing Mrs Hoffman now.

You never went into her house unless you had a good hour to spare as it was impossible to break out of a conversation with her no matter how you wriggled like Houdini with the chains too tight. On your own territory, it was a bit easier and she always respected the demands of scholarship when offered as an excuse.

She left when I got out my text books. Munching on one of her biscuits, I went up to my bedroom to finish my history assignment.

Sky, are you OK?

After weeks of resisting, I’d final y had to admit that I could hear him in my head. Zed? I looked out of the window, half expecting his car to be on the street.

Where are you?

At home. Do you want to come over?

How did you …? No wait: how are we talking like this, so far apart?

We just can. Do you want to come?

A choice between sitting at home on my own or braving Zed’s family?

Mom’s in Denver. Yves’s at some Young Einstein of the Year convention. It’s just me, Dad, and Xav.

OK, I’ll come over. You’re up by the cable car,right? I think I can find you. I started downstairs, tugging my jacket off the newel post.

No! I don’t want you out alone—it’s getting dark.

I’ll come get you.

I’m not afraid of the dark.

I am. Humour me.

He shut the conversation off. I sat on the bottom step of the stairs and massaged my temples. It seemed harder to talk this way to him over a greater distance, more tiring somehow. Another thing I had to ask him about.

I heard the jeep ten minutes later. Slinging my jacket on and grabbing my keys, I ran out of the house.

‘You must have broken every traffic law to get here so fast!’

He gave me a smooth smile. ‘I was already on the way when I cal ed in.’

‘You think that’s cal ing in?’ I climbed into the passenger seat and we headed off back through town. ‘You could use a cel phone like other people.’

‘The reception’s bad out here—too many mountains.’

‘That’s the only reason?’

His mouth quirked at the corners. ‘No. It brings you, wel , closer.’

I’d have to think about that one. ‘Do you talk to anyone else this way?’

‘My family. We’ve the lowest phone bil s in the val ey.’

I laughed. ‘Can you talk to your brothers in Denver?’

He put his right arm on the back of my seat, brushing the nape of my neck in passing. ‘Why al the questions?’

‘Sorry to break it to you, Zed, but it’s not exactly normal.’

‘It is for us.’ He turned up the track ru