The Wild One

by Melinda Metz

  “Hey, you got so quiet. I’m sorry,” Maria said. “I didn’t mean to make you start thinking about sad stuff.”

  “You didn’t. It’s okay.” Liz twisted her hair into a knot on the top of her head. “So what about Michael?” she asked. She wanted a big subject change immediatamente.

  Maria’s head jerked up. “Michael?”

  “Yeah. We were done talking about your love life,” Liz said.

  “You mean lack of,” Maria interrupted.

  “And we already covered mine and Max’s and Isabel’s and Alex’s,” Liz continued. “That leaves Michael’s. Do you think there’s anybody he likes at school?”

  Maria cut the word pain out of her magazine and carefully trimmed it. “Not that I know of,” she answered. “Do you think Michael could even, I mean, would he want to, you know, go out with a human?”

  “I guess he did used to keep away from humans,” Liz said. “But that was before he really got to know the wonderful us.”

  “I wonder if ‘the wonderful us’ will convince Nikolas that humans are people, too,” Maria commented.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t think Michael ever thought of us as insects,” Liz answered. She shook her head, and her long, dark hair fell back down around her shoulders. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about Nikolas. I know Max is worried about him, too.”

  “What do you think Nikolas and Isabel are doing right now?” Maria asked. She painted her thumbnail with clear polish and carefully placed a scrap of paper on top.

  “Whatever they’re doing, I hope they’re not using their power,” Liz said. “I’m not ready to do a face-off with Valenti again.”

  “Do you think we should tell Max that Isabel took off with Nikolas?” Maria asked.

  Liz thought about it. It would give her an excuse to call Max, hear his voice, torture herself a little. But there was nothing he could really do. There was nothing any of them could do if Nikolas and Isabel decided to go wild with their power.

  “No,” she said. “I mean, it’s not like they’re going to do anything illegal.”

  “Uh, do the words breaking and entering mean anything to you?” Isabel asked Nikolas.

  “Human rules are for humans,” he answered. “What? You’ve never used your power to pick a lock?” Nikolas glanced over his shoulder at her.

  “I guess I’ve just lived a sheltered life,” she answered.

  “I can fix that,” he said. A slow, lopsided grin spread across his face.

  Isabel felt her stomach flip over. Oh yes. Nikolas definitely had it going on.

  “Focus on the molecules of the bolt and squeeze them together. It’s a no-brainer,” Nikolas explained. He swung the door open and pulled Isabel inside.

  The place smelled like … a bowling alley. Isabel thought bowling was basically disgusting. She’d only gone once, at some kid’s birthday party when she was little. But she remembered the whole process was gross. You had to wear shoes that a bunch of stinky feet had been in before you. Even the holes in the bowling balls felt grimy. There were always little crumbs or dirt balls or something inside them.

  The only reason she was here was because Nikolas wanted to go bowling, and Isabel wanted to be where Nikolas was. Which was a first. Guys always came to Isabel. But Nikolas is no ordinary guy, she reminded herself.

  “I think those big bowling balls make it too easy. I use these.” Nikolas wandered over to one of the pool tables and picked up a couple of the striped balls. He tossed her one, and she was surprised how heavy it was.

  He pulled up the edge of his T-shirt to make sort of a bag and piled a bunch of the balls inside. Isabel tried not to stare at his stomach. It was hard and flat, with each group of muscles clearly defined. He was perfect. He wasn’t too bulked up or too lean. Absolutely yummy.

  “Come on,” Nikolas said. He flipped on a row of light switches with his elbow and led the way over to the closest lane.

  At least the pool balls don’t have any grubby little holes, Isabel thought.

  Nikolas dumped his pool balls on the polished wooden floor and stretched out on his stomach next to them. He grabbed one of the balls and slammed it down the lane. The pins went down with a loud clatter.

  I forgot about the noise, Isabel thought. Another wonderful part of the whole bowling ambiance.

  “Woo-hoo!” Nikolas yelled. “A strike for me.”

