Starcrossed

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Starcrossed Page 5

by Brenda Hiatt


  “Thank you, sir. I’ll, um, ask my aunt.”

  “Do that. If she isn’t keen on the idea, let me know and I can speak to her.”

  I nodded without committing. Though I was flattered, I wasn’t sure competing in an actual tournament, with lots of people watching, was a great idea. I was feeling visible enough these days.

  I changed out of my do bok and headed home, wishing now that Rigel and I had walked faster earlier so we could have had time for more than one kiss. Not that we’d progressed beyond kissing—we were both a little afraid of what could happen, considering what just kissing did to us—but we hadn’t had a good make out session for over a week. It always seemed like someone was watching us or one of us had to be somewhere.

  With a sigh, I trudged past the half dozen jewelry and craft shops on Diamond and turned up Opal toward Garnet Street, remembering our first secret meeting in the cornfield by the school. It had been such a magical afternoon. I’d only learned the truth about Rigel—and myself—a few days earlier and I’d been full of questions. He’d told me all about the graell—our bond—and about some of the Martian political stuff I still needed to learn so much about.

  But what I mostly remembered about that day was the kissing, and how I’d felt when Rigel made it clear he liked me as much as I liked him.

  Of course, my last memory of that clearing in the cornfield wasn’t warm and fuzzy at all, since that’s where the big showdown between Faxon’s forces and my defenders had taken place. If Shim hadn’t been so convincing—and if Rigel and I hadn’t amazed everyone (including ourselves) by creating the lightning bolt that destroyed that awful Ossian Sphere—we’d probably all be dead now and Faxon’s forces would be well on their way to conquering Earth.

  “There you are,” Aunt Theresa greeted me the second I opened the front door. “What took you so long getting home? I hear thunder in the distance.”

  “Sorry.” It never paid to argue with Aunt Theresa.

  “Well, go shower, then come down and snap the beans for me. Then you can do your homework.”

  Something in her voice caught my attention. “Is something wrong?”

  “Wrong? Of course not.” She hmphed. “But I did tell Lili O’Gara that you’d go over there after dinner to tutor Molly and Sean. So we’re eating at seven, whether Louie is home or not.”

  I couldn’t squelch a spurt of resentment. “You told her without asking me? What if I’d had plans?” Not that I did, but still.

  “Plans you haven’t cleared with me?” She arched one iron gray brow in that way that always made me feel like I’d screwed up. “Do you?” she prompted when I didn’t respond.

  “No,” I grudgingly admitted. “I just wish you’d asked me first, that’s all.”

  Now she frowned. “You seemed willing enough when Lili asked you last night.”

  “I am. It’s just . . . Never mind. It’s fine. I’ll go shower.”

  By the time we sat down to dinner—Uncle Louie made it with two minutes to spare—I was over my snit. In fact, I was looking forward to a chance to learn more about the O’Garas, and the village in Ireland, and Mars, and maybe even their actual reason for being here, if there really was more going on than they’d admitted. I ate quickly, then did the dishes in record time.

  “The O’Garas are on Opal, right? What’s the house number?” I asked as I stuffed my history book into my backpack.

  Uncle Louie told me and I headed out. It was starting to drizzle, but the thunder had moved off and I was only going around the corner, so I didn’t bother with an umbrella. Less than five minutes later, I rang the doorbell of a house very similar to ours—a little Victorian with gingerbread trim, a deep front porch and slightly peeling paint.

  I hoped I wasn’t walking into the dragon’s den.

  CHAPTER 8

  omni: a small, multifunctional device developed on Mars

  The doorbell had barely sounded when Sean opened the door and greeted me with a big smile. “Hullo, M, come in, do. Don’t mind the mess.”

  He held the door and I stepped past him into the foyer, noticing again how tall he was. I was careful not to brush against him.

  “Thanks. Is Molly home, too?”

  “Sure look it, in here.” He motioned with his head for me to follow him and we went into a small living room similar to ours. In fact, the house seemed to be laid out almost the same, except in reverse, with the kitchen off to the left, the living room to the right and the stairs straight ahead.

