American Girl On Saturn

by Nikki Godwin

  Milo holds his arm out. “After you, Ms. Branson.”

  The door slams behind him. The windows are too dark for anyone to see inside, but those crazy Saturnites at the gate and lining the street know. I hope Dad locked his windows. Emery will have them down in two seconds just to scream that Benji is hers.

  We park at the end of the driveway. Police escorts and secret service vehicles ease along our street. Uniformed officers maintain order with the fans. Dad’s car pulls out in between a police car and a black SUV. A few more vehicles pass before my mom and sister’s vehicle moves onto the street. Two SUVs separate us before we join the parade of insanity. More fall in behind us.

  “Who are all these people?” I finally ask, peering as best I can through the window.

  “Decoy vehicles,” Noah says. “You’ll get used to it.”

  I hear Dad’s voice in my head. It comes with the territory.

  We circle around the airport a few times before the SUV actually stops. I don’t bother asking why. Maybe it’s some security measure to throw off the crazies. It’s like Dad said last night while he flipped hamburgers on the grill. All of this happened just because some idiot guy was pissed that his girlfriend chose to go to the SAS concert instead of going out with him on their one-year anniversary. I don’t know why he thought shooting at the guys would make it better. Now he’ll face attempted murder charges and probably reckless endangerment or whatever else they can tack on.

  But that crazy, jealous boyfriend gave us lockdown. I don’t know if I should hate him or mentally thank him for what he’s done.

  Agents and SAS staff members unload the bags and haul them off. The guys probably have a crew that simply handles baggage claims. We don’t get out of the SUV until Dad opens the door and motions for us.

  Tate rushes toward Benji waving an Xbox game in his hand.

  “Dude, look what G-man got me!” he shouts. “I didn’t even ask for it. I don’t even know how he knew that I wanted this one.”

  Benji laughs. “That’s the one you were going to buy after our NYC show, but you never made it to a store.”

  Aralie beams with pride. I wonder if she had something to do with that. Emery rushes over to us with her arms wide open. Benji grabs her and spins her in circles. He promises to get her concert tickets. She says she’ll make a poster so he’ll notice her.

  I make the rounds with Mom and Aralie, hugging the guys and saying our goodbyes-for-now. Mom engages herself in a conversation with Benji and Emery. Aralie grabs Jules and her “Tater Tot” to the side, leaving me with my half of Saturn.

  Noah pulls me into a hug. I don’t know what to say to him. I just squeeze him until I feel like the ink from his tattoos may leak into my skin if I hug him any tighter.

  “Don’t forget me,” he says. “I know you’ll be all wrapped up in Planet Milo, and he’s hot and stuff, but I’m still your new best friend.”

  Forget Noah Winters? I pushed him into our pool. Then I pulled him into our pool. I made him speak before he had his strawberry milk, and I shared my dark Paige secret with him. He was the first person to text my new number. He was also the one to announce that I was Milo’s girlfriend to the world via his “I’m gonna miss Milo’s girlfriend after lockdown. #MyNewBFF” tweet. Thousands of people followed me after seeing my Twitter handle at the end of it.

  “You’re unforgettable in the best ways,” I say.

  He smiles. “I’ll see you in like…a week. And if Milo gets all weird, I’ll take care of it.”

  He rubs his fist into the palm of his other hand before hugging me one last time, leaving me alone with the one and only Mr. Grayson.

  Milo pulls me into a hug immediately. I try to take in every inch of his existence because I know things will never be the same again. We’ll never be us in the sense that we were during lockdown. I inhale his body wash. I run my hands over his T-shirt and the way it hugs his body so perfectly. I trace my fingers over the MDG inked into his arm under his Saturn tattoo.

  His caramel-colored eyes stare back at me when I look up at his face. His mouth scrunches up to one side. What is he thinking? Is he trying to find the words like I am?

  “I’ll call you whenever we get where we’re going,” he says.

  How typical. I’ll call you. Be careful. Have a safe flight. I’ll see you later. These are the kinds of things I’d say to Benji, not Milo.

