The Trouble with Flying by Rachel Morgan Page B

reply, I add, “Jerky, I think the Americans call it, although the South African version is obviously better.”
    “Oh, right,” Aiden says. “I know what you’re talking about.”
    “Do you like it?”
    “I think it’s one of the most revolting items of food ever created by man.”
    I turn around and stare at him with my hands on my hips. “What? It’s delicious!”
    “I’m sure it is,” he says, wiping his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “To those who can stomach the idea of it.”
    “But it’s meat . Real men like meat, don’t they?” I say with a teasing smile.
    He gives me that awesome grin of his. The one I haven’t seen since the airport. The one that shows off his dimple. “Oh, I like meat. I just prefer it when it isn’t both raw and shrivelled up at the same time.”
    I configure my face into an offended expression. “Biltong isn’t shrivelled up.”
    “Whatever you say.” He waves me forward with his hands. “Keep walking. We’re getting left behind.”
    The large rock Matt and Malcolm were standing on marks the end of the log stairs. I fit my fingers into the cracks along the side and pull myself up, trying not to think about the excellent view Aiden currently has of my butt. I scramble onto the rock and stand. Aiden pulls himself up easily while I spot the next blue arrow painted on the rough surface next to my feet. It wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t, though, because we could simply follow the sound of Simone whining about how hot it is and Elize telling her to stop being a baby.
    “So, your sister’s fiancé,” I say to Aiden. “Do you like him?”
    “Uh, yeah. He’s cool. I’m happy for the two of them.”
    If I’m hoping to find out what that weird moment between Aiden and Emily was all about earlier, I’m probably going to have to be more direct with my questions. You can do it, Sarah. Ask a personal question without messing up and having it come out totally weird. “Um, earlier when we were in the lounge getting ready for the walk, Elize asked—”
    “There you are,” Matt says as Aiden and I climb around a boulder and find him and Malcolm sitting on a ledge sticking out over open space. Emily, Aunt Hannah, Simone, and Elize appear to be helping themselves to a box of biscuits from Matt’s backpack. “You guys are taking forever.”
    “Stop exaggerating,” Emily says. “We only got here, like, five seconds ago.”
    “Okay, fine,” Malcolm says. “You’re all taking forever, then. Matt and I have been sitting here for at least ten minutes.”
    “And we were watching those clouds over there and thinking we should probably turn back,” Matt adds.
    I look to where he’s pointing and see dark, heavy clouds gathering in the distance.
    “What?” Elize says around a mouthful of biscuit. “Those clouds weren’t there just now.”
    “That’s what happens around here,” Matt says as he climbs to his feet. “Storms appear out of nowhere in the afternoon, fling lightning, thunder, and buckets of rain all over the place, then disappear twenty minutes later. It’s not something we want to get caught in.”
    “So that’s it?” Aunt Hannah asks. “This is as far as we’re going?”
    “Yip. We could come back tomorrow, though, if you want to see the view from the top.”
    “ Nee dankie ,” Simone mutters.
    “Oh, no, that’s all right,” Aunt Hannah says. “I heard we might be having a relaxing day on the lake tomorrow.” She zips up Matt’s backpack and returns it to him.
    “Down we go, then,” Malcolm says, jumping up and pushing ahead of Matt so he can be at the front of the trail.
    “Wait, Matt,” I say. “Can I go just a little bit further? I want to see that foresty bit with the waterfall. Remember? It was so beautiful. Like a fairy land.”
    “Sarah, the storm’s coming,” Matt says with the tone of a long-suffering parent.
    “I know, but it won’t take long. Aiden can come with me, and we’ll just be a few minutes