by Sherry Soule
That has to be the sweetest thing any boy has ever said to me. Like ever. A confusing array of emotions hit hard. I’ll need at least a month to process them all. But I do know my feelings for Hayden have radically surged from lustful sensations to a full-on shameless crush. And my heart’s plummeting into hazardous places it shouldn’t go.
“Wait here,” he says.
Hayden goes to his car, takes out an old army jacket, and drapes it over my shoulders. The fabric carries the earthy, seductive scent of his cologne. Major swoon.
He stands still and gazes deeply into my eyes again. A confused look mars his striking features, as if he is mentally struggling to find the right thing to say. Hayden picks up a piece of loose hair framing my face, inspecting the purple strands, and I freeze. Muscles in my stomach tighten. He twists the hair around his finger, and I’m lightheaded, my body tense.
He lets the strands fall, and I’m suddenly filled with all this awkward energy.
Did I remember to put on deodorant? Is my hair staying put in the ponytail? I suddenly have to concentrate on the simplest of tasks. Like breathing. Thinking. Talking.
“Wanna hear a dumb joke?” I ask to ease my insecurities and stop wondering when he’s going to kiss me.
One side of his mouth tips up higher. “Shoot.”
“Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because if they flew over the Bay, they’d be bagels.”
He cracks a small smile. “That was bad.”
“I warned you.”
“Your sense of humor is an acquired taste, Sloane.”
“At least I have one.”
“Point taken.” He gazes out at the ocean, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“You seem fine after your accident. More than fine. Are you related to Superman?” I joke, but my voice cracks. “Because if you’ve got a red and blue costume with tights tucked away somewhere, I’d love to see it.”
He doesn’t turn his head. “You could say we have a lot in common.” He faintly smiles. “Minus the get-up.”
“Like?” I prod.
“Besides our dashing good-looks and irresistible charisma?”
“Yeah, besides all that.” I jab him in the side with my elbow.
“Ouch. Still sore.” He cradles his ribs with one arm and grimaces. “Let’s walk along the shore. I’m stiff and need to move.”
Hayden takes my hand and helps me step over the curb, our shoes instantly sinking into the pebbled sand. He’s still slightly limping and holding his side, the gash on his forehead nothing more than a bloody scab.
“I’m really glad you’re okay,” I say. “And Hayden, I promise not to tell anyone about the accident. You saved my life—and I at least owe you that.”
He peeks at my profile. “Will you drop the article Zach and me, too?”
“Yes, but Devin will need some convincing. He still wants to run the legendary hacker story.”
Hayden stops walking and grasps my chin, pulling at it so my mouth opens and releases a strand of hair that I’m unaware of chewing on. His touch is electric, and everything else in my world melts away, until nothing else matters but him. My body temperature rises at least twenty degrees above normal. But I tell myself to chill. Be smart. Cautious with my heart. Because other than the obvious attraction, we barely know each other.
I shake my head clear of his grip and step over a glob of seaweed. “Why did you hack into the school computer, anyway?”
“I did it on a dare.” He shrugs and keeps pace with me. “My brother said I couldn’t do it, so I wanted to prove him wrong. Computers and technology are kind of my thing.”
I glance at him. “Can you answer one question for me?”
“Depends on what it is, Sloane.”
“You look good for someone who recently got hit by a car. It makes no sense. How?”
He bites his lip and watches two kids building a sand castle.
“Just tell me, Hayden. Please.”
He slowly turns toward me. “I want to but...I don’t want you to freak out.”
“Really? Like I’m not freaked out now? Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”
“Try me.”
“I think the less you know the better.” He shakes his head. Now his expression is masked by some new determination, a steely resolve.
“How about I guess?” I say. “You can tell me if I’m hot or cold.”
He wraps his arms around his ribcage. “Okay.”
“Are you sure you’re all right? You look like you’re in pain.”
He waves me off with one hand. “I’m fine. Just a little achy is all. What’s your first guess?”
