Starcrossed

by Brenda Hiatt

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I won’t be appointing anybody Regent, since I won’t be around to play Sovereign for them. So. Back to the plan?”

  To my relief, I felt his mood shift from worry to determination as everything sank in. “You’re right,” he said. “Let’s plug up some more holes.”

  Unfortunately, just then a couple of football players plunked themselves down at our table, and then others drifted over, too, including Bri, Deb and Molly. Only Sean stayed away, sitting with some of the basketball team.

  That forced us to wait till History, when we could at least go back to silent planning without acting noticeably odd. Still, I was confident we had everything major covered now. This was going to work. It had to!

  My heart was starting to pound as I put the last dish in the drainer Friday night. Everything had gone according to plan so far, but the hardest part was still ahead.

  “Okay, I’m done,” I announced to my aunt and uncle, who were watching TV in the living room. “I’d better head over to the O’Garas’—they’ll want to leave soon.”

  I ran up to my room and grabbed my old backpack, still packed from before, but with a few last-minute additions, then headed back downstairs. “See you guys tomorrow morning,” I called out as I opened the front door.

  “Be a good guest,” Aunt Theresa cautioned me. “Offer to wash your sheets in the morning.”

  “I will.” I left before she could notice how nervous I was.

  It had been a gamble asking my aunt if I could go to Sean’s game tonight, then spend the night with Molly afterward, but I’d focused all the persuasion I could onto her. To my amazement and huge relief, she’d agreed almost eagerly.

  She did say something about calling Mrs. O to confirm, but when I told her she and Molly were out shopping but would meet me at their house in time to leave for the game, she accepted it without question, surprising me again. I could definitely get used to this new ability. Except I wouldn’t be around to use it on her again.

  I forced myself to a normal—okay, slightly quick—walking pace until I was out of sight of the front windows, then ducked across the street and jogged between two houses to make my way to Diamond. I absolutely didn’t want the O’Garas seeing me when they left for the game, which would be any minute now. I’d told Molly my aunt made me choose between the game tonight and the “reception” at their house tomorrow, so I’d elected to stay home.

  Keeping an eye out for anyone who might notice me and remember later, after I was reported missing, I skirted the garbage cans behind the Thurmonds’ house and slipped through the gap in the fence into the service alley behind Dream Cream.

  Rigel was already there with his own backpack. “Everything go okay?” he asked after a quick hug and kiss.

  “Way easier than I expected,” I admitted, clinging to his hand to absorb strength and confidence, which I was going to need tonight. “I didn’t even have to go to Plan B.” Which was to pretend to have a relapse from last week, go to bed early, then sneak out my window—which wouldn’t have given us nearly as big a head start.

  “Great! My folks think I’m at the game, too, with the football team, then going to a party after. Told my dad Matt Mullins would give me a ride home.”

  “So your dad dropped you in town?”

  He nodded. “Some of the guys were meeting here at Dream Cream before the game and I joined them for the last few minutes. Pulled a switch as they were leaving, so Matt thinks Jeff is giving me a ride to the game and Jeff thinks I’m with Matt. They’ll notice I’m not there, but I don’t think they’ll do anything about it.”

  “So that gives me until morning and you until what? Midnight? When are you supposed to be home?”

  “Midnight, but I think I can push it till tomorrow, too. My parents were so relieved I want to socialize with the team again, they’re going easy on me. They know I’ve been upset about all this. They are, too, you know.”

  I tightened my clasp on his hand and he returned it. “I know. But they can’t—or won’t—do anything about it. Which leaves it up to us.”

  “Yeah.” For a second I got that worried, conflicted feeling from him again. “So, what’s the least visible way to the car lot?”

  Before answering, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him again, hard. “For luck,” I said in answer to his surprised—but pleased—response.

  “Yeah, we’re going to need it. For luck.” He kissed me back, a real kiss that made me tingle all the way to my toes.

  When he finally released me, he grinned at my undoubtedly dazed expression. That was some kiss! “Okay,” I said breathlessly. “Car lot.”

