by Robin Martin
That part cheered me up. And surely something that had lived for over four thousand years was smart enough to figure things out and get back to where it belonged. I was worrying over nothing.
Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I moved quickly down the street.
Chapter Six
It was chilly outside, and I really could have used that jumper Rion had kept nagging me about. Hugging myself, I started to power walk. My house was closer than Jas’s so I decided to head there. I’d text Jas and let her know I’d be going home tonight. I didn’t think she’d mind much. As for my parents, they’d probably be in bed by now. Luckily I had my house key in my bag. By morning I’d figure out an explanation for why I was home and not at Jas’s, and by then I’d be free of that annoying alien.
As I walked I began to feel … not so good. Other than three bites of pizza and half a Coke, I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, so it couldn’t be that. My head began to throb; I was feeling dizzy and nauseous. Maybe I was coming down with something. My warm, cosy bed at home started to look more inviting. I quickened my pace.
My head started spinning and I felt like I was going to spew any minute. This night totally sucked, and I’d had such high hopes. It was all Rion’s fault. I was sure I would’ve done better without his interference and schemes, which had done zilch to help me. Ever since Rion had come into my life, it had gone south.
Yuck, be still, stomach. And why were the streetlights wavering? Perhaps I needed to sit down. Looking around, I saw a Poinciana tree on the edge of a front lawn. It had a sturdy, knotted trunk that was just right for leaning against. Scanning for any dogs that might be lurking, I went over to the tree and inched to the ground. Then I drew up my knees, and rested my arms and head on them.
Sucking in the cold night air, I tried to calm my stomach and clear my head. Breathe in, breath out. It’s all good. I’m not going to be sick. I am not going to be sick.
For a minute or two it was touch and go, and then gradually the feeling went. I lifted my head. The streetlight across the road was still wavering, so I didn’t trust myself to get up yet. What was wrong with me?
I rested my head against the bark of the tree and closed my eyes to think. Maybe it had been a mistake to leave the party without telling anyone. Maybe I acted a teensy bit rashly. I still had a ten- or fifteen-minute walk before I got home, but right now I didn’t think I could put one foot in front of the other.
And I was alone. It was late at night and I was alone. Okay, it wasn’t exactly crime central here in suburban Brisbane, but still, things happened.
I was fine, absolutely fine. I just needed a short rest and I could get going again. There was absolutely no reason to worry. No reason at all.
I heard the sound of a car and opened my eyes to see headlights coming from around the corner. I froze and closed my eyes again tightly. What good that was going to do, I didn’t know. But I suddenly understood those little kids who think you can’t see them because they can’t see you. Illogical, but I got it now.
As I heard the car come down the street, I tensed and held my breath. Closer and closer … and then it passed by. My breath came out in a gush of wind as the sound of the car got fainter and fainter. I opened my eyes again to the cold, dark night.
How ridiculous. What a wimp. Man up, I told myself. I could just hear the stern lecture that soap bubble would give me right now, except it wasn’t a soap bubble any longer. ‘It’ was Rion, a real, live, breathing, teenage boy who made every other guy, even Chad Everett, look dull and boring.
Okay, maybe not Chad Everett, although Chad was fast losing his appeal for me now that I knew there was little chance he’d ever show the remotest interest in me. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried. And I supposed, to give him credit, Rion had also made an effort to help me. For a while it had been kind of fun dancing with him, and it had even caused people to notice me. Maybe it wasn’t Rion’s fault that Chad wasn’t one of them.
I wondered what Rion would do when he found out I’d gone. Would he get the hint and dematerialise back to wherever he’d come from? Maybe his feelings would be hurt. I’d noticed that occasionally he got sensitive over the slightest things. I was sorry about that, because I didn’t like hurting anyone, not even him. After all, he thought he was helping me with all that advice.
It was just so hard living with that little voice inside me all the time. Seriously, an alien over four thousand years old and a teenage girl didn’t have all that much in common. I needed to be free of Rion, but I didn’t mean him any harm. After all, now that we were separate beings I was sure that he’d be okay. I wasn’t totally convinced by his story that we had to stay close. He was probably exaggerating; he did that a lot.
Nothing bad would happen to him, would it? Surely not, but how did I know? What if he couldn’t get back to his people and got stranded here? What if he dematerialised into that bubble again and someone stomped on him or something? What if …
I closed my mind to any other horror thoughts. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to get worried.
I knew what I had to do. I had to go back. Damn. A conscience is a very inconvenient thing at times.
I wasn’t as dizzy as before. I was just about to get up and go when I heard another sound. It was someone running. Pushing down a panic attack, I moved around to the other side of the tree. It was probably just a jogger; a keep-fit freak who thought midnight was the perfect time for a run. But just in case, I crouched and hoped the tree would hide me.
As the footsteps got louder, instead of being sick I started to feel much better. My dizziness had gone and my stomach had settled. Maybe fear and worry had driven my sickness away.
Uh-oh. The jogger’s footsteps were slowing to a walk, and they were much closer. Not good. Not good at all. I held my breath again and looked around for a fallen branch or something I could use as a weapon. Nothing in sight at all. Just my luck.
