by Sherry Soule
“I’m fine. Just peachy.” My cheeks burn, partly out of self-consciousness and partly out of feeling like such an uncool babbling idiot. “Except there’s a tightness in my chest mixed with a crippling nausea.”
“You’ve had a hit-and-run by the Lancasters. But you know what the weird thing is? My mother referred to us as a twosome. In her own demented way, she was justifying us as a couple.”
“Holy crap. That is demented and weird.”
I really need a rewind. And a solid plan to get Hayden’s family to like me. So I’m secretly kicking off Operation Win-Over-the-Lancasters. Too bad, I’m clueless on how to do that.
A flash of bright pink catches my eye and I turn toward the entrance. Ice spreads through my stomach. Neela struts into the room, the skimpy dress she’s wearing hugging every curve and bony angle.
She goes straight to the bar with a flirty smile. Several Meleah guys gravitate toward her, leaving their stools to joggle for position. They seem drawn to her as if she’s a blooming rose and they’re bumblebees wanting to pollenate her flower.
And I thought this night couldn’t get any worse.
TWENTY
Turning in my seat, I reach out for Hayden’s hand resting on the table, but he moves his arm before my fingertips make contact. He stares past my shoulder with a grim expression at Nasty Neela.
I stab my fork into the scrumptious ploymanti fruit pie and take another bite. A stabby finger jabs me in the shoulder, launching a bit of fruit down my windpipe. I cough and gag like a patient in a TB ward, clutching at my throat. Tears spring to my eyes as my wheezing intensifies, and a sense of panic swells in my chest. I clutch at my throat, leaning over and coughing all over the table. My face heats, all the blood rushing into my head.
Hayden jerks out of his seat and shoves someone aside standing behind my chair.
Neela, all petite and moody, steps into my line of vision with an evil glint in her stare.
A hard slap strikes my back, followed by another, slamming me forward against the edge of the table, sputtering and coughing. The piece lodged in my throat pops out of my mouth like a cork from a champagne bottle and hits Neela square in the eye. She yelps and her face turns a dark purple.
“Thank you.” My voice sounds hoarse and scratchy from my near-death-by-fruit-pie moment.
Hayden retakes his seat. “Anytime, Peaches.”
“I’m the one who’s been injured!” Neela shrieks like a piglet and covers her bruised eye socket with one hand. “Ahhh! You stupid, food spitting whore!”
The other patrons watch the drama unfold. Even the Lancasters across the room observe the verbal smackdown. I’m starting to hyperventilate, and I haven’t even channeled my inner-bitch yet.
It takes a minute for the tears to clear from my eyes before I shoot Nasty Neela a death glare. “I know you’re not talking to me.”
“You put my father in prison, and then you steal my fiancé,” she says, her voice gruff. “And now you’re rubbing it in my face!”
“You’re father tried to kill me, so he got what he deserved,” I say coolly. “Besides, you can’t steal something that was never yours to begin with.”
Neela gives me a wide-eyed look as if the air supply was cut off from my brain during my choking fit. “Daddy was only trying to get you to back off.”
“Are you kidding me?” I say in a brittle tone. “I hope your father rots in jail for thirty years making license plates and becoming special friends with a dude named Bubba.”
“Why are you so mean? You need to understand that you’re unworthy of joining a noble family,” Neela says, her voice rising an octave. “And how Hayden and I belong together!”
Just slap a cap on her trifecta of crazy. A blistery heat spreads all through my body and a white-hot flash of anger sears my chest. I try to ignore the other diners eavesdropping on our conversation while my rage meter climbs into the red zone.
“Well, I could agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong,” I say as a mixture of anger and embarrassment writhe inside me.
The aliens and Meleah seated closest to our table turn to gape, and one robot swivels his metal head in our direction. Even Hayden’s family watches with keen interest and Mrs. Lancaster wears a sneer. Operation Win-Over-the-Lancasters is already crashing in a fiery blaze of failure.