  I led the way behind the businesses along Diamond, ducking when the back door of the Lighthouse Cafe opened and someone came out to empty the trash. They didn’t see us.

  Past the business district, the alleyway ran out and we had to use the street. It had been full dark for over an hour by now and it was also freezing, so nobody else was out walking. I hoped the predicted overnight snow showers would hold off, since that was the last thing we needed.

  We didn’t see anyone as we zigged up Emerald and then down Sapphire, heading toward the outskirts of downtown. A few cars passed, but we stayed far enough from the shoulder that the headlights didn’t hit us. It took about forty minutes on foot, but we finally reached the closed car lot where Uncle Louie worked.

  “You’re sure they don’t have a watchman, or dogs or anything?” Rigel whispered, the first words either of us had spoken aloud since we started walking, though we’d been sending loving—and calming—thoughts to each other.

  I shook my head. “A couple of security cameras, but I know where they are. Come on.”

  The plan was to “borrow” a car from the lot—I knew the access code to the building, and where they kept all the car keys—and drive west. Or Rigel would. He’d taken some Driver’s Ed and at least had his learner’s permit. Of course, if we got stopped, we were toast.

  We won’t get stopped, Rigel thought to me, projecting more confidence than I felt at the moment.

  “How do you do that?” I whispered. “I never hear your thoughts unless you’re sending them to me, but you snag mine right out of my head!”

  He shrugged, grinning a little. “Maybe I pay closer attention.”

  I hmphed—an unwelcome reminder of Aunt Theresa, who I’d probably never see again—then led him along the edge of the lot, where we weren’t within range of the security camera out front. Once we passed the corner of the building, I angled back in, close along that side, and around to the back door. The back camera was focused on the cars, not the door, so if we stayed close to the building, we should be okay.

  I listened carefully, in case anyone was working late in the service department, but everything was quiet. Nobody wanted to hang around on a Friday night. Satisfied, I punched in the easy four-digit code to unlock the back door. I was glad they’d installed this keypad a few years back. It meant Uncle Louie couldn’t possibly be linked to what we were about to do. The last thing I wanted was for him to lose his job.

  Everything was dark and quiet inside the dealership but I didn’t dare risk attention by turning on any lights. I moved by memory and feel to the small office where the security equipment was, along with all the keys to the cars on the lot. First task was to turn off the recorder for the cameras.

  “Just unplug it,” Rigel suggested.

  I reached to do just that, then paused. “This thing is a little glitchy anyway—Uncle Louie complains about it. How about we short it out, instead? That’ll look more like an accident.”

  He nodded and I could tell he was impressed, which pleased me a ridiculous amount. We held hands, then Rigel touched the recorder. A spark flashed for an instant and it hummed to a stop.

  “That should do it,” he whispered.

  “Yup! Let’s pick out a car.” I was as excited as if we were actually going to buy one instead of stealing a getaway vehicle. Or maybe that’s why I was so excited.


  Back outside, we headed toward the far back lot, where I told Rigel they kept the cars that needed work before sale, and all the foreign imports they couldn’t sell.

  “Check it out! A ’75 Mustang,” Rigel breathed in my ear.

  I shook my head. “Too flashy. Plus it’s a stick. Can you drive stick yet?”

  “Um, no.”

  Chuckling—only half to myself—I kept walking. “Here. This old gray Corolla shouldn’t attract much attention. And it already has a dealer plate.”

  “Let’s swap the plate with another car anyway,” Rigel suggested, sounding amazingly calm about all this. I tried to feel the same, for his sake as well as mine.

  “Good idea. Then even if they do notice it missing, they’ll give the police the wrong plate number.”

  He made the swap and we went back to the office, where I pulled out the tiny LED flashlight I’d stuck in my pocket and examined the keys. It only took me a couple of minutes to find the right one, though it felt like ages.

  Making sure the door locked behind us, we went back to the Corolla, threw our backpacks into the back seat and got in.

