Starcrossed

by Brenda Hiatt

  Rigel was already in the classroom, looking as impatient as I felt. Before either of us said a word, we clasped hands like we were rescuing each other from drowning—which was almost what it felt like. Being apart from Rigel was a lot like not having enough air, and we’d been apart way too much lately.

  After a few seconds of that wonderful relief, he gave me a crooked grin. “I hear you went to the O’Garas’ house again last night.”

  “What?” I glanced wildly around but of course didn’t see Sean or Molly. “How did—? I was just about to tell you!”

  “Quinn O’Gara came by our house last night. I figured you knew.”

  I shook my head. “Mrs. O told my aunt Molly needed more homework help.” I was debating whether to volunteer the information that Molly hadn’t been home when the bell rang.

  After class, Deb immediately started asking me questions about the assignment, then Molly met us in the hall before I had a chance to say anything else to Rigel. Then Bri got to English before Rigel did and was all about tonight’s basketball scrimmage, so I still couldn’t ask him what Mr. O had been doing at his house.

  I hoped I’d have a chance in Science, since Rigel sat right behind me, but Trina had an ironclad excuse to monopolize him, since she and Rigel were lab partners and we had to turn in topics for our final geology projects next week. I tried to ignore the smug smirk she gave me every time I glanced back.

  I’d given up and started talking with my own partner, Will, about our project, when Trina’s words stopped me cold.

  “You seem to be holding up really well, Rigel, considering how fickle a certain someone seems to be. I guess some girls are all about novelty.”

  I swiveled around to glare at her. “Sounds like you’re describing yourself, Trina,” I snapped. Because it really did.

  She gave me one of her nasty, syrupy smiles. “I don’t know what you mean, Marsha. I’m not the one who ran after the new boy, then dropped him like a rock when someone even newer came along. Everybody knows you’re with Sean O’Gara these days. It’s all over the school. But it won’t be long before he sees through you, just like Rigel did.” She turned her smile to him, losing the nasty tinge.

  “I am not—!” I started to retort, but Trina cut me off.

  “Oh, come on. Walking you to class, sitting all cozy together at lunch? You’ve practically got him on a leash. He told Nate Best you’ve even been spending most evenings at his house lately.”

  She hadn’t said anything Rigel didn’t already know—except that untrue “cozy” crack—but I could feel anger, jealousy and frustration start to build in him. I focused, thinking as hard as I could, Not true! I love you! He gave a terse little nod, but didn’t send anything back, maybe because he was too upset at the moment to communicate that way. I needed to talk, really talk, to him alone. Soon!

  I followed him from the room after class, hoping to get my chance the moment Trina was out of earshot, but there was Sean, waiting to walk me to lunch again. Any sympathy I’d begun to feel for him last night was swallowed up by annoyance, especially when he shot a smug look Rigel’s way.

  Before I could say anything, Rigel brushed past Sean, bumping him—hard—with his shoulder.

  “Hey!” Sean said, shoving him back. “What’s the idea?”

  “Like you don’t know.” Rigel squared his shoulders and Sean did the same, reminding me vividly of their almost-fight in the courtyard last week. Already a small, interested crowd was starting to form.

  I jumped between them before things could escalate. “Rigel. Sean. Stop it. Now.” I didn’t shout, but I spoke really firmly.

  They continued to glare at each other for a long moment, but then Sean relaxed and shrugged. “He started it.”

  “That’s debatable. Rigel?”

  He shrugged, too, though he didn’t really relax. “Whatever. See you later, M.”

  Before I could say another word, he strode off down the hall. I started to go after him, but Sean cleared his throat.

  “Better let him cool down. Besides—“

  “I know. My aunt’s stupid rules—and your spying duties.”

  Sean looked unhappy, which was fine with me. “I told you it wasn’t my idea. Anyway, Stuart needs to control that temper or he could risk . . . well, everything.”

  I glared at him. “Maybe it would be worth it. Get me off the hook.”

  “What do you—?”

  “Never mind,” I snapped, walking quickly toward the lunchroom.

