Sorry i hardly ever comment on stories, but i never know what to say! Hope you enjoyed the last 7 chapters, i'm updating quickly because i have nothing else to do and am really encouraged by the reviews, so keep them coming!

Than night I didn't go to bed as usual. I stayed in my room, staring out the window in the direction of Sky's house. I wondered if she was doing the same and realised I probably didn't want to know the answer to that. It would just upset me.

Is this what you're going to do? Zed asked himself, You're going to roll over and take it? No! Girls want to be fought for, and there's no way I'm going to let Sky slip from my grasp.

Before I knew it, I was standing outside Sky's bedroom window. I could feel that heat, that buzz that told me she was in there. I smiled at a conveniently placed tree and pulled myself up it, placing myself on the branch closest to the window. Then, I closed my eyes and concentrated – she was my soulfinder. She would sense that I was there. I opened my eyes and found myself face-to-face with a wide-eyed Sky, dressed in large, mismatching PJ's. Oh, I was so not going to forget this.

"Sheesh!" she gasped, looking like she was on the verge of a heart attack, and threw the window open.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed "Get down, go away."

"Invite me in." I said, wiggling further along the branch.

"Stop – get down!" she flustered, getting herself into a panic.

"No, don't get your dad. I need to talk to you." I sensed the direction of her thoughts and backed off, wriggling all the way back down the branch until my back hit the trunk. She flapped her hands at me like she was shooing a dog.

"Go away! I don't want you here."

"I know." It was obvious I couldn't force my way in, so I relaxed back "Sky, why don't you know you're a savant?" I had come to this conclusion while I was pacing my room, running over our street light conversation in my head.

"I can't answer that when I don't understand the question." I should slam the window in his face – it's like I've been drafted into Romeo and Juliet.

"You heard me speaking to you – in your head. You didn't just follow my hint, you heard words."

"I. . . I. . ." she stuttered.

You answered me. I sent the words to her head and she stared at me.

He's doing it again – telepathy? No, no, projecting – this isn't happening.

"All 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." I sensed her confusion. She was trying to deny it and work out a way of getting me off her 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?" I crossed my arms stubbornly.

"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." That stung. I shoved my hands into my pockets.

"So that's what you think of me?"

She nodded nervously.

"Maybe this is, I dunno, your latest plot to humiliate me in some way – pretending you want me." Shame hit me hard on the chest – had I truly broken down every bridge to my soulfinder?

"You really don't like me, do you?" I laughed emptily "Great, my soulfinder doesn't understand the first thing about me." She folded her arms, but I could see her arms trembling – from cold or fear, I couldn't tell.

"What's there to understand? Jerks are pretty easy to read." Frustration spurred me towards her. She took a step back.

"Get out of my tree." She shakily pointed to the gate. I watched her face, took in the fear and anger in her eyes and nodded.

"OK. But this isn't over, Sky. We've got to talk."

"Get out."

"I'm going." Then I dropped to the ground, but I heard her sob in relief and slam the window shut. And for the rest of the night I could only dwell on how my one hope at salvation seemed to hate and fear me.

The next few days I made every effort to see Sky in school. At every turn I ran into her, and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. But just as I made every effort to see Sky, she made every effort to avoid me, taking lifts home and even staying with Mrs Hoffman so she wouldn't be alone at home and risk me popping up. By the end of the week, I'd had enough. On Saturday, with no little trepidation, I turned up on her doorstep in the early morning, the biggest bunch of flowers the florist had in hand. When she opened the door, I thrust them in her bemused face before she could close it again.

"Let's start again," I held out my hand for her to shake "Hi, I'm Zed Benedict. And you are?" she struggled with the flowers and I sensed her delight in the colours – purple and blue, her favourite. Finally, something working out in my favour.

"Go on, this is the easy part," I encouraged "'I am Sky Bright and I'm from England.'" I said in a flamboyant English accent, and she fought the urge to laugh – inside, I couldn't believe how well this was going. I had made her laugh. Me.

"I do not speak like that."

"Sure you do. Go on."

She rolled her eyes but complied: "Hi, I'm Sky Bright. I'm from Richmond, England."

"Now you say 'Wow, what lovely flowers. How about coming in for a nice cup of tea?'" I did my impression again. Sky threw a look over her shoulder – checking for her parents.

"They're asleep. So?" I said and smiled encouragingly.

"Well, they are lovely flowers." She admitted and stepped back, freeing the doorway "Coffee?"

"If you insist." I smiled nervously and entered her house. Sky's house. It was one small step for savant kind, but a massive leap for Zed Benedict.

"Come through to the kitchen." She busied herself switching on the kettle and doing the classic thing women did when they got flowers – she found a vase for them and started cutting the ends off before arranging them "Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I messed up. I want to say sorry." She put the plant food into the water, eyeing me from the side.

"These are a good start." Her thoughts were still somewhat dry and disbelieving though. I started to juggle with the closest object to hand for something to do.

