Finding Sky

‘Why? What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. I doubt if we’l have a chance to be alone when we arrive at the house so I just wanted to kiss you.’

I moved back a little. ‘Zed, is this real? You wanting to be with me?’

He unfastened my seat belt. ‘It most definitely is.

You are everything I want. Everything I need.’

‘I stil don’t understand.’

He rested his head against mine, breath warm in my ear. ‘I know you don’t. I’m trying to give you the time you need, let you get to know me enough so you trust me, trust this.’

‘And the kissing?’

He chuckled. ‘I have to admit that’s for me. I’m selfish that way.’

Zed’s dad met us outside the house, wearing work overal s and carrying a tool box; something about the way he handled himself said he knew what to do with his hands, a natural engineer. The Benedict home was a rambling clapboard lodge painted the colour of vanil a ice cream, snuggled next to the start of the cable car at the top end of town.

‘There you are, Zed.’ Mr Benedict wiped his greasy hands on a rag. ‘I saw you coming.’

For some reason, Zed looked a

‘You know we can’t control these things unless we concentrate. You forgot to shield. Sky, nice to see you again. I don’t think we were properly introduced: I’m Saul Benedict.’

Xavier came jogging round the house. ‘Hi!’

‘Not you too,’ groaned Zed.

‘Why?’

‘Dad saw Sky and me.’

Xavier held up both hands. ‘I

‘Don’t go there,’ warned Zed.

‘What does he mean, about being “near your mind”?’ I asked suspiciously.

Al three men looked awkward. I could have sworn Saul’s neck flushed.

‘Were you talking to him when we were driving?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘She knows about that?’ Saul said in a low voice.

‘How come?’

Zed shrugged. ‘It just happened. You heard what Mom said about her—she’s a bridge. It’s hard not to step over.’

A bridge? What was that?

Saul waved me to go ahead of him into the house.

‘My son talk to you in your mind, Sky?’

‘Um … maybe.’

‘You’ve not told anyone else?’

‘Wel , no. It sounds a bit screwy.’

He looked relieved. ‘We prefer people not to know about it so I’d real y appreciate if you kept it to yourself.’

‘Fine by me.’

‘You don’t have a problem with it?’

‘Yes, but I’m more worried when Zed seems to know what I’m thinking before I do.’ Not to mention the soulfinder thing.

Tiny lines deepened around Saul’s eyes—silent laughter. ‘Yes, we al feel that way about Zed. He never did buy the Santa-down-the-chimney story when he was smal . But you learn to live with it.’

The house was very welcoming: an eclectic mixture of objects from al over the world scattered throughout the living rooms, strong on Latin America.

I got the sense of a family rubbing along wel together. I peeked round a corner and saw a huge amount of ski gear cluttering up the utility room.

‘Wow.’

‘Yes, we are serious about our skiing, though Zed here prefers to board,’ said Saul with a fond smile.

‘Public enemy number one,’ commented Xavier pretending to shoot his brother.

‘Boarders and skiers don’t get on?’

‘Not al the time,’ said Saul. ‘You ski?’

Zed must have read the answer in my mind. ‘You don’t?’

‘England isn’t exactly known for its powder snow.’

‘Dad, we have an emergency. Intensive lessons starting from the first fal .’

‘You bet.’ Saul gave me a businesslike nod.

‘I don’t think I’l be very good at it.’

The three Benedicts shared a look.

Xavier gave a snort of laughter. ‘Yeah, right.’

It was weird—there were definitely things happening here that I couldn’t fol ow.

‘What is it you’re doing?

‘Just looking ahead, Sky,’ said Saul. ‘Come into the kitchen. Karla’s left pizza for us.’

There were more odd moments over di

‘His problem is that he sees the food already burnt and can’t be bothered to change things.’ Xavier put his feet up on an empty chair and rubbed his calf muscles. ‘How’s this one going to be?’ he cal ed to his brother.

What did that mean?

‘This is going to be the best ever,’ Zed replied confidently, shoving the baking sheet into the stove.

‘So, Sky, how you finding school? Other students a pain in the butt, I bet?’ Xavier threw a pretzel at his younger brother.

‘It’s OK. Bit different from what I’m used to.’

‘Yeah, but Wrickenridge is way better than lots of high schools. Most kids go on to do what they want after.’

I took a handful of the snacks on the table between us. ‘What about you? I was told you’re good at slalom. Olympic standard good.’

He rol ed his shoulders in a shrug. ‘Could be—but I don’t think I’l take it that far.’

‘Is it because you can see yourself failing and can’t be bothered to change it?’

‘Ouch!’ He laughed. ‘Hey, Zed, your girl here has a mean streak. Getting back at me for ribbing you about your cooking.’

‘Good for her.’ Zed gave me an approving nod.

‘Don’t listen to any of his bul , Sky. I can cook.’

‘Yeah, like Sky can ski.’

A lemon zipped from the fruit bowl and hit Xavier squarely on the nose. I jumped in my seat. ‘What the

—!’

‘Zed!’ said Saul in warning. ‘We’ve a guest.’

I was stil questioning what I had just seen. ‘You’ve got, like, a poltergeist or something?’

‘Yeah, or something.’ Xavier rubbed his nose.

‘Is anyone going to explain that?’

‘Not me. What were we talking about before I was so rudely interrupted by a flying citrus?’ He chucked the lemon towards Zed but it dropped suddenly halfway back into the bowl. ‘Butthead,’ grumbled Xavier.

‘Um … we were talking about your skiing.’ I looked at Zed but he was whistling i

‘Oh yeah. Wel , I don’t think I’l go the professional skier route. Got too much else I want to do with my life.’

‘I can imagine.’ But I wasn’t sure he meant it. It felt like an excuse to me.

‘I’m stopping as Colorado junior champion and retiring undefeated.’

‘And never lets us forget it,’ added Zed.

Something weird happened to the lemon at that point: it exploded.

‘Boys!’ Saul rapped on the counter.

‘Sorry,’ they intoned dutiful y. Xavier got up to clean away the mess.

‘No explanation, right?’ I asked. They confused me, these Benedicts, but just at the moment I wanted to laugh.

‘Nope, not from me. He’s going to tel you.’ Xavier chucked the rag at Zed. ‘Later.’ He made a sudden dash for the stove. ‘Sheesh, Zed, you’ve let it burn! I thought you said this was going to be the best yet.’

He grabbed oven gloves and dumped a slightly blackened pizza on the side.

Zed took a sniff. ‘It is. Only singed. I’m improving.’

Xavier hit him round the head. ‘What’s the use of being a know-it-al when you can’t even cook pizza?’

‘I ask myself that every day,’ Zed replied good-humouredly, getting out the pizza slicer.

After di

‘Xav’s got clear-up duty as I cooked so we’re free,’ he explained, holding my jacket out for me.

‘Cooked? Is that what you did?’

‘OK. Charred.’

Taking my hand, he led me out of the back door.

The house had hardly any garden, just a fence before the end of a ski run and the bottom of the lift.