  “Hi, M,” Molly said, looking up from a desk in the corner with a smile. “Thanks for coming.”

  There were a few big moving boxes in the corners, but otherwise it looked like they were nearly settled in already.

  “No problem. Though I can’t imagine you guys really need much help.” Considering how fast Rigel (and now I) could read, I figured they could finish the whole textbook in a day or two.

  Molly shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve ever studied the United States, since we never expected to come here until—”

  “Yeah, I know. Until everybody found out about me.” I crossed the room to join her at the desk and she shoved some books off a chair to make room for me. Sean dragged another chair over and sat on my other side.

  “All we got back home was general Earth History,” he explained, flipping open the textbook on the desk, “so we really could use some help—especially with the stuff that’s not in books, stuff everyone just knows. Afterwards, our folks thought you might, um, have some questions we could answer?”

  I drew in a quick, eager breath. “Now that you mention it—” I began, but just then their mother poked her head around the corner.

  “Ah, welcome, Excellency! Er, M, rather. Can I get you a cup of tea?” Then, before I could answer, she blushed and exclaimed, “Oh, how silly of me! You’ve been raised in America. Of course you don’t want tea. Perhaps a soft drink?”

  Mrs. O’Gara was so embarrassed and eager to please that it made me embarrassed. I hoped she’d stop acting weird around me soon, or I’d start avoiding her—even though it was kind of nice to be fussed over.

  “Actually, tea would be great, thanks,” I said. “I drink tea all the time.”

  “Oh! Oh, that’s lovely.” She seemed way more relieved than the situation called for. “Perhaps something herbal? What do you like?”

  “Oh, uh, anything’s fine. Peppermint, chamomile, whatever you have. Thanks!”

  She nodded and disappeared. In the awkward silence that followed, it felt inappropriate to start peppering them with questions about Mars. Plus, I suddenly felt a little too aware of Sean sitting next to me. Clearing my throat, I turned to Molly.

  “So, did you go to cheerleading practice today?”

  She nodded. “Trina talked me into trying out and . . . I think I may join. It would be a way to meet people. You should do it, too, M.”

  I laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding! I’m positive Trina didn’t suggest that.”

  “Well, no, but—“

  “Trust me, even if I tried out I’d never make the squad. I’m kind of a klutz”—well, I used to be, anyway—“and Trina hates me.”

  Sean made a disbelieving sound. “How could anyone—? Well, her loss, if so.”

  But Molly’s eyebrows drew together worriedly. “I, um, could tell you aren’t exactly friends.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. I doubt there’s anyone in the school she likes less than me. We’ve had a kind of feud going since third grade.” A mostly one-sided feud, with Trina embarrassing me every chance she got. But lately I’d gotten better at defending myself against her—mostly thanks to Rigel, I reminded myself.

  Molly looked alarmed. “In that case, maybe I shouldn’t spend time with her.”

  “What? No! If they want you on the squad, you should totally join.”

  “Um, ladies? History?” Sean prompted, clearly tired of our girl talk.

  But Molly just grimaced at him. “You really think I should?” she asked me.<
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  “Sure. It’s like an express lane to popularity and you’ll probably have fun, too. And, uh, get to cheer for Sean at basketball games.” I glanced at him as I said that and caught him watching me with a strange, quizzical smile. Flustered, I quickly turned back to Molly.

  “You’re sure?” Her brow had unfurrowed and I could tell she really wanted to.

  “Absolutely. Though I can’t promise Trina won’t give you a hard time for being friends with me. That is, if you still—”

  “Of course I want to be friends with you!” Her vehemence was flattering. “It’s what we—” She glanced past me to Sean, then said, “I mean, even if you weren’t . . . who you are, you’re the only other Echtran girl in Jewel. And besides, I think you’re really nice.”

  I couldn’t help smiling, though I wondered what she’d almost said—and whether Sean had stopped her. “Thanks. And ditto.”

