Finding Sky (9 page)

‘Yes, Mr Joe told me. But I’m fine. Really.’

Zed returned. ‘One Coke, sir. Ready to move on, Sky?’

‘Yes. Bye, sir.’

Mr Keneally gave me a worried smile. ‘Thanks for the drink, Zed.’ He sat down and began to play Mahler’s funeral march.

‘Message for me?’ whispered Zed.

‘Or me. People can’t work out why we’re together.’

‘Can’t work out why I’ve got the prettiest girl in the room with me? Then they’ve no imagination.’ He laughed when he saw he’d made me blush again. He brushed a thumb over my cheek. ‘You are the definition of sweet, you know that?’

‘I hope that’s a compliment.’

‘Meant to be. I knew it even when I gave you that warning—you know, about going out after dark. You listened, didn’t you?’

I nodded, not sure what else to do. He seemed so serious about it.

He smiled and tickled my neck with a strand of my own hair. ‘I was full of resentment that I had to do it because of my dream—I’m still worried about that—but even then, it did filter through that you were kinda cute.’

‘You never showed it.’

His lip curled with wry self-knowledge. ‘I do have an image to maintain, you know. I think I might have fallen for you that day in the parking lot. Nothing sexier than an angry woman.’

I so wanted him to be telling the truth, but I had my doubts. ‘Cute and sexy? I’m not like that.’

‘Sure you are. If I’m a tuning fork, you’re the perfect A, making me hum.’

I was getting flustered. ‘Zed, ssh!’

‘What, you don’t like compliments?’

‘Of course I do—I just don’t know what to do with them.’

‘You just say, “Why thank you, Zed—that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”’

‘Will you stop putting on that fake English accent—it so doesn’t work!’

He threw back his head and laughed, drawing many eyes to us. He swooped on my hand and kissed my palm. ‘You are just great. You know, I can’t understand why I was slow to realize what was going on with you.’

I wasn’t ready to talk about feelings yet; I had to keep this practical. ‘These dreams of yours—do they always come true?’

He frowned. ‘One way or another. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m gonna take very good care of you, Sky.’

I didn’t know what else I could say about such a vague threat, but he had me spooked. I changed the subject. ‘You know, Tina doesn’t think you’re my type.’ I gestured across the room to Tina who was chatting with Sally. She looked striking in her long green dress; Nelson hovered close—he’d not missed the fact that she was attracting many admiring glances tonight.

‘Oh?’ Zed looked amused. ‘And your type would be?’

‘Tina’s opinion or mine?’

‘Yours.’

I smiled down at my new shoes before risking a glimpse of his expression. I was totally nervous, but I said it anyway. ‘Right now my type seems to be tall, arrogant, angry and secretly really kind.’

‘Nope, nobody I know.’ His eyes glinted.

‘Sky, isn’t it? How are you?’ Mr Benedict interrupted us, taking my hand in his large palm and holding it for a moment. His grip was warm and capable, work-roughened. If he was surprised to see me with his son after our last conversation in his presence, he didn’t show it. Then again, I had the impression his face rarely betrayed his thoughts. By contrast, his wife was a bundle of energy with large dark eyes, face positively radiating her emotions, body held poised like a flamenco dancer. She was the one who had gifted her sons with the Hispanic looks. By the way Mr Benedict’s arm rested on her shoulders, you could tell they had a special energy together, a quiet fizz of delight in each other.

‘Sky.’ Karla broke into my musing; she was smiling as she patted my wrist.

‘Nice to meet you, Mrs Benedict.’

‘Our boy apologized to you yet for how he spoke to you at the river?’

I glanced up at him. ‘In his own way.’

‘I see you understand him. I’m so pleased. It’s difficult for him.’ Mrs Benedict touched my cheek lightly, before her eyes lost focus and she became sort of
misty
. ‘But you—you’ve seen these things too—lived them, which is much worse. I’m so sorry.’

My heart missed a beat.

‘Mom,’ warned Zed. ‘Stop it.’

She turned to him. ‘I can’t help but see.’

‘Yes, you can,’ he ground out.

‘So much sadness so young.’

‘Karla, Sky is here to enjoy herself.’ Mr Benedict herded his wife away from me. ‘Come visit us anytime, Sky. You’ll always be welcome.’

I wanted to run. These people were making me
see
things again. I couldn’t. I’d squeezed those feelings—the colours—stuffed them away in a locked box deep inside. What was I doing here with Zed Benedict of all people? Who was I fooling? I couldn’t handle relationships—I shouldn’t have even tried.

‘Sorry about that.’ Zed tugged his collar awkwardly. ‘Shall we get some air?’

‘She’s like you.’ I could feel the shaking beginning. ‘She was reading me—getting too much like you do.’

‘Hush now.’ He stepped closer to shield me from the rest of the guests. ‘Don’t think about it.’

‘What am I? An open book or something?’

‘It’s not like that. It’s not just you.’

‘I think I’d like to go home now.’

‘I’ll drive you back.’

‘No, it’s OK. I’ll get Tina to take me.’ Right now I didn’t want to be near any of the Benedicts.

