Starcrossed (29 page)

The O’Garas’ obvious struggles to hide their horror at my aunt’s words might have been amusing if I hadn’t had a headache. Aunt Theresa was clearly scrounging now to find extra jobs for me around the house. Would she unground me if she ran out of ideas?
 

Not that it would matter, if Rigel never came back.

I went to the O’Garas’ again that night and this time Allister
was
there. He spent the first hour shoving facts down my throat and the second hour making me regurgitate them.

“Show me the proper response of the Sovereign to the traditional salute by the people.” He demonstrated that salute as he spoke, bowing with right fist over heart.

I inclined my head to the precise degree he’d drilled me on, my chin tilting down until I could just barely feel tension at the front of my throat. “It is my benevolent duty to guide my people into our best future.”
 

“Better. Now, in Nuathan.”

I did my best, but my Nuathan was a long way from coming naturally yet.
“Is a mo dulgas cumann chun treoir a thabert istich inner nadaoine is fearr sa todhchaí?”
 

“Dhualgis,”
he corrected me. “And
thabhairt isteach inár.
Again.”

With a tiny sigh, I said the words again, trying to get the pronunciation right.
 

He nodded, though he didn’t look completely happy. “For a first lesson, I suppose that will do. Say it with authority, mind you, not as a question. You must instill confidence. Now, what are the two primary cities on Mars?”

“Thiaraway and Monaru.”
 

“How many villages?”
 

“Eighteen. There were twenty-three, but five have been evacuated to conserve power. Which is why orderly emigration to Earth over the next century is essential,” I added, though he hadn’t asked. It was getting late and I was tired and achy and just wanted to get this over with.

He regarded me suspiciously with his little gray eyes, then gave a small shrug. “Very well. That will do for tonight, Excellency, but we have scarcely scratched the surface of all you must know. Please do not grow complacent.”

I nearly snorted. “I’m not,” I assured him. “Not even a little.”

The weather was still undecided between freezing rain and sleet. Mr. O’Gara drove me the short distance home, since Allister wouldn’t let Sean use his omni to keep us warm and dry for the walk.
 

“Please thank your aunt and uncle again for inviting us to Thanksgiving dinner,” Mr. O said when I got out of the car. “We’re all very much looking forward to it.”
 

“I will. Um, me too.” I knew I wasn’t convincing but didn’t much care.
 

I dragged myself up the porch stairs and into the house, every step an effort. Allister had given me a Martian “book”—one of those scroll thingies loaded up with a gazillion texts on Martian history, government, laws, sociology, you name it. I needed to get started on it, but all I wanted to do was sleep.
 

In fact, I wished I could sleep away the next seven days and not wake up until Rigel was back. Since that wasn’t an option between school, Thanksgiving, and Aunt Theresa’s increasingly imaginative chore list, it was going to be a long, long week.

tinneas
(TIN-es):
physical illness, rare among Martians except in the very elderly

I could swear my alarm went off only seconds after I turned out my light, but according to my clock, I’d slept more than nine hours and it was time to get ready for school. Despite all that sleep, I felt even worse than when I went to bed.

“What’s wrong?” Molly asked when I reached the bus stop.
 

“Not feeling great. I told you this happens when Rigel and I can’t be together.”

She bit her lip, looking distressed. “Already? But you just saw him Friday.”

I just shrugged, not feeling up to explaining that it seemed to take less and less time apart before symptoms started, the stronger our bond became.

Sean wasn’t on the bus. Probably getting a ride with a friend. I was vaguely disappointed, only because seeing me like this might finally make him believe in the
graell.
No biggie. He’d have plenty of other chances to be convinced this week.
 

Normally I hurried to Geometry but today there was no point. Still, my steps quickened as I got close and experienced an irrational hope that Rigel might be there after all.
 

He wasn’t.

Ms. Harrigan was, smiling at me as soon as I came in. Since she was one of the ones who wanted Rigel out of the picture, I didn’t smile back.

