Starcrossed

by Brenda Hiatt

  “I’m sure you’ll agree that these children need to understand just how deplorably they have behaved tonight,” my aunt continued icily before they even sat down.

  “We certainly do,” Mr. Stuart said, frowning thunderously at Rigel.

  Even Dr. Stuart, who was usually so nice, looked seriously angry. “I must apologize for our son’s part in this,” she said. “You can be sure such a thing will never happen again.”

  “It most certainly will not!” Aunt Theresa exclaimed. “For my part, I intend to keep an extremely close eye on Marsha for the foreseeable future, in addition to the restrictions I’ll be putting on her activities. I’d like your assurance that you’ll do the same with your son.”

  Dr. Stuart turned pink but I couldn’t tell whether she was ticked that Aunt Theresa was telling her what to do, or just mad at Rigel. And me.

  “I’d like to add my apology to my wife’s,” Mr. Stuart said before she could reply. “In the past, we’ve found Rigel to be very trustworthy, but I assure you he will now have to re-earn our trust.” He pinned Rigel with his eyes, then glanced at me, still frowning. “Both of you showed incredibly poor judgment tonight. I hope you realize that. I can’t imagine what you were thinking.”

  I nodded and Rigel mumbled a “Yes, Sir,” but I knew he was seething inside as much as I was. The Stuarts knew perfectly well why we needed to talk, after that bombshell last night, then everybody keeping us apart at church.

  Yeah, maybe it would have been smarter for us to wait until school tomorrow, but we needed to talk about stuff we couldn’t risk people hearing. Stuff they wouldn’t want anybody at school to overhear. They had to understand that. But neither of them looked very understanding at the moment.

  Aunt Theresa turned her glare back on me. “Marsha, you are not to spend time in this boy’s company again. I’m telling you in front of his parents so that they will know where I stand on this.”

  She glanced at the Stuarts and they both nodded. I looked in vain for some trace of sympathy in their expressions but didn’t see any.

  “Did you hear me, Marsha?” my aunt said. “I want your word on this—no contact.”

  I stared at her incredulously. “What? You mean, at all? But we—” I stopped myself just in time from blurting out that we’d both get sick. The Stuarts knew, though. Didn’t they? “We have some classes together at school,” I finished, squashing down my panic so I could sound reasonable. “We . . . we can’t stay completely apart.”

  “Which is why I want your word, Marsha. Other than absolutely necessary communication for strictly academic reasons, you will keep your distance even at school. Am I clear? Or must I contact your teachers about this?”

  I felt tears welling up at the injustice, at the thought of how awful this would be. I didn’t try to stop myself from crying, hoping if I was pathetic enough, the Stuarts might relent even if Aunt Theresa never would.

  Instead, Mr. Stuart said, “Rigel, I’d like the same promise from you. I agree it will be best if you two avoid each other for a while.”

  Now Rigel’s head snapped up. “But—”

  “No buts. Not now. Promise me.”

  Even from across the room I could see Rigel swallow, feel the anger, fear and desperation flowing from him. But his father held his rebellious gaze until he reluctantly nodded—then immediately sent a glance my way that held both apology and defiance.

  “Marsha?” Aunt Theresa demanded.

  “Fine,” I muttered. I refused to give her more than that, since this was a promise I had no intention of keeping. I was just glad the Stuarts hadn’t asked for my promise, too, since I’d feel a lot worse breaking my word to them. Not that it would stop me.

  For a long moment, all three adults just looked at us. I stared at my lap, so I couldn’t see their expressions—or Rigel’s. I just hoped he was as determined as I was to find a way around this horrible new restriction.

  With a surge of mingled hope and fear, I suddenly remembered my backpack upstairs. Running away was still an option. Maybe our our only option.

  “Very well,” my aunt said at last. “That will do for now. I’ll leave it to you,” she said to the Stuarts, “to determine any further punishment for your son. I appreciate you coming.”

  Since that was clearly a dismissal, they rose, still looking relentlessly grim. Rigel and I managed one more long, desperate glance as they moved to the door, but if he was trying to send any thoughts at me, I was too upset to receive them.

