Kiss the Sky by Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie Page B

skin, the waviness of his brown hair, and the curve of his muscles
in his arms and chest, beneath a sophisticated button-down and behind those
all-knowing blue eyes.
    He is power and perfection in so many ways that I will never
admit aloud. His head would be humongous by the fact. But when I was younger, I
often thought about what it would be like to be with him, physically.
    I was sixteen when I first pictured Connor inside of me, and
the most contact I had with him was verbally fighting at Model UN Conferences.
Literally, we’d stand in the hallways of a fancy hotel and argue about Epicurus
and his philosophy on intangible things like love, happiness and God. Once
Connor went off on a tangent in French ,
I tried to keep up. I vowed to be better than him. And so I studied harder. I opened
more books. I made sure I was fluent enough to understand him and then more—to
stump him. I never did, but I also never fell behind.
    I am smart only because I spent hours reading. Connor is
smart because he’s naturally gifted, but he does study harder than even the
average person. I envy him—that he can carry all of these talents and never be
weighed down by setbacks and hardships. He just keeps moving forward.
    He makes me believe that anything is possible. I don’t think
I’ll ever find someone quite like Connor Cobalt.
    He places a hand on my neck and his thumb rubs a sensitive
place that sends chills down my spine.
    I’m glad to have him, even if I was fine with being alone
and single beforehand. How we came to this place still feels like a cosmic alignment.
Out of the blue, I learned he was Lily’s economics tutor at the University of
Pennsylvania. It wasn’t a ruse to get closer to me. He had no idea she was my
sister at first, and Lily chose him at random. At the time, Connor and I only
saw each other once a year when Princeton and Penn competed in a Quiz Bowl
Tournament, and this was a chance for him to meet me more often. For us to
reunite.
    And Connor’s never been one to squander an opportunity.
    So when he saw me at Lily’s old apartment, he asked me on a
date. I said yes because he was challenging me to step out of my comfort zone,
as he’s done all these years. I wonder if having sex will be the day where
everything ends, where our journey of losing and finding each other will
finally come to a close.  
    I turn back to Ryke who has not moved his boots. I make sure that he
meets my glare.
    He holds up his hands in surrender. “Look, if we’re going to
live together then we need to establish some fucking rules.”
    Madame Charmaine cuts into our discussion. “You’re single
now but you will find someone very soon,” she tells Daisy.
    “Well that’s not right,” Daisy says, the cameras rotating to
her. “I already have a boyfriend.”
    Ryke’s boots finally fall to the
floor. “Since when?”
    “Since last week.”
    Madame Charmaine holds up a finger. “Aha!” she exclaims. “ Soon. Very soon.”
    “So soon that the events have already happened,” Connor
says. “Are we changing the definition of precognition today? Shall I call
Merriam-Webster?”
    Lo breaks into a grin. “You’re nasty today, Connor.”
    “I have a limit on bullshit. Magic tips the scale.”
    “It’s not magic,” Madame Charmaine rebuts with ease. “I have
the sight. ”
    Connor pauses. “…like I was saying.”
    “Why haven’t any of us met your boyfriend?” I ask Daisy,
trying to steer this to a better direction, one that doesn’t make Connor look
like a bigger prick than he really is. But I have a feeling Scott will edit him
in the worst light no matter what.
    Before she answers, Ryke whispers
in her ear, and they both suddenly stand at the same time. We’re all on edge
until Ryke sits on the floor, taking her spot, and
she settles in his chair, her legs crossed underneath her.
    Ryke has his nice moments. I’ll
admit that.
    “Daisy,” I say. “Did you hear me?”
    “Yeah…um.” She swats her hair out of