Finding Sky (5 page)

Float!
The order punched its way into my brain—a voice in my head that sounded like Zed.

I had no choice but to let the current take me where it would, trying to lie as flat as possible to stop my legs hitting submerged rocks. Something scraped my calf; my helmet collided briefly with a boulder. Finally I was spat out into the slack water of an eddy. I clung to a boulder, fingers frozen white spiders spread on the stone.

‘Oh my God, Sky! Are you OK?’ shrieked Tina.

Mr Benedict steered the boat to my side so Zed and Nelson could heave me out of the river. I lay gasping on my back at the bottom of the boat.

Zed briskly checked for injuries. ‘She’s fine. A bit scraped up but fine.’

We completed the rest of the course in a subdued mood, the fun having been swept away when I had. I felt cold, numb, and angry.

If Zed hadn’t pounced on me, I would’ve been all right.

Mr Benedict steered us to the landing area where a jeep and trailer waited to take the raft back up the river. I refused to look at Zed as I got out on to the bank.

On dry land, Tina gave me a hug. ‘Sky, you really OK?’

I forced a smile. ‘Fine. Whose brilliant idea was this anyway? What is this—kill-a-foreigner week?’

‘I thought we’d lost you.’

‘You know something, Tina: I’m not cut out for this great outdoors stuff you Coloradans do.’

‘Sure you are. You were just unlucky.’

Mr Benedict and Zed finished loading the raft, then came over to us.

‘You all right, Sky?’ Mr Benedict asked.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

‘What happened?’ The question was directed to Zed.

I got my side in first. ‘He flattened me—made me lose my grip!’

‘I realized what was going to happen—I tried to warn her,’ countered Zed.

I scowled. ‘You
made
it happen.’

‘I tried to stop it—shoulda just left you to it.’ He scowled at me, eyes chilled as the river.

‘Yeah, perhaps you should—and then I wouldn’t be freezing to death here!’

‘Enough!’ Mr Benedict separated us. ‘Sky, get in the jeep before you get any colder. Zed, a word.’

Swathed in towels, I watched father and son continue the argument until Zed stormed off, heading on foot into the woods.

Mr Benedict climbed into the driving seat. ‘I’m sorry about that, Sky.’

‘It’s OK, Mr Benedict. I don’t know why but your son seems to have a problem with me.’ I shot a glance at Tina to say ‘I told you so’. ‘I don’t need an apology. Perhaps he could just keep his distance or something. I don’t like people laying in to me without cause.’

‘If it’s any comfort, he’s got a lot on his mind at the moment.’ Mr Benedict’s sombre eyes followed his son. ‘I’ve asked too much of him. Give him a chance to work things out.’

‘See what I mean?’ I whispered to Tina.

‘Yeah, I do. What was that about?’

‘I dunno—I really don’t.’ I needed her advice so badly; she was rapidly becoming the Obi Wan to my clueless apprentice. I hoped she understood boys, or at least Zed, better than I did.

‘That was weird.’

The windscreen wipers swished to and fro as the rain began to fall in earnest: he hates me, he hates me not, he hates me …

‘You’ve not been pestering him, have you?’ Tina asked after a pause.

‘No, of course not.’ I kept quiet about the number of times I had looked out for him at school. She didn’t need to know the details of my pitiful obsession with the guy. Today had cured me of that.

‘You wouldn’t be the first. Lots of girls throw themselves at him, hoping to be the one.’

‘Then they’re seriously stupid.’

‘After what he said, I’d have to agree with you. There’s a lot of anger in that boy and I wouldn’t want to be around when it gets out.’