Tucking hair behind my ear with a shaking hand, I try to tamp down on my emotions. I fear at any moment someone will call security and escort us out of the building.
Can you say awkward?
“Whatever.” Neela’s hand clutches my shoulder, her sharp fingernails digging into my skin. “May I have a moment alone with Hayden?”
He doesn’t respond. I shrug off Neela’s hand and I stare at my boyfriend. Time to know how he’ll will handle simpering females now that we’re officially together.
His shoulders stiffen, and he scratches his chin before answering. “Neela, I’m with Sloane. I want you to accept it and move on, please.”
“Thank you,” I mouth to him.
Hayden nods and mouths, “No biggie.”
Neela stands frozen like a mannequin in a store window while his words sink into her dense brain. Her bottom lip trembles and her eyes fill with tears. “Hayden, do you really want to stand directly in the storm path of Cyclone Sloane? From what I hear, you won’t survive!”
She spins on her heel and races to the bar where her fan-boys anxiously wait. One of the guys buys Neela a drink that looks alcoholic. Guess Zetas don’t check ID on this planet.
Hayden and I sit there in stunned silence. Several people gawk at us and my face grows so hot that any low-flying aircraft in the vicinity might mistake me for a warning beacon.
I dare a glance in Neela’s direction as she walks over to the Lancaster’s table. They’re leaning forward and having an intense conversation. Mr. Lancaster taps on the table with his fingers, his mouth turning into a permanent frown. Neela’s crying and making a scene. Her fingers knot like a cord and her shoulders heave with each breath. Neela’s acting like an A-list diva. She must be really working herself up like a nuclear reactor, getting ready for a full-on meltdown, and I just want to avoid the atomic fallout.
Needing to escape another Neela showdown, I scoot out of my seat. “I need fresh air.”
Hayden leads me upstairs and outside. The tropical winds rush over my heated skin and cool me down. A melancholy song flows through the outside speakers, the Zeta singer’s voice soaring above the melody.
We walk on the squishy grass, the night thriving with twittering insects and screeching birds. I follow Hayden along the side of the cavern, my fingers trailing across the warm yellow stone. A bright point of light moves rapidly across the sky. It reminds me of the time Hayden and I wished on a shooting star when we first started dating. Seems like a trillion years ago.
“Do you like to dance?” Hayden drops a kiss on the top of my head.
“Um, not really. All my killer dance moves look more like I’m telling the guy on first base to steal second.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Once I accused Jonah of stealing my dance moves, but it turns out he just had to pee and couldn’t wait for me to vacate the bathroom.”
He laughs and grips my hand, pulling me into his strong embrace. “Then I’ll lead.” His breath strokes my cheek as we sway to the music in this romantic-movie way. “Well, it’s not the middle of the street like in The Notebook, but will this do?”
Sighing, I press closer to him. “It’s one of my favorite scenes.”
“Guess I can cross this off the list.”
I lean back. “What list? You make lists, too?”
“Sort of, I just remembered everything you said after I clumsily proposed about wanting it to be magical, so I’m trying to do that for you.”
My heart goes pitter-patter. “Well, keep up the good work.”
“I’ll do my best.”
We dance in silence for several minutes.
“You know,
I’ve hardly thought about ST since we left.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” he murmurs.
“Nope. Sector Thirteen must be going nuts wondering where we are. There’s a lot of Meleah unaccounted for back on Earth.”
We stop dancing and walk into the woods along a dirt path, a balmy breeze caressing our skin.
Hayden kicks at a pile of rocks. “By now General Athens must be ripping his hair out, or getting his ass chewed by that crazy doctor you told me about.”
“I hope it’s the latter.” I play with a strand of purple hair. “What do think’s gonna happen when we go home?”
“I haven’t got a clue. Although, I do know it’s time for the Meleah to band together…or permanently move here.”
“Live on Reticuli? I don’t know about that…” I grimace at the whine creeping into my voice. “Sure, it’ll be safer, but I can’t live without TV, or movie theaters, or my cat. Reticuli is beautiful and all, but it’s sorely lacking cute felines.”