‘It’s not OK. If you want to go, I’m the one who’s going to take you. You’re my responsibility now. I’ve got to keep you safe.’

‘Safe’ was the opposite of what he made me feel. I backed away. ‘Just leave me alone. Please.’

Tina must’ve been keeping an eye on me all evening because she was at my side in an instant. ‘What’s the matter, Sky?’

‘I … I’m not feeling well.’

Zed stepped between us. ‘I was just about to drive her home.’

‘I can take her,’ Tina said swiftly.

‘No need. She’s with me. I’ll look after her.’ He was angry that I wanted to run from him, I could tell.

‘Sky?’ asked Tina.

I hugged my arms around my waist. It was easier not to argue. I just wanted to get home as quickly as possible, even if it meant a few minutes in the car with Zed.

‘Zed’ll take me. I’ll just go tell my parents.’

I was feeling really shaken and some sign of that must have convinced my parents I’d be better off at home. Simon sized Zed up coldly before agreeing.

‘Your dad does that well,’ Zed said, starting the ignition in his family’s jeep.

‘What?’ I suddenly felt tired—drained. I let my head flop against the side window.

‘Do the ball breaker thing. He was letting me know that if I put a finger on his little girl, I’m already dead.’

I gave a hiccuping laugh. ‘Yeah, he does get a bit protective.’ A lot like Zed.

We left that hanging as Zed drove up the hill. A dangling crystal swayed from the mirror, catching the lights as it jiggled hypnotically to and fro.

‘Why do you call them by their first names?’ he asked, trying to steer us away from the swampy ground we’d just covered.

‘I’ve only been with them since I was ten. We all agreed we were more comfortable with first names. They felt they were too old to start as Mummy and Daddy.’

‘You agreed or they suggested?’ He was right. I’d wanted to call them Mum and Dad, desperate to be like the other kids, but it hadn’t been their style.

‘I was fine with it.’

He let it go. ‘My mom—she does that to people. What can I say? Sorry?’

‘Not your fault.’

‘I took you over to them. I should’ve headed her off. Don’t let what she said worry you.’

‘It’s just not … not nice thinking someone can sense stuff about you.’

‘You don’t have to tell me—I live in the same house as her.’

‘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’ll keep it in the car then. Just one small 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 pulled 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 really, really like you, Sky. But if I don’t stop now, your dad
will
kill me and that will 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’ll 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 hall 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’ll be all right?’

‘Yes. I’ll be fine.’

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

‘Really?’

‘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 fall of snow in mid October. The woods looked incredible: leaves turning so many colours like the wrappers in a box of Quality Streets. Sally and Simon spent most days, fingernails ingrained with oils, bubbling over with excitement about the challenge 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—all 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.

‘Well, he did.’ I was getting a bit annoyed with her now. ‘He’s much nicer than he seems.’ At least, I think he was.

‘Yeah, because he wants you.’

I fisted my hand in my hair, giving a sharp tug—an alternative to screaming. Everyone from my fellow students to the teachers was predicting some disaster to come from my relationship with Zed. They were all determined to cast him as villain and me as the clueless damsel about to get herself in distress. Nelson was perpetually 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 allowing 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?’ called 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’ll 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 finally 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 called in.’

‘You think that’s calling in?’ I climbed into the passenger seat and we headed off back through town. ‘You could use a cellphone 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, well,
closer
.’

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

‘My family. We’ve the lowest phone bills in the valley.’

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 all the questions?’

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

‘It is for us.’ He turned up the track running along the side of the ski lodges leading to his house. ‘I’m going to pull over.’

‘Why? What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. I doubt if we’ll 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 still 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 overalls 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 vanilla 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 annoyed. ‘Dad!’

‘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. ‘Innocent. I wasn’t anywhere near your mind, though I can guess what went on.’

‘Don’t go there,’ warned Zed.

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

All 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?’

‘Well, no. It sounds a bit screwy.’

He looked relieved. ‘We prefer people not to know about it so I’d really 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 all feel that way about Zed. He never did buy the Santa-down-the-chimney story when he was small. But you learn to live with it.’

The house was very welcoming: an eclectic mixture of objects from all over the world scattered throughout the living rooms, strong on Latin America. I got the sense of a family rubbing along well 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 all 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 fall.’

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

‘I don’t think I’ll 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 follow.

‘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 dinner preparation. It started normally but then headed into la-la land. Saul took command of the sink and proved to be a competent salad chef. Xavier claimed that even Zed couldn’t ruin pizza so let him take charge of the oven.

‘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 called 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 rolled his shoulders in a shrug. ‘Could be—but I don’t think I’ll 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 bull, 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 still 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 innocently as he wiped down the work surface. Too innocently.

‘Oh yeah. Well, I don’t think I’ll 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 dutifully. 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 tell 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-all when you can’t even cook pizza?’

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

After dinner, Zed suggested we went for a walk in the woods at the side of the ski run to burn off all that melted cheese.

‘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. You couldn’t see the peak of the mountain from here, only the steep slope of the forest climbing above the cable car station, firs closely packed to form a carpet. I took a breath, the air cold and dry on the back of my throat, making my skin feel tight across my face. My head felt slightly muzzy, which I put down to the altitude.