  He didn’t get a chance to ask me again what I meant, what with everyone at lunch talking about tonight’s scrimmage, which was fine with me. Less fine was the way he and Molly hovered all the way to History, then watched Rigel and me like a pair of hawks, so we couldn’t even get two seconds alone.

  My only consolation was another note in my locker at the end of the day, but all it said was: This is driving me nuts! Gotta figure a way to talk SOON. Miss you. –R

  I agreed completely, but didn’t have a solution—except to think longingly about the backpack under my bed.

  On the bus home, Molly, Bri and Deb were all determined to get me to that night’s scrimmage somehow, though if I couldn’t be with Rigel, I didn’t much care. Already my Rigel-deprivation headache was creeping back.

  Because I’d promised, as soon as Aunt Theresa got home, I asked if I could go. And of course she said no.

  “Have you forgotten you’re grounded, Marsha?” she asked, pointing me toward the laundry room. “Helping Molly O’Gara with homework is one thing, but going out with your friends to a sporting event is completely different. You’ll stay in and iron those curtains you washed yesterday.”

  I didn’t bother to argue.

  I was just finishing the first curtain when the doorbell rang, and a moment later I heard Mrs. O’Gara’s voice. As always, aunt Theresa sounded delighted to see her. They went into the living room and I couldn’t hear them anymore. I kept ironing. Twenty minutes later, when I was nearly done, I heard the front door close and then Aunt Theresa’s footsteps.

  “Because it means so much to Sean and Molly O’Gara, I’ve decided you can go to the game tonight, on the condition you sit with the O’Garas,” she announced.

  “Really?” I stared. This was twice in two days Mrs. O’Gara had convinced her to lighten up! I stopped myself in time from commenting on her complete one-eighty. “Um, thanks, Aunt Theresa.”

  She sniffed. “Just see you keep your distance from that Stuart boy. The O’Garas will pick you up in an hour. Finish what you’re doing and make yourself a sandwich for dinner.”

  She walked away and I ironed faster, thinking hard. Aunt Theresa had only known Mrs. O’Gara for three weeks, but in that time she’d started acting completely out of character—always right after talking to Mrs. O. This could not be coincidence.

  When Molly had talked about the Royal fine having powers of persuasion I’d discounted, since she’d been talking about me, but the O’Garas were Royals, too. If that’s what Mrs. O was doing, I definitely needed to figure out how to use it myself!

  Of course, Molly seemed to think I had used it, when I’d stopped Rigel and Sean from fighting last week. And again today? I certainly hadn’t tried to channel any special “power,” but both times they’d backed off more readily than I’d expected. Hm.

  Whatever Mrs. O had done, it was getting me to the game—which I suddenly realized might give me a chance to see Rigel after all, if his parents let him go, too. On that thought, I turned off the iron and rushed upstairs to change—and to figure out a strategy to talk to Rigel alone, if he was there.

  “Thanks for convincing Aunt Theresa to let me go to the game, Mrs. O’Gara,” I said as I got into the back seat with Molly half an hour later. “When I asked earlier, she said absolutely not.”

  I didn’t dare ask if she’d used any special power on my aunt, but Mr. O turned to wink at me from the driver’s seat and said, “Lili can be very persuasive when she wants to be.” Which definitely lent w
eight to my theory.

  “Your aunt feels strongly about discipline,” Mrs. O’Gara said, “which would be well and good were you a normal teenager, but for our Princess, some occasional leniency is in order. Anyway, Sean and Molly wanted you to come very much, and your aunt allowed that it wasn’t fair to punish them for your lapse in judgment.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, since she apparently agreed I’d had a “lapse in judgment,” but then I realized this might be a chance to find out about that powwow at the Stuarts’ house last night. Except if I let on I knew Mr. O had been there, they’d know Rigel had told me, since none of them had.

  Maybe I’d better not tip them off, since I was hoping to slip away to talk to him during the game. If Rigel wasn’t there tonight, I’d definitely ask about that meeting on the way home. As Sovereign, surely I deserved to know if anything big was going down.