  Mrs. O’Gara bustled in with peppermint tea for all of us, made sure I had a napkin and enough sugar, then left us alone again.

  “So, are there any classes besides history you guys need help with?” I asked as soon as their mother was gone, though I really wanted to ask about Mars stuff. Maybe there’d be time later.

  “Not really,” Sean said. “The rest is rather, uh—”

  “Simplistic?” I said when he hesitated. “I guess coming from Mars, our math and science seems pretty primitive, huh?”

  He shrugged, looking sheepish. “Kind of, yeah.”

  “Sean!” Molly protested. “That’s not—”

  “It’s okay,” I reassured her. “I’m not insulted or anything. It just makes sense.”

  She watched my face for a moment, then seemed satisfied I wasn’t upset and nodded.

  “So, history?” I pulled out my own book and started going over what we’d covered so far this year, pointing out the stuff Mrs. George had spent the most time on, which was most likely to be on the next test. Sean seemed especially interested in the U.S. Constitution and branches of government.

  “It’s weird how similar our Nuathan government is in some things and how different in others,” he remarked. “Like, we both have two-house legislatures and a separate judicial system, but we have hereditary Sovereigns instead of elected presidents.”

  “Until Faxon,” I said, and they both grimaced. “Maybe not so strange, though, when you think about it,” I suggested. “I mean, Martians have been on Earth for what, five hundred years now? And communicating with folks back on Mars that whole time. So it makes sense they’d copy anything that seemed to work well here, just like we copied some things from England. Honestly, I’m surprised the monarchy lasted as long in Nuath as it did.”

  “What?” they both exclaimed, looking positively shocked.

  “Oh, no,” Molly protested. “The monarchy has been wonderful for our people. I mean, I don’t really remember it, since I was born around the time Faxon took over, but everybody says how much better it was under the Sovereigns.”

  “Everybody?” I couldn’t help being skeptical, since I knew for a fact at least some Martians hated the monarchy enough to want me dead.

  “Everybody except Faxon’s people.” Sean spoke with conviction. “And I expect most of them are deserting him now, or will soon. Not even the ultra-progressives ever wanted to do away with the monarchy, you know. At least not until Faxon started spreading his lies and buying people off. They just wanted to move more power to the legislature and make the houses more equal.”

  “So, make the Sovereign more of a figurehead, like in England?” I was a lot more interested in Nuathan government and history than the stuff in our textbook.

  “Not at all.” He seemed startled again. “I didn’t realize you never even— Anyway, the Sovereigns have always been wise, compassionate, intuitive, fair—in other words, great leaders and the final word in resolving all kinds of disputes. Nobody wanted to change that. Some just thought more of the day-to-day governing should devolve to the legislature.”

  “So . . . how did the Sovereigns get to be so wise and intuitive and all?”

  “Genetics, mostly. And, uh, training, I guess. Like Molly said—”

  “This was all before your time. I know.” I didn’t think any amount of training would make me the kind of leader they were talking about, not even if I lived to be two hundred years old. Which I might. It was just as well I was on Earth and not Mars, completely apart from the threat Faxon posed. Nobody would expect as much from me here. Would they?

  I was suddenly ready to change the subject. “So, that village where you lived in Ireland—” I began, when Mrs. O’Gara stuck her head around the corner again.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but M’s aunt just called. It’s nine-thirty and she wants her home, as it’s a school night.”

  “Wow, already?” Molly and I said at the same time. Then we looked at each other and giggled. I felt like we were already friends—maybe better friends than I could be with Bri or Deb nowadays.

  “Can you come over again soon?” Molly asked as I zipped up my backpack.

  “I hope so,” I said automatically before remembering Rigel’s theory—and that I wanted to hang out with him as many evenings as I could. If he could. “I’ll ask my aunt.”

  “Did you bring an umbrella, dear?” Mrs. O’Gara asked then. “It’s pouring outside.”

  Oops. “No, but I’ll be okay. It’s not far, and I can run.”