  “I’m gonna miss you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to my ear. “I’m with you every morning when the butterflies bleed and every night when the fireflies flicker, okay? I’m just a phone call or text away. Always.”

  “I feel like there’s a million things I need to say or should say,” I tell him. “But I can’t even find the words.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, nodding. “You don’t have to say anything. I already know.”

  His hands intertwine with strands of my hair as he leans in and kisses me. I never want the taste of his kiss to leave my mouth.

  He pulls away and brushes my hair back over my shoulders. He stares at me for a second, kind of like Mom does when she talks about her baby bird. But I feel like I’m the one who is setting him free. The mad scientists can’t hold him down any longer. I have to lift the glass and let him fly.

  “I’ve gotta go,” he says, looking back over his shoulder. He kisses my forehead. “See you soon, firefly.”

  Noah wraps an arm around Milo’s shoulders as soon as my boy joins his Saturn brothers. He’s in good hands, even though I hate to let him go.

  Emery leans against my leg. She’s too big to be carried, but I pick her up anyway. She presses her golden blonde hair into my brunette locks. She sniffles, but no tears fall. She’s determined to be strong too. She waves goodbye as they disappear through the empty airport.

  My family walks in silence to Dad’s car. Aralie is stoic, reflecting zero emotion in her face. If I couldn’t see her breathing, I’d think she was a corpse. Emery’s lips quiver, and she doesn’t speak. She and I both know too well that if she tries to talk, all of her emotions will pour out. I can’t believe she’s being so strong. She’s a six-year-old who just said goodbye to her beloved Benji Bikini. Tears, Emery. Shed them already so I can.

  We crawl into the backseat in a zombie-like trance. Aralie plays with her cell phone to avoid conversation. Emery hangs her head, and I stare at the back of Dad’s seat so I can’t look at the sky and think of butterflies. The butterflies in my stomach aren’t even moving. I wonder if they died when Milo left. I hope not. They give me a sense of security these days, as much as I wish they’d behave themselves better at times.

  Aralie hands her phone over to me as we pull out of the airport’s parking lot. Her Twitter feed is on the screen. Milo just updated fifty-three seconds ago.

  I miss my girl already. See you soon, firefly.

  I know better than to click on the picture he tweeted with it, but I do anyway. It’s us on the back patio this morning. Emery took the picture. Benji’s suncatcher dangles behind us. I’m smiling much too ecstatically while Milo kisses my cheek. It’s so goofy-happy.

  I hand Aralie’s phone back to her before I can take it all in and fall victim to a Saturn-sized meltdown. And that’s when the Branson family breakdown happens.

  Mom begins to sob.

  Chapter Thirty

  #IWantToBeABransonSister.

  This may be my favorite hashtag of all time. It’s at least been my favorite since we set the boys back into the universe eight days ago. Our house has been eerily quiet. Mom tears up over breakfast quite often. Crazy girls still sit outside of the gates at our house, and people take pictures of us at the grocery store. It’s weird.

  Three days after lockdown, Milo begged the SAS fans to leave Aralie and me alone. The expected death threats rolled in. Some Saturnites came to our defense. Others stated the fact that Dad is a secret service agent and people needed to watch what they said. And a few crazies still told us to die
. We didn’t tell Emery about those. Her brain can’t handle much more excitement. She actually likes posing for the random cameras, so we let her enjoy the fame.

  I think the greatest thing that’s happened since lockdown ended was when Darby dedicated an entire YouTube segment to the Branson sisters. All of the SAS guys follow her on Twitter now, thanks to my special request, and Darby’s Daily Dose of Drama has become an advocate to help stop the Saturnite insanity aimed at the Branson family. I knew I liked Darby for a reason.

  Okay, so Darby’s the second best thing. The best is lying in this super-fancy hotel bed in New York City. The Spaceships Around Saturn ‘welcome back’ show is tonight. Emery made a poster that says, “I AM a Branson sister!” Aralie made one too, but I’m hoping she won’t actually take it. We’ll have enough attention without her “Milo wasn’t dead! He was with my sister!” poster.

  Maybe she’ll shop all day and won’t grab it in the rush of things tonight. This will be our first public appearances with the guys since lockdown ended and the world knew we were all official. Aralie and I watched their morning show interview last Thursday, just as Milo predicted they’d have.