  We made our way to the gym, Molly peeling off to join the cheerleading squad as soon as we got there. Sean was already on the court with the team, warming up. It was the first time I’d seen him in his jersey and I was startled at how muscular he looked. Not skinny at all—that was an illusion because of his height.

  I obediently followed Mr. and Mrs. O’Gara to the bleachers, turning my attention from the guys on the court to the spectators. I was still searching for Rigel when Bri and Deb spotted me and hurried over.

  “You made it!” Bri exclaimed, practically wriggling with excitement. “C’mon, we have great seats, right down front.”

  I glanced at the O’Garas. “Um, I can’t. Unless you have room for all three of us?”

  “We’ll make room,” Deb promised. “You’re Sean’s parents, right? You should sit close to the court anyway.”

  I belatedly introduced everyone as we went back down and squeezed into the prime section of bench Bri and Deb had saved with coats, despite a few grumbles from other students.

  “He looks good, doesn’t he?” Mrs. O’Gara said to her husband, but I barely heard her, because at that moment I spotted Rigel, heading obliquely our way. His dad was with him.

  Knowing Rigel wouldn’t be looking for me, I sat as tall as I could, trying to catch his eye without being so obvious that the O’Garas—or Mr. Stuart—would notice. When that didn’t work, I took a deep breath and tried to project my thoughts—and my brath—toward Rigel, doubtful it could work from this distance.

  To my surprise, he immediately looked up and around, then spotted me. Coincidence? I smiled and gave a little nod. He grinned back and started toward me, then obviously noticed the O’Garas, because he stopped and frowned, his expression questioning. I gave a tiny shake of my head, looking meaningfully at his dad, then the O’Garas.

  With a quick glance at his dad, he nodded almost imperceptibly to me, then veered off to his right, motioning his dad to follow. A moment later some of his football buddies saw him and waved him over. I watched out of the corner of my eye to see where he sat.

  “Oh, look, M, there’s—” Bri suddenly exclaimed, but I quickly stepped on her foot. “Ow! What—?” Then she caught my wide-eyed glare, and the quick shift of my eyes toward the O’Garas and seemed to get it.

  “Is something wrong, dear?” Mrs. O’Gara asked from my other side.

  “Um, no. Just, um, sat on a coat button.” Bri gave me a conspiratorial smile when Mrs. O looked away and I smiled back and mouthed thanks.

  The game started a couple of minutes later, but I was way more focused on Rigel, several rows up and to the left. I didn’t dare crane my neck, but did sneak glances back when everyone else was watching the court. On my third peek I managed to catch his eye for an instant and shoot him a quick smile, which he returned with a tight one of his own.

  Immediately, I put my plan into action. “I’m sorry,” I said to Mrs. O’Gara with a grimace I hoped was convincing. “I really need to go to the bathroom. You and Bri tell me anything I miss, okay?”

  She looked at me with concern. “Are you feeling all right, dear?”

  I shrugged. “Just really need to go—it hit kind of suddenly. I’ll be fine . . . after.”

  The slightest hint of suspicion crossed her face, but then a big cheer went up as Sean sank a three-pointer, which drew her attention away from me. I cheered along with everyone else, then got up and hurried for the exit, praying that Rigel would follow me . . . and that Mrs. O’Gara wouldn’t.

  CHAPTER 27

  streach suas (stretch SOO-ahs): resist oppression; underground resistance

  I didn’t look over my shoulder until I was out of the gym, since doing so might make Mrs. O even more suspicious. At least she wasn’t right behind me. Yet.

  “M!” Rigel called from down the hall and I whirled around, relief flooding through me. “I went out the other way so it wouldn’t look like—” He broke off as I ran to meet him halfway and flung myself into his arms.

  But only for a second.

  “C’mon. Let’s find someplace more private in case anyone comes after us.”

  “Good idea,” he agreed. “Not a hundred per cent sure my dad didn’t see you leave.”

  Hands firmly clasped, we headed down the hall halfway between the two gym exits, then around a corner into another empty hallway, where we ducked into the first open classroom we came to.