I felt steadily worse as the day wore on, finding it hard to focus on anything but my desire to see Rigel again. I went through the day on automatic, nodding and answering questions when necessary. No one but Molly asked if I was okay, so I must not have looked as bad as I felt.

I hadn’t heard from Rigel at all since he left, not that I’d expected to. I’d checked my e-mail every chance I got but after my initial disappointment, I realized he was probably being watched even more closely than I was.
 

Still, I decided on the bus ride home, what did I have to lose by trying his cell phone? They couldn’t punish us much worse and I just might die if I couldn’t at least hear his voice soon. I punched in his number the moment I got home, renewed hope making my heart beat faster than it had all day.
 

My hope started to drain away when it rang twice, three times, four. Then Rigel answered!
 

“M?” he whispered. “I’ve had my phone on vibrate, in case you were able to call. Had to get away from everyone before I could answer. How are you doing?”

I almost blurted out the truth, but realized that would upset him. “Better, now that I can hear your voice.” Which
was
true.

“Me, too.” I suspected he was editing as much as I was. “I can probably only talk a minute or two.”

I was just about to pour out my feelings to him when he asked, “What’s going on in Jewel?”

“I guess you’ve heard what’s happening on Mars?”

“Yeah, it’s all anyone’s talking about here. Are they . . . putting more pressure on you?”

“Guess you could say that. Allister’s trying to cram as much info into me as fast as he can and the O’Garas are all excited they’ll get to go back soon. But no matter what they say, I’m not going with them, so don’t worry.”

“I’ll try. M, I’m so sorry I talked you out of running away. I really wish we had.”

My heart caught at the longing in his voice. “Oh, me, too, Rigel! So much. When you get home, I promise we’ll figure some way—”

I broke off at the sound of another voice at his end, his dad’s, asking what Rigel was doing. Then Mr. Stuart said into the phone, “I’m sorry, M. I know this is difficult for both of you, but please don’t try calling Rigel again. I’ll be keeping his phone with me for the rest of our stay here.”

“Wait!” I cried. “At least let me tell him—” But the line was dead.
 

I let out a scream that the neighbors could probably hear as it echoed through the empty house.
Why
hadn’t I told him I loved him, very first thing? Or talked about some other way to communicate? Now I’d gotten him in trouble and it would be even more impossible.
 

Furious at myself as well as at everyone trying to pull my strings, I stomped upstairs, pulled out that Martian e-book thing and snapped it open, determined to find
something
I could use to my—and Rigel’s—advantage. I clicked to the index, searching for anything about the authority of underage Sovereigns.

All too soon, though, my anger-fueled energy started to ebb and the words began running together. With a sigh that was equal parts frustration and exhaustion, I shut off the book and dragged myself back downstairs to tackle my afternoon chores.

Tuesday mostly went by in a blur, other than the pinch of disappointment I still felt in every class that should have had Rigel in it.

“Honestly, M, snap out of it,” Bri said at one point. “I’ve asked you like six times whether you’re coming to the game tomorrow night, and you give a different answer every time.”

I blinked rapidly to bring her face into focus. “What?”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Are you coming to the game tomorrow or not? Matt’s driving me, and he needs to know whether to pick you up.”

“Oh. Probably not. If so, I’ll probably ride with the O’Garas again.”

“
Thank
you,” she said with a little huff. “All I needed to know. I’ll tell Matt.”

It wasn’t until much later that I realized the main point of her asking was so I’d ask about her and Matt, since this would be their first real date. Oh, well.

At lunch I was vaguely aware of Sean and Molly watching me with concern as I sat there with nothing but a juice box, staring into space. Maybe it should have surprised me that neither of them said anything to me. But to the extent I could think at all, it was about what Rigel might be doing in Washington at that moment and what a relief it would be when he got back.

Aunt Theresa had me doing even more extra cleaning stuff at home to get ready for Thanksgiving, since the O’Garas were coming over. She even dug out her mother’s—probably her grandmother’s—silver that I’d seen maybe twice in my life and made me polish it.
 

At least it was mindless, so I could stay busy without having to think or deal with awkward questions from my aunt about my absent-mindedness. As we sat down to dinner, I was already looking forward to bedtime, when I could at least dream about Rigel. Then Aunt Theresa said the O’Garas were expecting me again tonight.