“Are you a ninja?”
A strange, tight smile crosses his face. “Extremely cold.”
I blow out a breath and ask, “Are you human?”
“Kinda cold.”
He’s not human. He’s not human?
“What are you saying? Can you give me something more? A hint?”
“I’m partially human.” He winks at me. “Where it counts.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you have superhuman abilities?”
His eye is twitching, and he rubs at the tic. “Warm...and I guess, you could call them that. More like a genetic abnormality.”
Interesting. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“And how did you get these abilities? Were you born with them?”
“The second question is warmer.”
“Oh. So, um, can I share my theories?”
His nods. “This ought to be good.”
“Hmm, well, radioactive spiders is getting cliché. So, genetic mutation? Exposure to toxic waste? Radiation from cell phone towers—”
“Nothing along those lines. Sorry, but you’re icy cold again.”
“Are you a supernatural creature? Werewolf? Vampire? Shapeshifter? Or warlock?”
“None of the above. Cold as a blizzard.”
My shoulders slump. “Oh.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“A little.” I frown and scratch my head. “So, you have a lot in common with Superman...”
His foot taps nervously. “Getting hotter.” He stares, as if waiting for me to catch on.
“You’re...are you an alien?”
He faintly nods.
Hello, Roswell!
“Wait.” I swallow hard. “Seriously?”
Hayden shuffles his feet, kicking an empty beer bottle out of our path. “Yeah. Sort of.”
He’s gone completely nutso. He’s got to be making this up. And do I honestly believe him or does the boy need a psych evaluation?
Hayden tucks loose hair behind my ear. My body trembles at his gentle touch, and I lean slightly into his fingers. “It’s true.” His voice is quiet, serious.
“Shut the front door!” I stifle a grin, except he isn’t smiling. Wait…is he serious? “Aliens don’t really exist. That’s just a myth, like vampires or werewolves.”
He shifts restlessly, his jaw clenched. “Truth is...there’s life on other planets, and my forefathers are extraterrestrials,” he says, his tone deceptively soft.
Jumpin’ zombies on a pogo-stick!
Pressing my palms to my forehead, I squeeze my eyes shut and mutter, “Wow. I mean, wow.”
It takes me a moment to grasp what he means. And I don’t know what does it—the flat, emotionless way he says it, or the shock of the truth, but dizziness hits hard. My head whirls and my heartbeat thuds in my ears.
“Holy shit. So, you’re...not human,” I say slowly.
This is way too hard to process. My brain is tied up in knots. The world slants on its axis, and my legs weaken. I plop down on a piece of driftwood and Hayden takes a seat beside me. I bend over, trying to catch my breath.
“I am still human. Just a more advanced species,” he says calmly.
“Very funny, Hayden. Stop messing with me.�
�
“Have you already forgotten my quick healing and fork-bending? Or the other things you’ve witnessed?” He tilts his head. “Where’s that Hello Kitty notebook of yours?”
Busted again. Guess this isn’t a good time to get it out and check my notes. I stare at him. He looks so serious. No humor in his face. No smile quirking those kissable lips. No twinkle in his eyes.
Holy shit.
“I-I don’t know what to even say,” I stammer.
“Just breathe, Sloane.” He rubs my back. After a few minutes, he asks almost hesitantly, “Are you afraid of me now? Or just disgusted by what I am?”
I straighten and glance at him. But I can’t speak. My mouth goes dry. My hand flutters to my throat.
His blistering stare burns into mine. “The truth, Sloane. Please.”
Aliens are real.
Hayden is sort of one.
He might be an extraterrestrial, but he’s still freaking hot. Sure, he has his faults, and he can even be the biggest one-worded jerk on the planet sometimes, but I’ve also witnessed the good in him. Protecting that puppy? So epic. Saving my life? Beyond awesome. Loyalty to his family? Totally admirable. Defender against bullies? Great quality.