  He played coy when asked about lockdown romance. He never denies me, but his face turns a few shades of Mars, and it makes my heart flutter. And then it makes me crazy-sad because my butterflies really did die with his exit. Even with the screaming fans, weirdoes with cameras, and constant internet drama, I haven’t felt so much as a nervous butterfly blink. I miss them almost as much as I miss Milo.

  My cell phone buzzes in my hand and interrupts my Twitter feed. A photo of Milo and me pops up on the screen, and Spaceships Around Saturn sing through the speaker.

  “Hey you,” I say instantly.

  He laughs. “What’s up, firefly?”

  I tell him that I’m alone in my hotel room. Aralie insisted that she needed to look hot tonight, since this was her first public outing as Jules Rossi’s girlfriend, so Mom and Dad took her to see NYC. Emery demanded new clothes too. I’m sure she’s posing for paparazzi somewhere in this giant city. Dad has enough security at the hotel to keep me safe from a nuclear bomb. Our entire floor is blocked off.

  “Well, I’m sending something up to your room,” he says through the earpiece. “Don’t peek through the peephole either. Just open the door when they knock. I want it to be a surprise. But stay on the phone with me so I can hear your reaction.”

  I jump off the bed and rush to the door before anyone knocks. I’m impatient and excited, and I just can’t wait. Milo won’t know if I open…

  “You didn’t wait for me to knock!” he yells from down the hallway.

  I dash down the hallway toward him and collide into his arms. He wraps me up tightly and laughs before pushing me back into the hotel room. I toss my phone onto the bed and pull him into the best ‘I’ve missed you’ kiss I can manage. I’ve missed him so, so much.

  He pulls back, still laughing. The sunlight from the open blinds dances in his eyes, like speckles of glitter floating around on a piece of candy.

  “It’s insane outside,” he says. “I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to get inside to see you.”

  “And now the Saturnites and paparazzi know you’re here,” I say.

  He nods. “You know tonight will be crazy, right?” he asks, like a concerned parent.

  He pulls away from me and walks around the hotel room. He scrunches his mouth to one side. My heart already hates the way this feels. Words, Milo. Speak with words.

  “I was just thinking,” he says. “I don’t want this whole public appearance thing to ruin the show for you tonight. Maybe tonight isn’t the best time for us to be seen together. People are going to go crazy trying to get pictures. I just don’t want them to ruin this experience for you.”

  No. No, no, no, no, no. I did not fly to New York City with fanatical girls threatening my life just for him to decide this isn’t the best time. There is no way I’m letting his insecurities and worries and ‘management said’ attitude ruin this. Where’s Noah when I need him to punch my stupid boyfriend?!

  “What are you suggesting then?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.

  He shrugs. “I thought maybe we could just grab lunch and get it all over with now so there’s no pressure tonight,” he says.

  “Now,” I repeat the word. “Now is…perfect.”

  I can’t hide the sigh of relief in my words. A smile creeps onto his face.

  “You didn’t actually think I was backing out on you, did you?” he asks.

  I don’t reply. I don’t want to admit that I actually doubted him. He pulls me into a tight embrace, tilts my face up toward him, and kisses my forehead. A black and pink bracelet hugs his wrist.

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Ms. Branson,” he says. “So, lunch? Just the three of us? Me, you, and Tank?”

  There’s Dad’s voice again, running through my brain. It comes with the territory.

  “Lunch sounds good,” I say. I grab my room key and cell phone.

  “Jules and Tate went to meet up with Aralie earlier, so I knew you were here alone,” Milo says as we walk into the hallway. “I asked your dad if it was okay to come see you and take you out for lunch.”

  Sending a boy to my hotel room when I’m alone? Yeah, Dad really likes Milo.

  Tank waits for us in the hall. I walk between the bodyguard and Milo to the elevator.

  “Just stay directly behind me,” Tank explains. “Milo will be behind you. It’s better for your safety if you’re between us.”

  “Whatever you do, just keep moving,” Milo says. “These people get crazy, so just keep pushing through. Don’t worry about being nice.”