  Isabel smiled. Maybe there were a few ways Nikolas was an ordinary guy. It was kind of sweet. “You cheated, though,” she told him. “I could feel you using your power to push the ball.”

  Nikolas sat up and shook his head at her. “Someone did a number on you,” he said. “Why is using power cheating? We’re born with it. Is it cheating for you to look as good as you do? You were born with that hair, and those eyes, and … everything else.”

  So, he did think she was pretty. Well, he better watch himself, or he was going to find himself one of those guys who followed Isabel around with drool running out of their mouths. She liked that idea—a lot.

  “Max just thinks that using power is dangerous,” Isabel said. He had drilled into her that her power was something that should only be used in an emergency. Of course, she used it a lot more often than that, but she always felt sort of guilty.

  Nikolas snorted. “Max. Max needs to figure out that he’s not human. He’s never going to be human. And that is a very good thing.”

  He stretched back out on the floor. Isabel felt a power surge, and suddenly Nikolas went speeding down the lane, skimming about an inch above the wooden floor. He knocked down the pins with his head. He jumped to his feet. “Yeah! Could a human do that?”

  Isabel shook her head. “Would a human want to do that?” she asked.

  “You’ve got to try it,” he said. “It’s like flying.”

  Flying. Just being with Nikolas was like flying. She felt totally free with him. Free and light and shining. So completely different from the way she felt around Max and the others. Yeah, she cared about them, and she knew they cared about her. But sometimes it felt as if they were dragging her down with all their worries and cautions and carefulness.

  “Are you going to try it or not?” Nikolas demanded.

  “No way. That’s like one step beyond crushing beer cans with your head, which is a pretty stupid human trick,” Isabel said. Yeah, she had agreed to go bowling, but she had to draw the line somewhere. Besides, it wasn’t good for Nikolas to get his way all the time.

  “You shouldn’t say no way to anything. You should try everything at least once,” Nikolas said.

  A second later Isabel found herself facedown, floating an inch above the floor, shooting straight toward the pins. “Nikolas, no!” she yelled. Just as her head was about to crash into the pins Isabel flew straight up into the air.

  Nikolas swaggered down the lane and stared up at her. “Now tell me that wasn’t fun,” he said. And she felt herself being gently lowered to her feet.

  “It was fun,” she admitted. In fact, she’d never felt anything like it—it had been like the world’s most amazing roller coaster.

  “I’m starving. Do they have a snack bar in this place?” Nikolas asked. He headed to the back of the alley. “Score. They have a soft-ice-cream machine.” He vaulted over the wooden counter.

  Isabel ducked under it. She reached for the light switch in the concession stand, but Nikolas stopped her. “It’s more fun in the dark,” he murmured.

  Isabel shrugged. She could see better in the dark, anyway.

  “Have you ever shotgunned ice cream?” he asked. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the machine.

  “Oh no. No,” Isabel said. “I’m wearing a new shirt.”

  “So take it off,” Nikolas challenged. He pulled off his T-shirt and threw it in the corner.

  Isabel decided to wipe the little smirk off his face. It’s not like her bra didn’t cover as much as a bikini top, anyway. She unbuttoned her shirt buttons slowly, teasing him a little. He deserved it.

 
She felt a little stab of satisfaction when she noticed the muscles in Nikolas’s throat working. Got you, didn’t I? she thought. Well, it was only fair. Looking at Nikolas without his shirt was doing some interesting things to her, too.

  “Okay, come sit on the floor and tilt your head under the spigot.” Isabel noticed that Nikolas’s voice sounded a little husky. And he was having about as much luck not checking out her breasts as she’d had keeping her eyes off his abs.

  Nikolas grabbed a squirt bottle of mustard off the counter. “We can use this as a chaser.”

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Isabel said. But she got into position under the machine and opened her mouth. Nikolas pulled down the spigot. The machine started to hum, then a big blob of ice cream plopped down on her. Some of it got into her mouth, but some of it got in her nose. She started to choke.

  Nikolas shut off the machine and grabbed some napkins. He held Isabel’s chin between his fingers and started wiping off her face. He could be so wild, so outrageous. But sometimes when he touched her, he was so totally gentle.