“Well, I guess Plan B is out,” Hayden says.
“What’s Plan A?”
“The integration program,” he says. “I just have to persuade the GB leaders that it’s our best option if we hope to live in peace with humans.”
“Boy, are the people of Earth in for a shock,” I say, giggling. “All those conspiracy theory guys are gonna be all, ‘I told you so about Area Fifty-One.’ And then the Meleah can have a coming-out-of-the-spacepod party.”
“We’ll be changing history, that’s for sure.”
“If the integration program gets the green light, what will happen to ST?”
“Hopefully they’ll get the boot by the government.”
“Yeah, that would be good.” I pump a fist into the air. “Go team integration!”
“I’ve been thinking…I might take my GED and finish school early when we get back.”
“Why? Don’t you want the whole cap and gown, walk across the stage experience?”
“I don’t care about the formalities,” Hayden says. “The sooner I’m done with school, the faster I can take on my leadership responsibilities and kickstart the integration program with your dad.”
“Well, if that’s something you feel strongly about, then you should do it.”
He pulls me closer. “Let’s forget about those ST asshats while we’re here.” Hayden nuzzles my neck under my hair. “Did I ever tell you that I fell for you the first moment I saw you at school with your crazy hair.”
“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice. But the real test is…will you still love me if, let’s say, my hair was blue? Or green? What if I dyed it red—”
He silences my silliness with a heart-melting kiss, causing my body to heat up with tingly sensations. Pulling back, I lay my head on his shoulder, and his hand strokes my hair, our bodies pressing together. I melt in his arms, and he kisses the pulse on my throat behind my ears. I lift my head and it almost feels as if our pheromones mingle and catch fire as we gaze into each other’s eyes. A sensual jolt sweeps through my body when his lips find mine. He kisses me and kisses me until I can’t remember his parents’s horrible comments or Neela’s general nastiness.
Finally, he leans back, breathing hard and resting his forehead against mine. Hayden untangles himself from my embrace when I try to pull him close again.
“I’m glad we made up. I get this pit in my stomach whenever we fight. Lately, I don’t care about anything else but you and me, Peaches.”
I sigh. “You’re such a romantic.”
We stand there a moment before his arms encircle my waist.
“Only because you bring it out in me,” Hayden says in a husky voice. “I want to get you a ring and announce our engagement.”
I pull out of his arms. “I haven’t even said yes yet. Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”
“I’m feeling fairly confident that you’ll say yes eventually.” When his soft gaze meets mine—I almost agree. “You still don’t get it. You’ve done something permanent to my heart, Sloane Masterson.”
He cracks a smile and I smile back.
At that crooked grin, all my defenses dissolve. I move closer and my hands reach to pull his head down so I can greedily put my mouth over his again. My fingers twine into his hair. That kiss lasts and lasts, making me feel unreal. When we part, his face is flushed. The desire flaring in his eyes is intense and inviting. Hayden and I are in our own little world where no one else can touch us.
“Why don’t you come to dinner with my family and try to win them over?” he whispers, his breath tickling my face.
I jerk out of his arms. After that encounter with his parents, I’d rather stick a sharp needle in my eyeball than share a meal with them, but maybe all I need is a reboot. A chance to win them over with my sharp wit and lovable charm. Part two on Operation Win-Over-the-Lancasters might turn out to be superior, although I realize most sequels never live up to all the hype.
“Hayden, I love you. I would take a bullet or two for you, but I get the feeling that they’re going to need more time to get used to the idea of an us.”
He raises his hands to his face, making a little tent around his nose and mouth. Then he drops his hands, as if resolved, and looks at me. “Please, Peaches?”
I shake my head. “I’d rather swallow razor blades than have dinner with your family of Sloane-haters.”
Hayden rubs his chin, looking all broody. “It’s important to me. Meeting the parents comes with the territory. We can’t put it off forever, and I want my family to love you as much as I do.”