  “They have security outside,” Tank says. “But that doesn’t guarantee anything. The car is waiting, so just beeline for it. I’ll stop at the car door and let you guys in first.”

  “Do not let go of my hand,” Milo says.

  I feel like I’m in that scene from Titanic when the ship is plunging into the freezing ocean. Jack says the suction will pull them under. He demands Rose not let go of his hand. That’s exactly how Milo’s voice sounds right now.

  I just keep nodding to whatever they say. I knew post-lockdown with Milo would be insane, but there’s nothing I can do to prepare for the madness outside. Nothing will calm my erratic heartbeat or nervous breathing.

  An ocean of fear floods over me as we walk through the hotel lobby toward the glass doors. Two policemen stand inside. More uniforms wait outdoors.

  High-pitched screams echo off of the hotel walls.

  Bright camera flashes burst like a firework show.

  And then there’s an ever-familiar flutter.

  A smile sweeps my face as I feel them waking up from their eight-day nap. A calm wave of relief rushes over my ocean of fear. Lockdown may be over, but this is just the beginning. I should’ve known they wouldn’t abandon me when I need them the most.

  “It’s now or never,” Milo shouts over the screams outside. “You ready?”

  He squeezes my hand, and my butterflies dance to the tune of “Alien Morse Code.”

  I glance back at my boy and his caramel eyes.

  “I’ve never been more ready.”

  Acknowledgments

  If Spaceships Around Saturn was real, I'd give lifetime VIP tickets, friendship bracelets, and Oreo cookies to the following:

  *The many bloggers/fellow authors who promoted this book – From the cover reveal to the release day blast/blitz to the blog tour, you guys have helped spread the word about my little book, and I'm so very grateful. My heart fluttered every time someone added my book "to read" on Goodreads or tweeted about American Girl On Saturn. Your kind words and excitement (Michelle Parsons, I'm looking at you!) gave me a confidence in this book that I didn't have before. You're all worthy of Saturnite status!

  *The Directioners, Beliebers, and followers of the many, many fandoms out there – Thank you for your fangirlisms. You're all a part of this book in your
own ways. You guys inspired Saturnites.

  *Kelley aka nanogeekette – Thank for all the word sprints on Twitter! A good 20k of this book was written during word sprints with you. I don't think I could've pulled it off so quickly otherwise. Simply put, you rock!

  *One Direction – Obviously. These five beautiful guys really do light up my world like nobody else. Thank you for so much inspiration and amazing music.

  *Simple Plan – This band taught me what being a fangirl was all about waaaay back in 2002. Thank you for being the only band who has held it together over the years. I've grown up with you. You are the real Canadian loves in my life.

  *Hawthorne Heights – You guys give me strength. Thank you for being MY Sebastian's Shadow.

  *Ms. Wendy, my second mom – I wouldn't let just anyone be a public relations rep for Spaceships Around Saturn, but I knew you could handle it. I hope you liked your shout out. :)

  *Mom – Thank you for not killing Emily and me when we randomly change your cell phone wallpaper to photos of One Direction. Thank you for being a Harry Styles fan (even if it's because he's the only one whose name you can remember). Thanks for putting up with years of music fandoms (from boybands to punk rockers and back to boybands again) from Emily and me. You always go along with it, even if you don't appreciate the photos inside of your kitchen cabinet.

  *My fellow author, music lover, and friend Rebecca – I'm so very thankful to have found a friend in you. I can squee over bands (and 1D!), and I know that you understand what it's like to live for the music. I still think I should kick your neighbors out and move in next door so we can stalk bands, hang out on the beach, and freak out over 1D together.

  *Christina – I never meant for you to become a pre-reader or proofer for me, but oh how I’m glad you’ve fallen into my world! Thank you for reading an advanced copy of this book, even with my silly goof ups, and even more so for helping me catch them before pub date. Thank you for never getting annoyed with me for asking questions about what’s Canadian and what’s not. Thank you for letting me send you lengthy e-mails, for sharing character names with me, and for your appreciation of green eyes! I knew someday I’d meet my writerly match!