  “Don’t be silly. Sean can walk you.”

  I frowned. “I hate to be so much trouble. I could just borrow an umbrella and give it back tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Sean doesn’t mind, trust me,” Molly said, her eyes twinkling.

  “What do you—?”

  “No, it’s fine,” he assured me with a quelling glance at Molly. “My pleasure. Really.”

  “Um, then thanks. Bye, Molly. See you at school tomorrow.”

  “Bye, M. And thanks!” She sounded genuinely appreciative, even though I’d learned a lot more from them than they’d learned from me.

  It was only as Sean opened the front door that I noticed he didn’t have an umbrella.

  “Um, there’s really no point in both of us getting wet,” I said, peering out at the rain falling in sheets just past the porch overhang.

  “No worries. We’ll stay dry as dust. Come on.”

  Puzzled, I walked with him to the top of the porch stairs. A gust of wind blew a flurry of drops into our faces. “Dry as dust?”

  “One sec.” He pulled something about the size of a pack of gum—or a flash drive—out of his pocket. Suddenly a glowing screen, about six inches square, appeared in midair. It looked like some kind of control panel.

  “Is that a hologram?” I gasped.

  “Basically.” He flashed me a mischievous grin, then touched a spot on the screen, which made a different screen appear. He made his selection on that one, then stuck the device back in his pocket. The screen disappeared.

  “Okay, let’s go,” he said, taking my backpack from me.

  I was briefly reminded of Rigel taking my gear bag this afternoon, but then my attention went back to the rain, which was coming down harder than ever.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” He grinned again and held out the crook of his arm for me to take.

  I hesitated but decided it would be rude to refuse. When I touched his arm I felt that jolt again, though his coat muted it somewhat. He escorted me down the first step and I squinted against the onslaught of wet on my face—except my face stayed dry. All of me stayed dry. I took another step down and so did he. Still dry.

  “How—?”

  “Call it an invisible umbrella,” he said, watching my face with undisguised amusement. “It’s a sort of force shield that keeps the rain off us.”

  I stuck my hand out and watched as the rain sheered away from my skin about an inch before it touched me.

  “Cool! And it’s generated by that thing in your pocket?”

  He nodded. “My omni, yeah.”
>
  “Omni,” I repeated. “So it does other stuff, too?”

  “Loads of other stuff. I’ll show you sometime.”

  Though I was dying for a demonstration right now, I just said, “Okay.”

  “Let’s get you home. I got the impression last night your aunt isn’t someone to mess with.”

  I laughed. “You got that right. But she seems to like you guys, so I probably won’t get in trouble. This time.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  He smiled down at me so warmly I was reminded again of Rigel’s suspicions. I dropped my hand from his arm—and got a face full of rain.

  “Watch out,” Sean said, holding his arm back out to me. He was laughing! “It only works if we’re touching. Sorry, I should have told you.”

  I wiped my face with my sleeve and put my hand back on his arm. “Yeah, that might have been nice.”

  “I really am sorry.” But I thought he still looked amused. “I’m so used to everyone knowing this stuff, I didn’t think to explain it.”

  “That’s okay.” I was starting to feel kind of silly now. “A little water won’t kill me.”

  “Maybe not, but we can’t take chances with our Princess, now, can we? Here.” He pulled out his omni again, the screen appeared, he pushed a couple more holographic buttons, too quickly for me to see what he was doing, and suddenly I was totally dry.

  “Holy crap! How did you do that?” I asked, the last of my irritation swallowed by amazement.

  Again he was laughing at me, but not maliciously. “Just another function, the instavap.”

  “But how does it work? How does it dry just the water on the surface—and in my clothes—but not suck it out of my body?”

  His eyebrows rose. “I guess your science education isn’t as primitive as I thought. It works from the outside in. Because it only lasts a second, it doesn’t have time to dessicate you, though your mouth might feel a little dry.”

  I checked and it did. But only a little, and only for a few seconds. Very cool.

 

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