“And if they never do?”
“We’ll worry about crossing that bridge when we come to it.”
“Unless your mother pushes me off it first,” I mumble.
“If that happens, I’ll dive in after you,” he says. “And we’ll swim to the shore together.”
“Okay, then maybe…and thanks for dinner tonight, my dashing hero-man,” I say to lighten the mood. “Have I mentioned how much I’m loving the birthday slash anniversary date?”
“No, but I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Well, that pastry you ordered was so lip-smacking good that even if this date totally sucked, that dessert would’ve saved it.”
Hayden grins. “Even when you’re being all Miss Gloom and Doom, you’re still adorable.”
“Hey, I’m not gloomy, only pragmatic.”
Hayden moves closer, lifting one hand and brushing away hair from my eyes with his fingers. “It’s time we moved onto phase two of the evening.”
“There are phases?”
“The night’s not over yet, Peaches.”
“What’s next on the agenda?”
“A surprise.”
“This is just like the Christmas when I got a first edition Rosemary’s Baby hardback,” I say, clapping with excitement.
Hayden laces his fingers with mine, and I shut out all the crazy. As we walk down the path lined with purple trees and yellow grass, and birds chirping quietly, my heart feels lighter. Despite everything else that’s happened tonight, this awesome movie moment, at least, is perfect.
FIGHT NIGHT BABBLE
Greetings, Fellow Horrorphilas!
This cliché is so annoying, I wanna dropkick a screenwriter. Why are humans always the good guys and aliens are usually the baddies? There are some notable exclusions like E.T., District 9, Ender’s Game, and Avatar.
And then there’s the trope where evil aliens attempt to blow us up, but why not the other way around? That the Martians even want to kill us is obviously because our planet has some precious resource that no other hunk of rock hurtling through space has, or humans are just inherently special snowflakes. Ugh.
Independence Day was twenty years ago, people! The sequel? Only a repeat of the first film, without the amazing Will Smith. Boo-hoo.
Let’s try to get over our own political/social problems by banding together to invade Mars…because you know we would. We’ve been invading other count
ries for decades, so why not colonize another planet. And just to be fair, we can let the Native American Indians do it, since they deserve first crack at owning some land.
Peace, love, and horror flicks,
Sloane
TWENTY-ONE
After teleporting to a new location on my date-night with Hayden, we reappear in front of a platinum fence, the rods glowing a ghoulish green in the dark.
“Hayden, where are we?”
“Did you ever see Pet Sematary?”
“Sure, but the book was so much better.”
“Well, this place is nothing like that.” He takes my hand. “Come on.”
Hayden leads me into a Zeta cemetery, and an excited tingle runs over my skin. Unlike the cold, grayness of boneyards on Earth, there are rows of brightly colored headstones that remind me of Day of the Dead, a festive Mexican holiday to honor loved ones who have died. Every grave has a flowerbed, and the whole area is like a tropical garden. Instead of leaving a floral tribute on a Zeta’s final resting place, their relatives have actually planted the flora. Alien corpses must make excellent fertilizer because this graveyard is lush with vegetation.
My heart turns to mushy girly goo. Gallivanting through a burial ground might be a macabre evening for some girls, but this is the most romantic gesture Hayden could ever make for a dark-side chick like me. This cemetery is so unique and charming that I’m in awe of the way the Zetas pay their respects to the dead. Nothing mourning about this place.
“Come on. Ghost hunting time.” Hayden holds a hand out to me.
“Ha. Ha.” I grasp his fingers and the touch of our entwined hands still causes glitter-winged butterflies to start fluttering in my stomach. “Wait, you’re serious.”
“Damn, right. Let’s go.”
Thousands of twinkling stars shine in darkening sky and several gray strands of ragged clouds drift over the moon. Light winds moan through the trees, and the branches cast long, undulating shadows over the ground. We stroll through the rows of graves. The breeze is heavy with the scent of exotic flowers and fresh dirt.