  And then, finally, we were kissing. It was absolute heaven.

  “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this,” Rigel breathed when we came up for air a minute or two later. “Can you get away at all over the weekend? I’m dying for some serious alone time.”

  “Oh, so am I, Rigel. So much! But the only place I’m allowed to go these days is the O’Garas.’ Which reminds me—” I pulled just far enough away to talk, keeping my fingers entwined with his. He felt so good. “You never got a chance to tell me why Mr. O’Gara was at your house last night.”

  “It was some last-minute thing. Shim got a message from Mars and called him over so they could all discuss it.”

  “I wonder if that’s what Allister was talking about? He was at the O’Garas,’” I explained with a grimace. “Wonder why he wasn’t at your place, if something big is going on?”

  Rigel smiled, though it was a grim smile. “Yeah, well, my mom kind of, um, threw him out of our house after my party.”

  “Wow, did she? Good for her! He totally had it coming, he was so awful to you. Is that why she did it?”

  “Mostly,” he admitted. “He got even worse after you and the O’Garas left.”

  I huffed out a breath. “Allister is such a jerk! But what was that message from Mars about?”

  He shrugged, but I could sense the darkening of his mood. “Not sure. They were pretty tight-lipped, but I think the rebellion is heating up. I heard your name mentioned a few times before my mom caught me listening and sent me upstairs.”

  “Yeah, Allister let something slip last night about time being short before Mrs. O shut him up. I’m getting the impression they might expect more of me sooner than they said.”

  Rigel’s grip on my hands tightened, pulling me closer. “What do you mean, expect more?”

  I leaned against his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. “I don’t know yet. Maybe you and I should just take off before any—”

  “There you are!” Mrs. O’Gara exclaimed from the doorway of the classroom. “I was afraid of this. I’m disappointed in you, young man,” she said to Rigel. “You know full well that M’s aunt has forbidden the two of you to spend time together. I understood that your parents had done the same.”

  “It’s not his fault,” I flared at her. “We just . . . just happened to run into each other.”

  She just looked at me, and after a moment I guiltily let go of Rigel’s hands. I was sure the only reason she didn’t accuse me of lying was because of who I was.

  “I think we’d better head back to the gym.” she finally said, more gently than I expected. “I imagine you’d rather I not mention this, ah, lapse to your aunt.”

  Rigel sent me
a last glance that warmed almost as much as a touch. Then he gave Mrs. O a respectful nod and left us without a word. Maybe he was afraid of what he might say.

  “It’s not fair,” I mumbled, mostly to myself.

  “I know, dear. And I am sorry. I realize this is hard for you—for both of you. We never wanted that, despite what Allister implied. But it’s for the good of our people, difficult as that may be for you to understand right now. Let’s get back to the game, shall we?”

  I felt another stab of guilt for making her miss several minutes of Sean’s debut. None of this was really her fault. But it wasn’t mine, either!

  We made our way back to our seats and almost immediately Mrs. O started whispering to her husband in that super-quiet Martian whisper. Straining my ears, the few words I managed to pick up worried me: “together” and “could have been seen” from Mrs. O and “delicate situation” from her husband. What situation, I wondered? What had changed?

  Finally, reluctantly, I started to watch the game. Even though I didn’t understand much about basketball, it was obvious as soon as I paid attention that Sean was way better than any other player out there, on either team. He wasn’t the tallest—one of our guys and three of theirs were taller—but he almost never missed when he threw at the basket, which he did a lot.

  Next to me, Bri repeatedly squealed about how amazing he was, reminding me uncomfortably of Rigel’s first football game. I forcefully pushed away my sense of deja vú because Sean was not any kind of replacement for Rigel. No matter what anyone “expected.” So what if his touch affected me a tiny bit like Rigel’s? It wasn’t the same at all.

  I started watching Molly instead, doing cheers on the sidelines with the rest of the squad. As I expected, she was also really good—maybe the best out there, even though it was her first time cheering. Watching her didn’t give me any weird, guilty feelings, either.