"How does this thing work?" it was the cafetière. She took it from me and showed me how to make the coffee.

"You're not very at home in a kitchen?" she inquired, and somehow I thought she was testing me with the question.

"Family of boys," I shrugged "We've a coffee maker – does great filter coffee."

"And she's called your mum." Sky snorted.

"No way." I laughed "She gets waited on hand and foot in our house."

OK, I can do this, she was thinking, a normal conversation about normal things. Good. I took the mug she offered me and sat at the breakfast bar.

"So tell me something about yourself. I play drums and guitar. How about you?"

"Piano, sax and guitar." She replied casually. We have something in common!

"See, we can talk without me freaking out on you." I smiled.

"Yeah." She peeked at me "You. . . you like all music, or just jazz?"

"All, but I like the freedom to improvise." I patted the place next to me on the bench. She sat down, to my surprise "I like to cut free of what has to be. For me it's a kind of free fall with the notes as the parachute."

"I like that too." She agreed.

"It's musician's music," I continued eagerly "Not so straightforward as some but really repays when you get into it. I mean, you've got to be really confident to launch into an off-the-cuff solo and not make a fool of yourself. Everyone can make mistakes when they rush into something, go in too early."

"I suppose."

Silence. Sky took an awkward sip form her mug as I stared into mine. Finally, I just said what was on my mind:

"You really didn't know." I couldn't help it. How could she possibly not know?

Oh, God, he's going to bring up that savant stuff again. She groaned internally. I shook my head.

"And you've not the faintest idea why I warned you that day. You think I've been trying to scare you."

"Weren't you? All that stuff about knives and blood."

"I didn't mean it like that." I rubbed my thumb across her knuckles gently "It's funny sitting with you. I get so much from you, like you're broadcasting on all frequencies." She frowned. Confusion. Annoyance. Fear. Confusion again.

"What does that mean?" she frowned. I stretched my legs out.

"It's difficult to explain. I'm sorry I've been rude to you."

"Rude?" she spluttered "I just thought that you had some weird allergic reaction to economy-sized English girls."

"Is that what you are?" I looked over at her, peering closely into those eyes of hers.

"Um. . . yeah." She looked at her feet "Still waiting for that growth spurt Sally's been promising since I was fourteen."

"Your height's perfect. I come from a family of giant redwoods – a bonsai makes a pleasant change." I half-joked. She shyly let it pass, to my disappointment.

"So you're not going to explain what's been the problem with me?"

"Not today. I've messed it up once; I'm not going to risk spoiling it a second time. This is too important." I picked her hand up and punched myself with it. I knew she had wanted to do it anyway.

"There – I deserved that."

"You're crazy."

"Yep, that's me." I smiled at her and released her hand "OK, I'll head out now. I don't want to push my luck. It was good meeting you, Sky. See you around."

Sky's parent may have been clueless to their daughter's early morning visitor, but i wasn't so lucky when I got home.

"Where have you been?" Mum immediately dug into me in the kitchen, the whole family watching for my reply.

"Out," I replied, casually going about making myself a bowl of cereal as if nothing was wrong "getting some fresh air, that's all. You needn't worry I was out robbing a band or something. I was just driving."

"Hmmm," Mum let it go, but I could see she was going to press me about it later.

"Don't bother, Mum." I stopped her, reaching around her to get to the cutlery draw "I'm not going into any more detail." The vision disappeared. That put her off.

"Any updates on Sky?" Dad asked casually. I dropped my spoon; it landed handle-first into my bowl of cereal, then flipped out again, spraying milk everywhere as it plummeted to the floor. I cursed and quickly picked it up. He couldn't know already, could he? No – it was impossible. There was no way. But I still looked at him closely.

"Still safe. Haven't had any other visions other than the one when we were rafting and that was weeks ago.

"Good, well, keep an eye on her." He said lazily "We don't want any deaths here. Too much attention."

"And what about Sky?" I snapped before I realised what I was doing "How d'you think she would feel about being stabbed?"

"Calm down, Zed," Xav cautioned.

"Yeah, man, we're just as worried for Sky as we are for us." Yves agreed placating.

"More so," Dad corrected. I doubt that, I thought to myself.

"Yeah – where are we gunna get another great pianist for the jazz band?" joked Yves with a smile. I fought back a growl – he didn't care about Sky, not like I did. No one loved her more than I did. I slammed my bowl of cereal down, making milk and cheerio's fly everywhere.

"Hey, Zed, what are you doing?" moaned Yves, picking up his milk-soaked arm in disgust.

"Yeah, what's up with you, Zed?" protested Xav "I think I preferred it when you were moody."

"I'm going upstairs," I frowned, striding to the stairs "no one disturb me."

"What was that about?" asked Yves to the kitchen when Zed was gone.

"I don't know," said Xav "but I think we should leave the topic of Sky alone for now, don't you?" his announcement was met with a kitchen full of rumbling agreements.