 

I spent the evening and much of the night pondering Tina’s warning, transposing it in my mind to fit her new role in my internal storyboarding:
the force is strong in this one but the boy
has much anger.
Good advice, Obi Tina. Zed was too much for me to handle. Leave the Wolfman to chew on his own resentments. I was making light of it, but part of me instinctively cringed away from violent emotions like his, knowing that they could hurt. I had an uneasy sense I’d once lived too close to someone who flew into rages—someone from the time before I was found. I knew that harsh words became fists and bruises. Added to this, I was furious with myself. I had to be the prize idiot for obsessing about hearing Zed’s voice when I was in danger. I needed to get a grip and leave the whole Zed thing well alone.

My good intentions were still intact as I crossed the school car park with Tina the following morning, that was until I saw the look I got from Zed. He was standing with the other boys by the motorbikes, arms folded, scanning the crowds entering the building. When he saw me arrive, he took one long examination and then, as if deciding I didn’t measure up, dismissed me.

‘Ignore him,’ murmured Tina, seeing the exchange.

How could I? I wanted to go over and slap him, but, let’s be honest here, I’m not the kind to have the guts to make a scene like that. I was sure I’d get halfway and bottle out. I’d promised myself I’d leave it alone.

Go on, do it, my anger told me. Girl or mouse?

Mouse every time.

Every time but this. There was just something about Zed Benedict that was like a match to my fuse and I was fizzing up to the point of explosion.

‘Excuse me a moment, Tina.’

Before I knew it, I had changed direction and started towards him. I was having an Aretha Franklin moment—‘Sisters are doin’ it for themselves’ blasted through my head, giving me the foolhardy courage to close the gap. The intent behind my furious charge must have transmitted itself to the other students because I could see heads swivelling towards me.

‘Just what is your problem?’ Whoa, had I really said that?

‘What?’ Zed dug in his pocket and pulled out his shades, putting them on so I was now looking at myself in double in the reflection. The four other boys were smirking at me, waiting for Zed to slap me down.

‘I almost get drowned yesterday thanks to you and you made it sound like it was my fault.’

He stared at me silently, an intimidating tactic that
almost
worked.

‘You were more to blame than I was for what happened in the raft.’ Aretha was leaving me, her voice dying to a whisper.

‘
I was to blame
?’ His tone was marvelling that someone dare address him like this to his face.

‘I knew zilch about rafting—you were the expert—go figure who was most in the wrong.’

‘Who’s the angry chick, Zed?’ asked one of his friends.

He shrugged. ‘No one.’

I felt the punch—and it hurt. ‘I am not “no one”. At least I’m not an arrogant pain-in-the-backside with a permanent sneer.’
Shut up, Sky, shut up
. I must have developed a death wish.

His friends howled at that.

‘Zed, she’s got you nailed,’ said the one with slicked-back red hair, looking at me with new interest.

‘Yeah, she’s something else.’ Zed shrugged and nodded his head into the building. ‘Run along, BoPeep.’

Mustering all the dignity I could, I clutched my books to my chest and strode into school, Tina at my side.

‘What was that?’ she marvelled, touching my forehead to see if I was running a temperature.

I puffed out the breath I’d not been aware I was holding. ‘That was me being angry. Was I convincing?’

‘Er … some.’

‘That bad?’

‘No, you were great!’ She didn’t sound very certain. ‘Zed had it coming. Just you’d better get good at hiding when you see him coming; he’s not going to be pleased you ripped into him in front of his mates.’

I hid my face in my hands. ‘I did, didn’t I?’

‘Yeah, you did. He isn’t used to girls criticizing him—they’re usually too much in awe. You know he’s the hottest date in Wrickenridge, right?’

‘Yeah, well, I wouldn’t date him if he were the last breath of air on the planet.’

‘Ouch, that’s harsh!’

‘No, it’s fair.’

Tina patted my arm consolingly. ‘I wouldn’t worry. He’d never look at you in a million years.’