  “You do know how to drive this, right?” I fought to control a wash of panic as the enormity of what we were doing hit me. A few days ago, I’d surprised Rigel by being rude to a teacher. Now we were stealing a car!

  “Hey, I’ve had two whole weeks of Driver’s Ed and I’m a fast learner. It’ll be fine, M,” he assured me, but I could feel his tension. He wasn’t nearly as calm as he was pretending to be, either.

  I stayed quiet as he started the car, backed it out of its space and maneuvered it around the building and out to the road. He really did seem to know what he was doing, and it was my turn to be impressed.

  “One last stop, then we’re out of here,” Rigel said. Maybe I imagined that hint of a quaver in his voice.

  He drove us back into town and around the side of the now-closed post office, stopping by the Express Mail drop box. Glancing around to be sure no one was within sight, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

  “Hey, Dad, it’s halftime. We’re winning—O’Gara’s dominating again, of course. Huh? Oh yeah, I’m outside—it was too noisy in the gym to call. Anyway, Matt wants to know if I can stay over, some of the guys are gonna crash in his rec room tonight. That way he won’t have to drive me till morning and you and Mom won’t have to wait up. No, of course I won’t be drinking, Dad, come on! Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

  He hung up, then pulled a prepaid Express envelope out of his backpack. It was addressed to Shim, in Washington, DC. He sealed his phone inside and stuck it into the drop box.

  “There.” He sounded the tiniest bit breathless but not nearly as nervous as I felt. “It’s a six a.m. pickup, so by the time they think to track my cell it should look like we’re halfway to Grandfather’s place.”

  We’d planned this part out earlier. Since Shim was the only member of the Council who’d voted against separating us, it made sense we might run to him. If that diversion worked, it should buy us a few extra hours or even a full day while they followed that lead.

  As we’d agreed, Rigel headed east, then south once we hit the state highway, so we could pick up the interstate to Indy. From there, we’d go west.

  “Do you think we should have gone to Shim after all, and tried to misdirect them in a different direction?” I asked worriedly, once we were past the town limits. It was one of the options we’d discussed.

  He shook his head. “No matter how sympathetic he might be, he’d have to turn us over to the Council. If he didn’t, I don’t know what they’d do to him, but it would probably be bad. Then he wouldn’t be able to help us at all. It’s better if he doesn’t know anything about this.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Of course.” The idea of having no adult support was unnerving, but I’d better get used to it. This was going to be my life—our lives—for a long time now. Maybe forever.

  But as long as we were together, we’d be okay.

  I hoped.

  CHAPTER 39

  Rigel (RY-jel): an important navigational star

  Every extra mile between us and Jewel, the safer we are—or so I keep telling myself as I drive West on I-70 out of Indianapolis. But I can’t help thinking of all the things that can go wrong. Neither can M.

  “What if one of the guys calls your house, asking why you’re not at the game?” she says, forgetting she already asked me that.

  “They’d call my cell, not the house,” I reassure her, though I don’t know that, since my cell will go straight to voice mail.

  She nods, but she’s still tense. We both are. Because it’s not impossible they already know we’re gone. M’s aunt might have called or dropped by the O’Garas’ house, or they could’ve called her. And if they do know . . .

  For about the twentieth time, I stiffen as a car comes up to pass us, glancing out of the corner of my eye to make sure they’re not staring, trying to identify us. I feel M looking at me, feel her worry, and force myself to relax again, projecting all the calm and confidence I can.

  “Even if they figure it out tonight—which they won’t—they can’t know what we’re driving, or even that we’re driving. Or which way we’ve gone,” I remind her. “We made it out of town. That was the hard part.”

  I wish I really believed that.

  I wake up, my neck stiff from sleeping half sitting up, and glance at the old wristwatch I’m wearing. Crap! Two hours later than I thought. But when I glance down at M, still fast asleep, snuggled into the crook of my arm, I smile. How can one person be so adorable?