  Then they were gone.

  CHAPTER 20

  cannarc (KAN-ark): rebellion; mutiny; resistance

  My eyes were crusty when I woke up the next morning, and it took me a few seconds to remember why.

  Oh, that’s right. I’d cried myself to sleep. And now, as the disastrous events of last night came crashing back, it was all I could do not to start crying all over again.

  Aunt Theresa had lectured herself hoarse about just how thoroughly I’d disappointed her by sneaking out, enumerating all the reasons my friends, and especially my boyfriend, were “bad influences.” I’d tuned her out early on, but there was no tuning out the consequences.

  I was grounded. More than grounded. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere but school and church, not even taekwondo, for the rest of the semester. Instead, I’d have a whole bunch of new chores around the house. Worst of all, I was forbidden to see Rigel or even any of my friends outside of school, until further notice.

  My life was going to suck beyond all reason for the foreseeable future.

  “Wow, M, you look awful,” Bri greeted me when she and Deb got on the bus. “You’re not sick again, are you?”

  I knew she was referring to the few weeks in September when Rigel and I had pretended to break up and had stayed away from each other. Both of us had been a mess then, mentally and physically.

  “No.” I would be soon, though, if I adhered to the letter of my restriction. Which was one reason I had no plans to do so. “I’m grounded, though. My aunt got super pissed when I came home late from Rigel’s party.”

  I saw no point telling them about last night. I’d been careful to sit well away from Molly, and Sean hardly ever took the bus anymore, getting rides from teammates with cars.

  “Guess it’s just as well you didn’t come with us to the after-party at Nicole’s, then,” Deb said.

  Bri nodded. “Yeah, we didn’t leave there till midnight. But what a party! Deb had to do some quick talking to convince her mom we’d been with you, then spent too long at my house picking up my stuff for our sleepover. But how is your aunt grounding you? I mean, it’s not like you’re ever allowed to do much of anything anyway.”

  Like I needed reminding. “Now I’m really not allowed to do anything. She’d even be mad if she knew I was talking to you guys right now. I’m supposed to be in seclusion or something—not talk to anybody except when I absolutely have to for school. She practically made me take a vow of silence.”

  “And celibacy?” Bri giggled. Then, at my look, she added, “Oh, come on, M, I’m kidding. But you’ve already told us your aunt doesn’t approve of Rigel.”

  “Yeah, well, she approves even less now,” I said glumly. “He’s number one on the list of people I’m not allowed to talk to.”

  Bri waved a hand. “Pfft! It’s not like she can watch you at school. She already wouldn’t let him come to your house, or you to his unless his parents were home. How is this so different?”

  Her breezy attitude was irritating, but it also cheered me up a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that different? “Unless Rigel takes her rules too seriously.”

  “You told him?” Deb asked.

  “Aunt Theresa told his parents.” I had the dubious satisfaction of seeing them both look shocked. “Yeah. That’s how pissed she was.”

  Maybe I wasn’t being totally fair, since sneaking out at midnight on a school night was arguably worse than coming home late from a chaperoned party. But I wasn’t in a mood to cut my aunt any slack. />
  “Wow, that’s low.” Bri shook her head in sympathy. “How awkward was that?”

  “You have no idea.” I cringed again at the memory of last night in our living room.

  Surely, surely, the Stuarts had just been playing along when they’d agreed to Aunt Theresa’s terms? They knew she had no clue about the truth—who I really was, or about Rigel and me. They couldn’t really intend to enforce Rigel’s promise to stay away from me. Could they?

  I shouldered my way through the crowd as soon as I was off the bus, so I could ask Rigel before class started. To my relief, he was waiting on the sidewalk outside, which would give us a few precious extra minutes.

  But as I hurried over to him, he suddenly looked wary, making me worry all over again. “Hey,” he said, sounding as cautious as he looked.

  “Hey!” I tried to make up for it with my own enthusiasm. “There. Now we’ve already broken the rules, so let’s talk.”

