Starstruck (28 page)

I certainly couldn’t deny that. It felt that way to me, too.

“Plus, while the more common resonance all Martians have might explain some things on your side, like your eyesight improving, it doesn’t explain how I’ve changed. I mean, I’ve been around other Martians—my parents, at least—my whole life.”

Though I loved the feel of him caressing my face, it was distracting and I really needed to think, so I put my hand over his, stopping him for a moment. “Changed? How have you changed? You mean playing football better?”

“That’s just a symptom,” he said. “A side effect. I’ve been testing myself. I’m stronger, faster, my reflexes are better, and sometimes it’s like I know what someone is going to do—or even say—before it happens.”

That last bit was a little disconcerting. “You mean you
can
read minds?”

“No, not minds,” he said to my relief. “It’s more like a
deja vu
thing in reverse, or an extra sense. It just gives me a split second to prepare, to react faster, or better.”

I could definitely see how that might help on the football field. And maybe in the classroom, too.

“And then there was that lightning thing we did after practice last week, which nothing else could possibly explain. What we have between us
is
different, M. It’s not like my parents think. It’s special.
Really
special.”

The relief I felt at his words was so intense that I realized I’d been trying to play it all down in my mind, to not hope too much, no matter how desperately I wanted to.

Rigel let go of one of my hands, but only so he could run the tip of one finger along the curve of my cheek. It made me
feel
special. Cherished. “Don’t you think it’s special?”

“Well, of course,” I said, not trying to hide my smile. “But then I would, wouldn’t I? Still,” I mused, thinking back, “other Martians have touched me—your mom, your grandfather, a couple of the others last night. And I do feel a little something, different from when a regular person like Bri or my aunt touches me, but nothing even close to what happens when you do.” I pressed his hand closer to my face.

“See? That’s what I mean. The difference between everyday
brath
and the bond we have.”

He leaned in for another kiss and this time I didn’t pull away. I kept thinking I’d get used to the effect he had on me, but it seemed like every time he touched me and, even more, every time he kissed me, it was more intense. More overwhelming. More . . . wonderful.

Finally, we separated with a mutual sigh and I leaned my head on his shoulder. I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy in my life.

“So, does this make us . . . official?” I felt shy as I asked it, even as comfortable as I was with him.

“Official?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Like officially dating, you mean? I guess so—at school, anyway. Um, unless you don’t want us to be?” I felt the hint of tension in him as he asked, and I giggled.

“Oh, right, like I wouldn’t want everybody to know I’m dating the quarterback, the hottest guy in the whole school? You’re kidding, right?”

He shrugged under my cheek. “It might make things a little awkward with your friends. And your aunt.”

I pondered that for a moment. “Bri and Deb have already figured it out. As for Aunt Theresa . . . I don’t think she needs to know
quite
yet.” I sat up so I could look at him. “If that’s okay?”

“That’s fine. Especially since I’d rather not tell my folks either, just yet.”

“Because they won’t approve.”

I felt him tense again and it worried me. “
They
might. But my grandfather, well . . . When my dad mentioned how close we’re getting, he suggested we play it down around the others last night, especially Allister. And he warned me not to get too . . . invested, I think was his word. That we didn’t know yet what sacrifices might have to be made. I didn’t have the nerve to tell him I was already fully invested.” He made it sound like an apology.

Reassured about his feelings and intentions, I tried to make him feel better. “Hey, your grandfather’s a pretty intimidating guy. I don’t blame you for that.”

He gave me a little squeeze. “You don’t know the half of it, believe me. I’m pretty sure he’s the oldest Martian on Earth—my dad is his youngest son—and he’s been kind of the unofficial leader of all the expats here for over a century. When I was little, he terrified me—even before I knew anything about Mars. Not that he was ever mean or anything,” he hastened to add.

“No, I totally get it,” I said, remembering my own first impression. “He’s not the kind of man anyone says no to, is he?”

Rigel shook his head. “No one ever has, as far as I know. But Allister did argue with him a lot after you left, still wanting to hide you away somewhere. Not everyone agreed that you were better off here in Jewel.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but I just asked, “So, what is that Royal representative thing, anyway? Is it like a political party?”

“I think so. Like I said, I’m not much on Martian politics, but I do know there are—or were—two political groups in the government, the Royalists and the Progressives, kind of like conservatives and liberals. This Allister guy is the ranking Royalist here on Earth, like their spokesman or something, and he’s got Royal blood, too, I think. He was even more about your destiny and the good of the people and stuff than my grandfather was.”

“But I don’t have to do anything right away, right?” I was starting to get nervous again, despite Rigel’s touch.

“No, Grandfather finally convinced them to leave you alone for now, that there’s no immediate danger. Even if there was, nobody is in a better position than I am to make sure you’re safe. And definitely nobody is more motivated. So no matter what anyone says, I’m sticking close to you.”

Warmth flooded me, as much from the look that accompanied his words as the words themselves. “I’m glad,” was all I had time to say before he was kissing me again, and then nothing else in the world, nothing the future might hold, mattered at all.

CHAPTER 17

Event horizon

Though I would have been happy to spend the rest of the day in our private clearing in the cornfield, Rigel eventually reminded me that we needed to get back to the school if we were going to catch the late buses. Still holding hands, we made our way back single file through the narrow rows of corn, then through the school to the waiting buses. Before I got on my bus, Rigel kissed me one last time—in full view of God and everybody.

As long as he was touching me I couldn’t feel embarrassed, but when I got on the bus and saw all the stunned expressions, I felt myself flushing—especially when I realized I had bits of corn silk in my hair. I had to fight the urge to explain, to announce to the whole bus that all we’d done was kiss. Of course, that would only make the gossip worse. Besides, even though it was true, it
felt
like more because everything with Rigel was so . . .
intense
.