After that conversation, I watched the hallways like a commando in enemy territory so I could take cover if I saw Zed coming. At least I now had a group of friends to hide amongst should he decide to retaliate with some choice sneers for my outburst. First was Obi Tina, of course, but Zoe, who would fit the role of a slightly wicked Catwoman with her sense of humour, along with the original Elasto-man Nelson were also now part of my gang. They stood up for me against the Vampire Brides, Sheena and Co., who continued to pick on me, partly I think because they sensed I was vulnerable. VBs have this thing for drawing blood. Word must have gone round about the scene in the car park, with people coming to the understandable conclusion that I had a streak of insanity. Tina, Zoe, and Nelson were all that stood between me and a fringe life with the misfits. I could picture them in my head, my three defenders, arms folded, standing as a shield between me and all harm, cloaks rippling in the breeze, cue swelling heroic music … and cut.

I really had to get out more. These daydreams were invading every part of my life.

On the last Friday in September, I received some unwelcome news from Tina on our way to school in her car.

‘We
all
have to show up to play soccer, boys and girls?’ I asked her, horrified by the notion.

‘Yeah, it’s a junior year tradition before first snowfall so that means first Monday in October. It’s supposed to build team spirit or something.’ Tina blew a bubble with her gum and let it pop. ‘As well as show up any hidden talent to the coach. I personally think Mr Joe is behind it—you must realize by now he’s the power behind the throne in the school. He likes the chance to pretend he’s a coach.’

She didn’t seem too bothered by the prospect, not like I was.

‘This is worse than dental surgery.’ I hugged my arms defensively across my chest.

‘Why? I thought you Brits loved soccer. We’re all expecting great things from you.’

‘I suck at sports.’

Tina laughed. ‘Too bad.’

After pleading with my dad for him to explain the offside rule, I realized that I was heading for another disaster. But there was no escape. The whole year group—all one hundred of us—were told to report to the coaches out on the bleachers on Monday. The computer had selected a random collection of names to make up the teams. Mr Joe, in a misguided attempt at making the English girl feel at home in her national sport, crowned me captain of team B, which meant we were the first to play against A. And guess who was their captain?

‘OK, Zed, you win the toss.’ Mr Joe tucked the coin away and blew his whistle. He had really entered into the spirit of the game, even having one of those little notebook-thingies in his top pocket. ‘It’s fifteen minutes each way. Good luck!’ He patted me on the shoulder in passing. ‘Now’s your chance to shine, Sky. Do England proud!’

I was sure this place was going to crop up in my nightmares from here on: rows upon rows of people watching from the bleachers and me without a clue what to do. It was like those dreams where you go out naked.

Major humiliation. Duffy started begging for mercy on my internal soundtrack.

‘OK, captain.’ Nelson grinned at me. ‘Where do you want us?’

The only position I knew well were centre forward and goalie. I put Nelson up front and myself in goal.

‘Are you sure,’ asked Sheena. ‘Aren’t you, like, a bit short for a defender?’

‘No, it’s fine. I’m best back here.’ Out of harm’s way, I meant. ‘The rest of you … um … share out the other positions—do what you do best.’

After kick off, I found that I had seriously miscalculated. I’d forgotten that when the opposition are captained by a player who makes minced meat of your defensive line—half of whom had as shaky a grasp of the game as I—then the goalie suddenly has a very busy time indeed.

We were 5–0 down after ten minutes. My team began making mutinous noises. If the strikers on Zed’s team had left me alone for a moment, I would have dug a hole in the goal and hidden in it.

At half time we were a mammoth nine goals behind. I’d let in ten, but Nelson had achieved a miracle and scored once. My team gathered round me, the spirit of the lynch mob in the air.

‘Tactics?’ sneered Sheena.

Invite a meteor to fall on the pitch, obliterating my goal? Drop dead from plague? Stop it, Sky: this wasn’t helping.

‘Um … well—well done, Nelson, great goal. Let’s have more of those, please.’

‘That’s it? Your tactics?
More goals, please?
’ Sheena inspected her nails. ‘Sheesh, look, I broke one. Do you think they’d let me retire injured?’

‘I don’t play football—I mean soccer—back home. I didn’t want to be captain. Sorry.’ I gave a pathetic shrug.