  Rigel let out a breath in obvious relief, then took my hand. I could feel the tension leaving him even as I felt my own nerves unknotting at his touch. “I was afraid you’d—I dunno—”

  “Feel like I had to follow my aunt’s stupid rule? No way. Just one more thing she doesn’t have to know about. But what about you? Your parents? Do they really expect—?”

  He shrugged as we started walking toward the building. “I’m not sure what they expect,” he said in the whisper only I could hear, “but I got a lecture to end all lectures on the way home. About how I’d risked your safety, about betraying their trust, a bunch of crap about Martian politics. I stopped listening about halfway in.”

  “You, too?” I was in complete sympathy. “I thought my aunt would never shut up and go to bed. But . . . I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so mad.”

  He was quiet for a moment. Then, as we reached my locker, he turned to me, pain in his eyes. “M, I am so, so sorry. This whole thing is my fault. If I’d stayed hidden, you probably could have talked your way out of the worst of it. At least, your aunt probably wouldn’t have forbidden you to see me. And my parents wouldn’t know about it at all.”

  “You were defending me,” I reminded him. “It was actually kind of sweet. Though, yeah, it probably would have been better if you hadn’t.”

  Rigel gave a half smile, but then shook his head fiercely. “No. I should never have suggested that meeting in the first place. We could have held out till today, and then we wouldn’t—”

  “If you hadn’t suggested it, I would have. This is not your fault, Rigel! You didn’t make up all those stupid Martian rules, or move the O’Garas to Jewel, or . . . or even intend to get yourself bonded to me.” I stopped at the look on his face.

  “You think I regret that part?” He sounded almost angry. “No matter what happens, I’ll never regret that. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, M, don’t you know that by now? But I’m worried I’ve totally screwed things up for you. Screwed up your future.”

  I shook my head as fiercely as he had. “I don’t want any future that doesn’t include you, Rigel. Period. We’ll run away first. Screw whatever political—”

  I was cut off by the warning bell. Maybe just as well, since we were getting so intense people were shooting curious looks our way, even though (or maybe because) our whole conversation had been in inaudible—to them—whispers.

  “We’ll figure something out. Somehow,” Rigel promised.

  He hadn’t responded about running away, but I couldn’t help thinking about it during Geometry. And the more I thought about that particular solution, the less scary and the more obvious it seemed.

  We had three classes together before lunch, but no more opportunity to talk even semi-privately. We swung past the courtyard on the way to the cafeteria, but an icy drizzle had started falling. So after we got our lunches, I made a quick excuse to Bri, Deb and Molly about needing some alone time and we grabbed a table in the corner.

  “Finally!” Rigel said as we sat side by side, facing the lunchroom so we could see any potential interruptions coming. “Okay. First off, I want to know what the O’Garas said Saturday night, after you left my house. What are they going to make you do?”

  I frowned at him in confusion. “Make me do? They can’t make me do anything. And they didn’t say much, except to apologize for Allister. I still pretty much lambasted Sean—well, all of them—for knowing about this stupid Consort thing all along and not telling me.”

  “Yeah, I came down pretty hard on my parents, too,” Rigel said. “They swear they had no idea about Sean, but they did know about the whole Consort thing. I can’t believe they never said a word to either of us, just let us go on thinking we could . . . that it was . . .”

  “You said we’d figure something out and we will,” I reminded him, taking his hand. “It will be okay, Rigel. You’ll see.”

  The pain was back in his eyes when he looked at me. “Will it, M? I just can’t see how. We can’t really run away—though I won’t say I haven’t thought about it.”

  “So have I—a lot. And why can’t we?” I demanded. “Seriously, if running away is the only way we can be together, I’m totally in.”

  He grabbed both of my hands. “Really, M? You’d do that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He smiled a little—the first real smile I’d seen from him today—as he realized I meant it, but then he turned serious again. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me, but . . . we need to find another way. Think of the uproar it would cause—not only the O’Garas and the Council and all, but your folks and the town and the school and everything. It might even break everything—everything!—out into the open.”