The footsteps slowed and stopped.
‘Zoe, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’
I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved to hear his voice. I rose and came around to the front of the tree again where he was standing, hands on hips and glowering down at me.
‘Rion, what are you doing here?’
‘Looking for you, obviously. Have you any idea how many streets I’ve been down searching for you? Explain.’ He was breathing hard and the look he gave me could have melted steel, it was so fiery.
I stepped back from him, judging it wise to put some distance between us. ‘I was on my way home, but then—’
‘Without telling me, without even telling Jas, whose house you’re supposed to be sleeping at tonight.’ He never gave me the chance to finish telling him I was on my way back there.
‘I would’ve texted her,’ I said in self-defence.
‘And what about me?’ he said. ‘What was I supposed to do? Did you even think about that, Zoe?’
I shifted from one foot to the other, a little uncomfortable and not really sure how to answer that one. If I told him the truth and said I’d wanted to get rid of him I was afraid he’d explode before I could explain that I’d changed my mind. I wondered how angry an alien could get. I hadn’t counted on this.
As I tried to work out a plausible explanation, the silence stretched. Rion’s heavy breathing and angry vibes filled the air. Then he let out an expression that was partly a loud grunt and partly what sounded like a swearword. But if it was a swearword, it was one I’d never heard before, so maybe it was an alien one.
‘You wanted to leave me so you’d be free. That’s it, isn’t it?’
I didn’t answer.
‘Of all the ungrateful, narrow-minded, selfish and cruel beings I’ve ever inhabited, you win the prize. Not even Claudius—and he sent the Christians to the lions in the Coliseum—was as insensitive or unkind to me as you. And General Vigo, who was extremely intelligent, valued my advice highly in his campaign against the French. He certainly never wanted to get
rid of me. I actually tried to help you. I even went against my better instincts to take this form just so you would look good to your peers and that boy. And this is the thanks I get. I had thought better of you, Zoe.’
He turned his back to me and I could see by the set of his shoulders that he was mega-upset.
I cleared my throat. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I guess I acted a bit impulsively. But I’ve been thinking it over and I was just about to go back to the party when you came.’
‘Do you expect me to believe that?’
‘Well, it’s true. I started to worry about whether you would be okay and so I decided to go back. And as for being cruel, that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? I mean, you could go back to your mothership and all.’
‘Mothercloud,’ he snapped. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? And no, I could not. I thought I’d explained all that to you. But I forgot I was dealing with a creature of such low intelligence.’
Maybe if he hadn’t added that last bit I might have kept my temper. And he’d kept his back to me, which was also kind of insulting.
‘Listen to me,’ I said, putting my hands on my hips. ‘I never asked you to inhabit me. You’ve invaded my privacy, my life and even my free will at times. It’s so not cool. So back off, you over-inflated egomaniac of a soap bubble.’
He whirled around to face me. ‘I never wanted you as a host, either. Do you really think you’d be my first choice? A hormonal, self-entitled teenage girl with zero understanding of the superior being she’s dealing with?’
We exchanged death glares for a moment.
Then I said, ‘But I’m not your host any more. You’re real and separate.’ At the moment he seemed very real and human, and so much harder to deal with than a soap bubble. ‘What’s the big deal if we sever the link? The sooner the better.’ I crossed my arms.
For a few moments there was heavy, angry breathing from both of us.
‘Because that’s not how it works,’ he said, making a visible effort to calm down. ‘Tell me, Zoe, how do you feel right now?’
I was surprised by the question. ‘I’ve been better. This definitely wouldn’t rank in the top ten moments of my life.’
He made an impatient movement with his hand. ‘Aside from your moods, which at your age are as changeable as the wind, how do you feel physically?’
‘Didn’t know you cared. Are you going to give me another lecture on health food and clean living? Seems an odd time to do it, but then you’re not very good with timing.’
‘Just answer the question, Zoe.’
‘Don’t get snappy with me again. Well, to tell the truth I’ve been feeling a bit sick. That’s why I sat down by this tree. But I feel much better now.’
‘Do you know why you felt sick?’
I shrugged. ‘I’m still not seeing the relevance here, but whatever. Maybe it was something I ate, or maybe I’ve caught something.’
‘No, it was neither of those things. I felt sick, too, very sick. The longer you were gone the worse I felt. And do you know why?’
‘You missed me?’ I grinned at him.
‘It’s so hard having a serious conversation with you,’ he said.
Then he brushed the hair from his forehead. It was such a normal thing to do that, for a microsecond, I wished for a microsecond he were a normal guy. If he was normal then maybe I could learn to like him—as a friend, that is, a guy friend who just happened to look hot. It couldn’t hurt.
‘Focus, Zoe,’ he said, ‘and listen carefully.’
I breathed deeply and turned my attention back to what he was saying. He seemed to have an uncanny sense of what I was thinking. Not a comfortable idea. I cleared my mind of all thoughts. ‘Go on,’ I said.