And he’s kind of sweet when he wants to be. So basically, I have one of two choices here: I can freak out or be awestruck by what I’ve just discovered. I choose a combination of both, but mostly amazement.
Even though I feel lightheaded, after several deep breaths I’m able to get my emotions back under control. But later I’ll probably break out in hives.
“No, I’m not afraid or disgusted,” I say honestly. “Why would I be?”
“You must have a lot of questions.” Even sitting down, Hayden is a good head taller. He leans in, his face inches from mine. Kissing distance. My heart rate speeds up, but he just says, “We might as well get this out of the way.”
A prickly sensation raises the hair on my neck and I jerk around. My eyes scan the beach. No one else nearby. Nobody spying on me, but the feeling persists.
My hand shakes a little as I push hair off my forehead. “How did you get here?” I ask in a wobbly voice, but the next few questions tumble out of my mouth like verbal vomit. “Do you, like, have a spaceship hidden somewhere? What about your brother? And Uncle? Can you fly?”
“Whoa, one at a time.” He blinks a couple of times while he considers his answer. “No, I’ve never seen a flying saucer. My brother and uncle are like me. And nobody in my family can fly.”
Hearing him reveal his family’s deep dark secret so bluntly and honestly—for a change—doesn’t make it easier to accept, and only doubles my curiosity.
“Tell me more. You can trust me. Honest. I’d never tell anyone.” I cross my heart and hold up my little finger like a hook. “I pinkie swear.”
He hooks his pinkie with mine and shakes my finger. “You know what’s weird? I actually do trust you, Sloane. I don’t know why, but I do. And after last night, I suppose I owe you an explanation.”
My hands are still shaking. “Yeah, you do.” I lace my fingers to keep from chewing on my hair.
His eyes search mine. “You really want to know?”
“Yes. Tell me everything.”
TWELVE
Hayden and I settle into an awkward silence and watch the windsurfers. My pulse is all over the place. I’m about to get a crash course on alien history and I’m dying of curiosity. Although, I’m equally shocked and absolutely stupefied, too.
Who knew the X-Files were real?
The salty air tickles our skin, and I huddle deeper into the warmth of his jacket. Hayden taps his foot on the gritty sand as if he’s deciding how much he’s going to tell me about his family. Haven Beach isn’t swarming with people, which makes it easier to talk about all this extraterrestrial stuff without worrying about eavesdroppers.
“I mean it. I want to know the whole enchilada,” I say and shift my weight on the piece of driftwood that we’re sitting on. “Don’t leave anything out.”
Hayden tilts his head, his unique gaze taking up my whole universe. “Off the record?”
“Completely,” I say with a brisk nod.
While I anxiously wait for him to speak, I watch a flock of seagulls pecking at a dead fish washed up on the beach. All I want to do is push Hayden for answers, but at the same time, I don’t want him feeling vulnerable and exposed. I want him to know he matters, not who his ancestors are, and that I’m not like those callous birds reducing him to nothing. Then again...that’s how all this started.
“Well, as a horror junkie, you’re going to love my family’s dark history.” He pulls his shoulders back to create a small space between us. “Forget flying saucers, alien abductions, and little green men with death rays. It’s not that kind of story...”
I sit forward, our thighs touching. “It can’t be that bad. Did you get kicked off your home planet or something?”
His lips twitch. “No, Sloane. My great grandfather was human. He was a sergeant in the military and he signed up for a special-ops program called The Genetic Trials masterminded by a top-secret branch of the government referred to as Sector Thirteen. These so-called military scientists did all kinds of unusual human enhancing experiments on his regiment—about thirty men—to create a more durable and powerful soldier,” he says in a low, grim voice.
“Oh, my god.” I swallow a few times before I can speak again. “What did they do to them?”
Hayden reaches over and takes my hand. The touch of his fingers sends delicious tingles throughout my body.
“They spliced the men’s DNA with an ancient alien race called Zeta Reticuli or Zetas for short,” he says. “They did a form of crossbreeding to produce a hybrid species.”