  Even if he was right, at the moment I hardly cared. “Being together matters more to me, Rigel. More than absolutely anything else.”

  He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “Same here.” But the sadness was back.

  Something niggled at me, and after a moment I realized it was the familiarity of the expression in his eyes. It was the same sadness I’d noticed last week, only more pronounced now. “You suspected, didn’t you?” It came out almost as an accusation. “After the O’Garas got here, I mean. You knew all along something was up with Sean.”

  He shrugged, still sad. “I didn’t know about this—this Royal Consort business. But them coming here, the way Sean was acting toward me, it forced me to really think about who you are. Your position, I mean. And to wonder just where I could fit in, longterm.”

  I tightened my grip on his hands. “With me! That’s where you fit in. Always with me. How can you doubt that? You think, what, all this Sovereign stuff will go to my head and I’ll think I’m too good for you or something?” I let out something between a laugh and a sob at the absurdity of the idea. “Every girl in this lunchroom wishes she was sitting here with you, Rigel. I am totally aware, every minute of every day, just how lucky I am!”

  He managed a grudging smile. “Thanks, M. Sorry I’m being such a downer. It’s just . . . the thought of losing you makes me a little crazy.”

  “Ditto.” I was emphatic. “But that’s not going to happen. No matter what. So let’s eat. And strategize how we’re going to get around this grounding thing for the next few days.”

  He nodded, but then frowned across the cafeteria. I followed his gaze and saw Sean sitting at our regular table, next to Molly, talking to Bri and Deb. As we watched, the whole group turned and looked at us.

  Feeling both pissed and amused, I waved cheerily at them, then turned back to Rigel. “Gee, wonder what they’re all talking about?” I couldn’t quite keep the sourness out of my voice.

  Oddly, he was suddenly more upbeat than just a moment ago. “Who cares? Because you’re right. We’re together now, no matter what happens later. I’ll talk my parents around—half of that grounding thing was a show for your aunt anyway—and you can work on convincing her we can be trusted.”

  “Oh, sure! Piece of cake. Running away would be a whole lot easier.”


  “Hey, I didn’t say it would be easy. Baby steps. We’re still way ahead of where we were a few weeks ago, when we thought were about to die. Right?”

  I couldn’t disagree. “Right.”

  “There you go, then. Eat.”

  And I did, soaking up all the Rigel-ness I could while I had the chance.

  CHAPTER 21

  breag fionn (brag fin): discover a lie; detect a falsehood

  Rigel and I didn’t get another chance for private conversation that day, except for a few seconds just before boarding our separate buses to go home, when we managed a quick goodbye kiss.

  “Guess I won’t see you till tomorrow,” I said wistfully.

  “Guess not. But I’ll be thinking about you constantly till then,” Rigel promised. “Love you, M.”

  He boarded his bus and I turned reluctantly to mine. It was going to be a long afternoon, evening and night.

  Molly came running up as I joined Bri and Deb in the line for our bus. I half hoped she’d seen that kiss, but if so she didn’t mention it.

  “I have to be at cheerleading in a minute,” she panted, “but you’re coming over tonight, right?”

  “I can’t.” My regret was only partly feigned. “I’m, like, totally grounded right now.”

  Her eyes got big. “What? Why? Just because you got home a little late Saturday night? Your aunt seemed mostly okay about it yesterday.”

  I just shrugged. I hadn’t told Bri and Deb the truth, and I definitely didn’t want to tell Molly. After all, what was the point? All they needed to know was the result.

  “Do you want my mum to talk to your aunt?” Molly persisted, like a dog with a bone.

  Aunt Theresa would undoubtedly spill the beans if she did, so I shook my head. “I think we’d better let her cool down first.”

  Not that anything they could say would change her mind—or like any of the O’Garas would even want to change Aunt Theresa’s mind if they knew the point of my grounding was to keep me away from Rigel. Still, if they could get her to lighten up a little, he and I might manage an occasional clandestine meeting.