  “Fun, huh?” he asked.

  “Yeah, you have to try it.” Isabel shoved Nikolas’s head under the spigot and turned it on. He tilted back his head and caught some of the ice cream with his mouth. He squirted in some mustard after it.

  “Is that a good combination?” Isabel asked. “I usually put Tabasco sauce.”

  “You want a taste?” Nikolas pulled Isabel over to him and kissed her. A kiss that she felt straight down to her toes. She ran her hands down his bare back. Hard muscles under soft, warm skin. Mmm.

  Nikolas licked a dollop of ice cream off her nose. Then moved in for another kiss. Isabel pressed her hands against his chest. “Wait,” she whispered.

  “I don’t like to wait,” Nikolas said.

  Isabel stared at him, falling deeper into his golden brown eyes. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat.

  “Nikolas. …” she whispered as his mouth came down on hers once more.

  “Hey!” a harsh voice yelled. “Who’s back there?”

  Isabel jerked away from Nikolas and peeked over the top of the counter. One of those rent-a-cop security guys stood there, squinting into the darkness.

  “Stay here,” Nikolas whispered.

  He crawled to the end of the counter and started to circle behind the guard. Isabel could hardly stand to watch. Any second he would get caught.

  Max was going to kill her. Michael too. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it on. If she got arrested or something, she wanted to be fully dressed.

  The guard moved closer to the counter—and Nikolas made his move. He touched the back of the guard’s head, and the guard instantly slumped to the floor.

  “Come on,” Nikolas called. Isabel ducked under the counter and almost stepped on the guard’s hand.

  She jumped back, staring down at the man in horror.

  Nikolas grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “Come on,” he repeated. He ran out to his bike and swung her on behind him. Then he roared out of the parking lot.

  Isabel gasped for air. Nikolas killed that guy, she thought frantically. One second he was kissing me, and the next second he killed someone.

  She dug her fingernails into the sides of the motorcycle seat. She would rather fall off than touch Nikolas right now.

  At least he was taking her home. He turned onto her street and pulled up in front of her house. She practically fell off the motorcycle and stumbled away from him.

  Nikolas snagged her hand and pulled her back. “No good night kiss?” he asked.

  “You killed someone,” Isabel snapped. She tried to jerk her hand away, but Nikolas wouldn’t let her.

  “A human,” Nikolas answered. “What? You’ve never swatted a fly or stepped on a cockroach?”

  “That’s enough with the stupid insect thing! I have to go inside,” Isabel said. She knew Nikolas had no interest in humans. But she’d never imagined he would actually kill one.

  Nikolas squeezed her hand. “Kidding. I’m kidding. I didn’t kill that guard. I just knocked him out.”

  He climbed off his bike and put his hands on Isabel’s shoulders. He kissed her gently. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Really?” Isabel asked, her heart rate slowing a little.

  Nikolas kissed her again. “Really. Now no more human talk.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her until she was so breathless, she couldn’t talk about anything.

  Liz hurried out of the cafe. She wanted to spend the next couple of hours doing research for her debate against Arlene Bluth. Arlene had checked out every book the school library had on their topic. Liz didn’t believe Arlene needed every single one of the books to prepare—she just didn’t want Liz to have them. That would be assisting the enemy, and Arlene never did that.

  So Liz was heading to the public library, hoping Arlene hadn’t hit it already. As she crossed Alameda, Sheriff Valenti fell in step beside her.

  Liz didn’t slow down, but she didn’t speed up, either. She tried to keep her face expressionless and her breathing nice and even. Inside she was having a mini-freak-out, but Valenti didn’t have to know that.

  They walked down the street in silence, side by side. If he wants to ask me something, he’s going to have to be the one to talk first, Liz thought. Why should she make it easy for him?

  “You’re looking well, Ms. Ortecho,” Valenti finally said. “I thought you might be grieving for your dead friend.”