Remembering that, my embarrassment faded and I was able to sink back into the happy glow my afternoon with him had created. Who cared what all these kids thought, anyway? I was a princess and Rigel . . . he was my prince, in every way that mattered.

That glow carried me through the rest of that week and all of the next. At school, Rigel and I were nearly inseparable, spending as much time as possible together between classes and at lunch. He sat next to me in English and convinced our History teacher to let him move next to me there, too, so we could work together on our midterm project. I prepared a series of excuses to stay after school, so even though Rigel couldn’t skip football practice again, at least I could be nearby in the stands.

When the gossip made its inevitable rounds after our “tryst” in the cornfield, Bri dropped the last of her resentment to pump me for information, her bruised feelings no match for her thirst for romantic details.

“C’mon,” she pleaded on the way to school a couple of days later—for the fourth or fifth time. “You
have
to tell me what really happened Tuesday.”

“How many times do I have to say it before you’ll believe me?” I whispered. “We kissed. And talked. That’s it.”

“Yeah, but there’s kissing . . . and then there’s kissing,” she whispered back. “How serious
was
this makeout session? On a scale of one to ten?”

I had to laugh, even though I was getting pretty irritated by now. But since I could never share my
real
secret with her, I gave in on this one.

“Okay, it was pretty serious, about as serious as I can imagine without going past kissing. Which we didn’t. But wow, can Rigel ever kiss!”

If that hadn’t been enough to earn Bri’s forgiveness, the football players stopping by our lunch table on a regular basis definitely did the trick. Soon, she and Deb were on a flirting basis with half the team, which made them happy, which made me happy. Especially since it meant I could spend more time focused on Rigel without them feeling left out.

We decisively beat Alexandria at the home game Friday, and even though I wasn’t allowed to go to the after party, Bri and Deb got invitations from some of the players, so all was well. I hoped. I couldn’t help worrying just a little that this sudden popularity might cloud their judgment about boys and whatever went on at those parties.

Saturday, after chores and taekwondo, I offered to run some errands in town for my aunt and “accidentally” ran into Rigel at Dream Cream, on Diamond. We spent a blissful couple of hours eating ice cream, hanging out in Jewel’s pretty little arboretum, talking, and pretending to window shop. I even remembered to pick up Aunt Theresa’s quilting paper before walking home. Sunday we only saw each other at church, but that was still much better than nothing.

During our occasional opportunities to talk privately, like on Saturday, I found out more bits and pieces about my heritage and about the other
Echtrans
, or Martian expatriates, on Earth. The Stuarts and I were the only ones in Jewel, but there were a few more in Indianapolis, and whole settlements scattered here and there around the world. Since the colonists tended to have Northern European coloring—it was believed the original “abduction” had been from Ireland or Scotland—most of the settlements were in North America and other English-speaking areas. The two largest settlements were in Montana and in Ireland, where there was a whole Martian village. I hoped I’d get a chance to visit it someday.

Spending time with Rigel every single day was addictive. Far from desensitizing me to the zing between us, our resonance seemed to get stronger and stronger the more we were together—and I didn’t mind a bit. He didn’t seem to mind either.

One thing did keep nagging at me, though.

“So . . . you still haven’t told your parents we’re dating?” I asked him as we walked to the buses after school on Friday. We’d now been “official” for two weeks—at school, anyway. I tried to keep my voice offhand, but he wasn’t fooled.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asked, stopping in mid-stride to look down at me in concern. “I just . . . don’t want to take any chances with what we have going.”

“But they like me, don’t they? Do you really think they’d be upset?”

“Of course they like you!” he assured me with a squeeze of my hand. “Duh. It’s not that.”

He dropped his voice to a whisper that no one else could hear. My hearing had improved noticeably over the past week or two, which made talking privately, even in crowds, much easier.

“It’s not so much my parents as the
Echtran
Council, who might put pressure on them. I figure if they don’t know about us, they won’t make rules I might not want to follow.” He grinned as he said it, and even winked, but I could tell he was serious.

“I get that, I do. But I really don’t like hiding this from your parents, after they’ve been so nice to me and all.” I hated the thought of them being disappointed in me, once they found out we’d been keeping secrets.

He still tried to cling to his humor. “But it’s okay to hide it from your aunt and uncle?”

“That’s different. They don’t know
any
of the truth, and I can’t tell them. This is just one more thing. Plus, I know what my aunt would say.”

Rigel took my hand and tugged me along toward the buses. “Yeah, ‘He’s only after one thing,’ right?”

“Pretty much.” It still made me blush—partly because I wouldn’t really mind if Rigel
was
after what my aunt suspected. But he’d been a perfect gentleman, apart from some amazing kissing.

“Okay,” he said as we reached the crowd boarding the buses. “Sometime this weekend, I’ll tell them. I promise. I just hope we won’t be sorry.”

I dropped his hand to hug him. “Thank you. I’ll see you at the game tonight.”

Like he always did these days, he kissed me goodbye. I no longer minded that half the school saw it. In fact, I secretly reveled in it. “Till tonight,” he said.

Bri gave an exaggerated sigh as I sat down next to her. “You must be the luckiest girl in the world.”

I couldn’t disagree.

At halftime that night, I looked around at the crowd surrounding Bri, Deb and me and couldn’t help marveling at the difference a few weeks made. We were now part of the “in” crowd—JV football players, JV cheerleaders, a few student government types and an assortment of other cool people.