The beach tilts a little, the sand suddenly shifting beneath my feet. It’s like there’s a loop in my head playing the words he’s an alien- hybrid, he’s a hybrid, he’s a hybrid over and over. And yes, I’m totally creeped out, but this isn’t about me. It’s about the boy I care about trusting me with a huge secret. About aliens.
Deep breath, Sloane. You can handle this. You have to.
“You’re referring to your superhuman abilities, right?”
He massages his sore ribs and nods. “After my great grandfather was discharged, he went home, but felt uneasy about the experiments, so he started doing research on the program. It took him years, but finally through numerous interviews with other people present at the time and his contacts in the military, he discovered that the Zetas landed on Earth over a hundred years ago—”
“Are you talking Area 51?” I interrupt.
“No.” He shakes his head. “But they might’ve used that same government base to perform the experiments.” He grabs a fist full of sand and lets the grains slip through his fist like an hourglass. His foot taps a nervous staccato beat. “And—”
“That’s wicked crazy.”
“Please let me finish or I never will. You are the first outsider that I’ve ever told. Sector Thirteen forbids us from telling anyone.”
“Why? What is the government afraid will happen?”
He shrugs. “I’m not sure. Maybe they’re worried about mass hysteria. Or having to answer a lot of questions they don’t want to acknowledge to the public. It doesn’t matter. And I’d rather not be considered a freak because my ancestors are creatures from outer space, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it.” I draw a circle in the sand with the toe of my boot. “Do you want to meet them? Your extraterrestrial relatives?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someday.”
“Do you know how many Zetas landed here?”
“Only about twenty or so, and my parents said they were immediately stashed away in some secret military headquarters. Evidently, our government and the Zetas made an alliance. The Zetas agreed to share their advanced technology with them, and in return, Sector Thirteen allowed the aliens to perform the experiments on the soldiers. Turns out, the Zetas were the ones who actually did the DNA s
plicing on about five or six hundred soldiers during that time.”
“This is insane!” My hands curl into fists. “What were the Zetas trying to do?”
“I think the Zetas just wanted to create a hybrid race of both human and Zeta origin, so they took their own DNA and melded it with human DNA to create a new species. Once they were successful, the Zetas flew back to their home planet.”
My brain switches into hyperdrive. My stomach goes all jumpy and queasy. His strange family history is like a twisted episode of Fringe. If only I could act cool, calm, and collected, as though nothing’s changed, but that became impossible the moment he told me the truth about his origins.
Taking a deep breath, I stare at him. I mean, really look at him. At his oh-so-disturbingly-model-quality looks. Weirdly, the strong attraction is still there. Even after all the bizarre stuff he just told me.
My face scrunches in confusion. “Wait…the Zetas just left Earth? Didn’t even bother to stick around?”
“Nope.” Hayden presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Whatever. I suppose their main goal was to save their species by DNA engineering with human DNA. But it’s not as bad as it sounds, honest. All hybrids look like ordinary people and live ordinary lives. We just have extraordinary skills.” Turning to face me, Hayden starts talking animatedly as though he needs to get all this stuff off his chest in a hurry. “My parents did some research too and they thought part of the reason the Zetas wanted to do the experiments on the soldiers was because after generations of cloning their own race and using the same genetic material, it caused the Zetas evolutionary growth to become inbred and stagnant. And it turns out their race is actually dying. So with the US government’s consent, the Zetas tried and succeeded in creating a much more evolved species of human, with all of the Zetas’s superior intelligence, advanced capabilities, and longevity.”
I tear my gaze from his face, focusing on a seagull hopping across the sand. “Sooo...you’re part human and part Zeta. That’s actually kinda cool.”
“You think so?”
His shoulders relax when he realizes I’m not running away screaming. But I simply can’t move, as if I’m rooted to this spot. Curiosity has gotten the better of me. And look what that did to the cat.