  Liz stopped suddenly. Running away wasn’t working. It was time to just get this over with, even though standing next to the sheriff like this made the little hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  Valenti shoved his mirrored sunglasses higher on his nose. Liz hated those things. When she tried to look into the sheriff’s eyes, all she saw were two little images of her own face.

  “Perhaps I’m mistaken,” he replied. “I assumed that the alien who drove his truck off the Lake Lee overlook was the one you were trying so hard to protect when we last spoke.”

  He paused, letting the silence stretch out between them. Liz’s throat felt as dry and rough as sandpaper. She swallowed hard, hoping Valenti didn’t notice. She didn’t want him to realize how nervous he was making her.

  “But I have new evidence to suggest there is still at least one alien in Roswell,” Valenti continued. “Maybe that’s why I find you looking so well today. Maybe your alien is safe and sound, not putrefying somewhere at the bottom of our bottomless lake.”

  He got that right. Her aliens, Max and Michael, had been in the truck Valenti chased to the overlook. But they’d jumped out before it had gone over the edge. There was no alien putrefying in the lake, just one old truck rusting.

  Of course, Liz wasn’t going to tell Valenti that. And she wasn’t going to start asking him a bunch of questions or making a lot of protests, either. Talking to Valenti was dangerous. You might not mean to tell him anything, but he had a way of using every word you spoke to manipulate you into saying more and more.

  “I know, I know, you don’t believe in aliens,” Valenti said, answering for her. “But one of those creatures that don’t exist broke into the bowling alley last night.”

  “Yeah, everyone knows aliens love to bowl,” Liz couldn’t resist responding. “There’s no chance it was just some humans out for a good time.”

  “I might agree with your theory if it wasn’t for the security guard,” Valenti said. “He was found unconscious. No evidence of a blow to the head. No evidence of drug or alcohol use. No medical condition.”

  He pulled off his sunglasses and studied her with his cold gray eyes. She couldn’t decide which was worse—not being able to see his eyes or seeing them. “I can think of only one explanation,” he said. “The guard was incapacitated by an alien’s powers.”

  Nikolas, Liz thought. And if Isabel didn’t help, I bet anything she was at least there when he did it.
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  Valenti stared at her for a few more endless moments, then he replaced his sunglasses. “I suspect that as always, you know more than you are choosing to tell me. Just remember, next time a human could end up dead—and you did nothing to prevent it from happening.”

  He turned on his heel and strode away. Liz watched him until he was out of sight.

  What are we going to do? she thought. How are we going to keep Valenti from finding out the truth this time?

  * * *

  “Did you know that the man who took the very first photograph of Elvis also filmed the autopsies of the four aliens found at the Roswell crash site?” Ray asked Max.

  Max shook his head. It was only his second day on the job, and he was still trying to get used to the way the guy was always saying something outrageous.

  “I want you to go on-line and see what you can dig up about him. I think his name is Barrett, something like that,” Ray said. “You can use the computer at the information desk. If anyone comes up with a question you can’t answer, call me. We get some pretty wackadoodle questions here.”

  “You got it, chief,” Max said. He headed over to the computer and logged on. This should be kind of fun. He always liked reading people’s theories about the Roswell Incident. One of his favorites was that the aliens were really angels. It was pretty funny to think of Michael as an angel. Or Isabel. His sister wasn’t exactly the angelic type.

  He typed aliens and Elvis in the search box and hit enter. He shifted on the hard metal chair. All the rhinestones of his Elvis jumpsuit were sticking into him. He just hoped that Ray didn’t decide to do some exhibit on the connection between Marilyn Monroe and aliens because he was not dressing up like her, cool job or no cool job.

  A list of more than a thousand possible matches for aliens and Elvis came up. Max skimmed the first twenty on the list, trying to figure out which one was the most likely to have the info he needed.

  Max heard footsteps rushing toward the information desk. He glanced up and saw Liz. He jumped to his feet and hurried around the desk to meet her. “What’s wrong?” He knew it was something serious. Liz’s usually placid aura was leaping and dancing around her head, streaks of red shooting through the beautiful amber color.