‘This is so humiliating,’ grumbled Neil, who until then had always been quite nice to me. ‘Mr Joe promised you’d be great.’

I was beginning to feel a lot like crying. ‘Then he was wrong, wasn’t he? Expecting me to be good at football is like expecting all Welsh people to be able to sing.’ My team looked blank. OK, so they hadn’t heard of Wales. ‘Just stop letting so many of them past you with the ball and then I wouldn’t have to save so many.’

‘Save!’ Sheena shrieked with derision. ‘You’ve not saved a single one. And if you do, I’ll eat my sneakers.’

The whistle blew for the second half. I trekked up field to my goal, only to be stopped by Zed. ‘What now?’ I snapped. ‘Gonna rub it in some more that I’m rubbish? No need, my team’s done that already.’

He looked over my head. ‘No, Sky, I was going to tell you that you’re down that end this half.’

Sheesh, I
was
going to cry. I scrubbed my wrist over my eyes and pivoted on the spot to set off for the other end of the pitch. I had to run the gauntlet of mocking faces.

I blinked. Zed’s team were all surrounded by the raspberry pink glow of amusement. Mine had a charcoal grey aura shot through with red. Was I really seeing this—or imagining it? Stop it!

Sometimes I’m such a nutcase.

The massacre—sorry, game—continued until it was embarrassing for everyone, even the spectators. I’d not managed to save a thing. Then Sheena brought Zed down in the box and I was facing a penalty. The jeers and laughter from the stands grew louder as all realized that a classic high school moment was in the making: Zed, the best player in the year, was facing the talent-challenged foreigner.

‘Go on, Sky, you can do it!’ yelled Tina from the bleachers.

No, I couldn’t, but there spoke a true friend.

I stood in the centre of my wretched goal and faced Zed. To my astonishment, he wasn’t gloating; if anything, he looked a bit sorry for me—that’s how pathetic I was. He placed the ball carefully on the spot and glanced up at me.

Dive to your left.

His voice in my head again. I was certifiable. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my brain.

Zed held my gaze.
Dive to your left.

What the hell: I was now so far gone I was hallucinating. I had no hope of stopping the ball, so I could at least make a flamboyant, if hopelessly unnecessary, dive. Maybe I’d knock myself out on the post—let’s think on the bright side.

Zed ran up, kicked, and I spreadeagled myself sideways to the left.

Ooof! The ball struck me square in the stomach. I curled round it in agony.

An enormous cheer went up—even from Zed’s team mates.

‘I can’t believe it—she saved it!’ yelped Tina, doing a celebratory dance with Zoe.

A hand appeared in front of my eyes.

‘Are you OK?’

Zed.

‘I saved it.’

‘Yeah, we saw.’ He cracked a smile and pulled me up.

‘Did you help me?’

‘Now why would I do that?’ He turned his back, reverting to the rude Zed of our first acquaintance. Great.

Thank you very much,
O
mighty one.

Spurred on by irritation, I’d acted on instinct and sent the thought the same way I’d heard his voice. It was as if I’d taken a plank of wood to his head. Zed spun round, reeling, to stare at me—I couldn’t tell if he was horrified or amazed. I froze, momentarily stunned, as if I’d just brushed against a live electric fence. I clamped down on the shriek of emotion shooting through me. He hadn’t heard my sarcasm, had he? That was just … just impossible.

Mr Joe jogged between us, blowing his little whistle. ‘Well done, Sky. I knew you had it in you. Only one minute to go—get the ball back in play.’

We still lost. 25–1.

In the girls’ changing room, I played with my shoelaces thoughtfully, not really having the desire to get started on the shower with so many people around. Quite a few girls came over to say something about my performance on the pitch, most finding my fluke save off Zed Benedict a cause of great hilarity. That one act seemed to wipe out my tragic performance in goal. Sheena’s friends were ribbing her that she’d have to eat barbecued sneaker for dinner.