  Before waking her, I give myself a minute to just love her. And then another couple of minutes to really feel all the emotions I’ve been trying to hide from her the past few hours: anger at everyone trying to run our lives, worry about our future, her future, and just plain terror we’ll get caught and separated. Because I don’t see how that won’t happen eventually. And it’ll only be “eventually” instead of “immediately” if we’re really, really lucky.

  I watch her beautiful, peaceful face while I get my feelings back under control, taking deep breaths and focusing again on just how much I love M and how perfect we are together. Too perfect to even consider not staying together forever. One more breath.

  “Hey,” I whisper, jostling her slightly. “We need to get moving again, and I kinda need both arms to drive.”

  She stirs, then opens those amazing green eyes and gazes up at me through her long lashes, still bleary but with a smile on her lips. “Mmmm. Good morning. I love you.”

  My heart squeezes painfully, but I grin down at her. “I love you, too, M. But it wasn’t supposed to be morning yet, remember? We slept for three hours.”

  Now she sits up and I can feel alarm from her—the same alarm I’m trying to suppress. “Three hours? I thought your watch was supposed to go off after one hour!”

  “Yeah. Either it didn’t or we both slept through it.”

  We’d driven all night, getting gas in St. Louis, along with a couple of awful hot dogs from the gas station, before continuing west until about five a.m. By then it was starting to snow, plus I was in danger of nodding off. So I exited near the western border of Missouri, found a church parking lot in the middle of nowhere, set my watch alarm and fell asleep. At least the snow has stopped. For now.

  I realize I’m starving, plus I have to pee. I can tell M feels the same.

  “Food and bathroom?” I suggest.

  “Sounds great,” she agrees. “Maybe not in that order.”

  I can’t help laughing. It feels so great to be together, just the two of us, at least pretending it’s for good. I try to keep my doubts buried deep, so she won’t pick up on them.

  “I think we passed a burger place when we first got off the highway,” I say, to keep her mind on food. “Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect! Let’s go.” She scoots away from me and fastens her seat belt, making me miss the contact so much I reach over and
squeeze her hand before starting the car.

  There are only a few cars in the parking lot of the restaurant. The drive-thru would be safest but we both need the bathroom, so I park.

  “Do you really think they’re after us yet?” M must have picked up on my thought about the drive-thru. I need to be more careful.

  “Probably not.” I unbuckle my seat belt and open my door, trying to sound confident. “But they will be soon. When does your aunt expect you home?”

  We both get out before M answers. “I didn’t give her a time, but I wouldn’t put it past her to call if I’m not back by eleven, since I’m supposed to have taekwondo at noon.”

  “So we’re safe for another two or three hours . . . but then all hell will break loose. Hope they at least keep it quiet.”

  “Yeah.” I focus and can tell she’s thinking about everything that could go wrong—for us and for all the Echtrans—if the police get involved. The stuff we managed to ignore when we were so desperate to get away seems big and unavoidable now that we are away.

  You’re just gloomy because you’re hungry, she thinks at me as we enter the restaurant. Then, out loud, “You want to order while I run to the bathroom? Or vice versa?”

  “You go first. I’ll order.” Seems like the least I can do since I’m screwing up her whole future.

  The stern look she gives me says she caught that—or at least the emotion that went with it. She’s definitely getting better at picking up my random thoughts. Oops.

  I go to the counter while M heads to the ladies’ room. “Breakfast?” the girl behind the counter asks. She looks bored, which is good—means she’s less likely to remember us.

  “Yeah. Two egg sandwiches, biscuits, a Coke and a hot tea. To go.”

  She looks closer at me and smiles a little, but I avoid her eye and make like I’m watching for M to come out of the restroom. After a second, she punches in our order and gives me the total, looking bored again.

  I hand her a twenty, doing the math in my head while she makes change, trying to figure how far the three hundred and sixty dollars I was able to scrape together will take us, if we’re careful. Not far. I’ve already spent fifty on gas and food. Money’s going to be an issue.