What with Sean’s game tomorrow and Thanksgiving the day after, I hadn’t expected that. “I’d really rather not. I’m not feeling all that well. Can’t I just go to bed early?” I looked hard at her, trying to use whatever persuasion powers I might have, though they were probably as weak as everything else about me right now.

To my surprise, my aunt regarded me uncertainly for a long moment. “Well, I suppose if you— Oops! Louie, be careful!” she exclaimed as my uncle spilled some gravy on the table.
 

She turned back to me, her concentration broken. “I already told Lili you’d go, Marsha. Molly is getting a bit anxious about the exams coming up. If you’re tired, you don’t need to stay long.”

Arguing was too much effort so I just nodded, then played with my food until Aunt Theresa and Uncle Louie were done and I could wash the dishes. I was halfway to the O’Garas’ when I realized I should have suggested that maybe I had something contagious, in which case my aunt wouldn’t want me to go over and give it to them. I’d use that excuse later, if I needed to.
 

If I could still think at all by then.

Mrs. O’Gara opened the door instead of Sean this time, then carefully ushered me inside like I was made of glass. “Molly told us you weren’t feeling well, dear,” she said, leading me to the cushiest chair in their living room. “No lessons tonight, I think—I’ve suggested Allister stay away. I’ll bring you some tea and biscuits and you can just relax a bit, eh?”

Molly sat in the chair next to me as her mother bustled off to the kitchen. “What’s wrong, exactly?” She seemed genuinely curious. “Are you sick to your stomach, or what?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, “and it’s getting worse. The headache started Sunday. And now I’m getting really . . . fuzzy. More than I remember from the last time.”

She frowned at me for a long moment. “You mean the time you told us about, when you and Rigel pretended to break up for a few weeks?” I nodded. “But how can it be
worse
already? I mean, it’s just been three or four days.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know exactly how it works. The other time we were in classes together, even if we weren’t talking or touching. Maybe that’s the difference. Or— Oh, hi, Sean,” I broke off as he came in with a plate of cookies.

“Hullo, M. Moll said you weren’t feeing quite the thing, and I could see at school you were a bit out of it.” He set the cookies on the coffee table and sat on the couch across from us. The cookies were pretty, with pink and white frosting and sugar sprinkles, but didn’t tempt me at all.

“Did she tell you
why
I’m not feeling well?” I made myself ask.

He gave a sort of half shrug. “I figure it’s probably that bug that was going around last week. Half of my calculus class had it.”

“Sean.” Molly’s tone was chiding. “You know we—
Echtrans,
I mean—don’t get sick. M wouldn’t catch some Earth virus.”

“Yeah, well, she’s lived separate from other
Echtrans
most of her life. That probably screwed up her immune system. You’ve been sick before, haven’t you, M?” His expression was almost pleading.

I answered truthfully. “I had a sore throat once, when I was six. And a tummy ache once or twice from too much Halloween candy. Other than that, um, no. Not even a cold. Except back in September, and I already told Molly about that.”

Clearly, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Yeah, I know what you’ve
convinced
yourself is going on, but I don’t buy it. I told you about Penny—”

“The girl who got tricked into thinking she had the
graell
with some guy, yeah. But I’m
not
imagining my bond with Rigel.” I winced. “Or this headache.” All this talking was making my temples throb.

“Look, I didn’t mean—“ he began, looking genuinely concerned, but his mother came in with the tea tray before he could finish.

“Here we are, then.” She set down the tray and poured out three cups of tea. “This will make you feel more the thing, dear,” she said, handing me my cup. “Everyone has an off day now and then, after all.”

So she was in denial, too.
 

“Thanks, but the only thing that’ll make me feel better is Rigel coming back. Sorry.”

She drew back a bit, frowning. “Now, dear, there’s no need to let your imagination run away with you. I’m sure you miss the Stuart lad, it’s only natural, but it hardly seems fair to blame him for how you’re feeling tonight.”