‘We both felt sick because of the bond between us. Remember that I said it was like you were on a leash? That’s too simplistic. We’re connected, and our wellbeing depends on that connection. The further apart we get, the worse we feel. If we got too far apart the bond would break, but …’
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t exaggerating about the connection thing. ‘But what?’ I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.
‘The consequences would be dire. It would not be good for either one of us.’
Nope, didn’t like the sound of that at all. ‘What would happen?’
This time it was his turn to shrug. ‘We would both cease to exist.’
I hadn’t expected that answer. I took a moment and then said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I thought it was obvious.’
‘Not to me.’
He rolled his eyes.
‘So, what do we do now?’
‘I have to dematerialise and inhabit you again,’ he said. ‘That was always the plan.’
Maybe it was the plan for him, but not for me. I didn’t like the thought of my soap bubble returning to my body. ‘Is there any other way?’
‘You don’t seriously expect me to stay like this,’ he said.
I looked at him, a six-foot teenage hunk who looked like he should be on a magazine cover. ‘You could do worse,’ I said.
He sighed. ‘Is every teenage girl on the planet so easily swayed by the mere physical looks of the opposite sex?’
Jeez, did that question even need an answer?
‘I can’t stay like this,’ he continued. ‘It would be entirely impractical. Where would I live? How would I live? You do realise I would always have to remain within a radius of 96.378 metres of you or we would both start to feel unwell.’
I could see the implications of what he said. He was right: it was impractical.
‘I have to dematerialise,’ he said, ‘for both our sakes. It won’t be so bad. We’ll get used to each other and maybe, by the time you’re thirty or forty and have matured a little, we might even get to like each other.’
Life with a talking bubble. Forever. But, sadly, the alternative was worse.
‘Okay. I guess you have to do it. So go on, get it over with. Should I close my eyes again?’
‘That’s probably best.’ He put his hands on my arms. ‘Zoe, I know this is hard for you, so thank you.’ He bent towards me and kissed my forehead.
I nearly teared up then. I took one last look at this beautiful alien and said, ‘Goodbye, Rion.’ I closed my eyes. ‘Let’s get on with it, then.’
Chapter Seven
I thought I would feel something when he dematerialised, but I didn’t feel anything except depressed. It was one thing to know Rion, the not-so-bad-looking boy, who, although he had an ego problem and spoke way too much, seemed so real. It was something else entirely to have him right there inside my head—usually telling me what to do. That? Not so good. Still, it seemed the only solution.
I waited for a while, and when I didn’t feel or hear anything I opened my eyes. Rion was still beside me. His eyes were closed and his face was like a death mask, all calm and still.
‘You’re still here,’ I said, stating the obvious.
‘I know. I’m concentrating. Shh.’
I waited and watched. He breathed deeply and stretched out his hands to touch my shoulders. I could feel the touch of his fingers and the warmth of his breath on my forehead. It was so hard to believe he was going to disappear in a few moments.
But he didn’t.
After what seemed ages he dropped his hands and opened his eyes. ‘It isn’t working,’ he said, a puzzled frown wrinkling his brow. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong.’
‘You’ve done this before, right?’
‘Only once before, and I only took human form for a few minutes. I’ve been in this body now for three hours, thirteen minutes and … forty-two, no, forty-three seconds. Perhaps that’s the problem.’ He was looking really worried now. ‘I’ve been an organic for too long.’
‘Maybe it’s something else. Try and remember exactly what you did last time,’ I said, trying to be reassuring.
Rion put his hands on his waist and closed his eyes again. A look of intense concentration cam
e over his face. After a few minutes his breath came out in a gush, as if he’d been holding it, and he opened his eyes.
‘I can’t do it,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I just can’t do it. I can’t revert to my original state.’
I could see he was completely devastated. ‘Maybe you’re tired or something,’ I said. ‘You might have to wait until you’re rested and have all your powers again.’
He shook his head. Moving to the tree, he sank down to the ground and dropped his head into his hands. I wasn’t used to seeing him like this. In the time I’d known him he’d been a smartarse know-it-all who had never doubted his abilities.
I sat down beside him. ‘Just give it time. I’m sure it’ll work.’
He raised his head and there was moisture in his eyes. ‘Don’t you understand? I’ve lost who I was. I gave up my superior form to become a lesser creature, and I did it just to pander to my pride. You set me a challenge and I couldn’t help taking it up. And then I started to show off, basking in the praise of adolescent teenagers as if I was merely a couple of thousand years old instead of the experienced and mature being I’ve become in over four millennia. And for that, I’ve been punished. I heard stories of this happening to one or two of my kind. I thought they were merely legends told to the young as cautionary tales against becoming too involved with our hosts. Now I see that they were true. Now I know it’s dangerous to stay in a physical form for any length of time.’
‘That sucks,’ I said, trying to be sympathetic.
‘That sucks,’ he mimicked, giving me a withering look. ‘What a master of understatement that is. It doesn’t just suck; it’s a catastrophic situation of tragically epic proportions. Here I am, a highly intelligent being, a shining example of my race, forced to exist as a creature that would barely measure on any scale of knowledge or understanding. Your race has hardly made any progress since the first caveman scratched a drawing on a cave wall.’
My sympathy was fast disappearing.
