Starstruck

Chapter 9a: Eccentricities (part 1)

CHAPTER 9

Eccentricities (part 1)

Rigel pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. "Oops, lunch is more than half over. We'd better eat." He handed me my paper sack, which I'd totally forgotten.

I pulled out my sandwich and opened my drink, but then set them both down, suddenly reminded of yesterday when he'd handed me my lunch, and the question he hadn't answered.

"You never did tell me why you wanted me at football practice. Or how you, um, zapped Bryce." Or a thousand other things I suddenly wanted to know.

He took a big bite out of his own sandwich, chewed and swallowed before answering. "When you're with me . . . near me . . . you, well, bring out the best in me."

"Huh?" That was totally not what I was expecting. I wasn't even sure it made sense.

"Eat. I'll try to explain, at least a little."

Since he stopped and waited and I really wanted to hear more, I quickly took a bite of sandwich and a swig of juice. "Well?" I asked, then took another bite so he had no excuse not to go on.

"Okay. I know you've noticed that, er, thing when we touch."

To demonstrate, he touched my hand briefly and I felt the now-familiar tingle zip through me. I nodded.

"It's like we have a special, um, resonance. Something in you sort of supercharges something in me. Makes me . . . better. Stronger. Faster."

"And able to shoot lightning bolts?"

He took another bite before answering and this time I was sure it was to give him time to think. "That wasn't just me, you know," he finally said. "There's this thing called graell. It's really rare. In fact, most people don't even believe in it any more. But the theory is, or was, that sometimes a person can be a kind of, well, match with another person. And when they are, they somehow . . . enhance each other."

I stared at him, things clicking together in my brain. "Each other? So it works both ways?"

He nodded, but I thought he looked wary. "At least, that's the theory--or legend."

"Holy crap," I breathed. "So that's why I'm suddenly not nearsighted anymore? And--" I stopped talking but kept thinking. And why my acne had miraculously disappeared? And I was so much better at taekwondo? Starting right after he'd touched me the very first time. My crazy suspicion had been right!

"I think so. I know I run faster and throw harder than I used to--especially when you're actually in the stadium."

That certainly explained why he wanted me at football practice . . . and at the games. Shoot, if the coaches knew about this, they'd probably require me to be there! The thought almost made me giggle.

Suddenly, I was giddy with relief. Rigel wasn't crazy. At least, not about this mutual enhancement thing. I should probably reserve judgment on the Mars stuff, but now I couldn't quite dismiss that, either--not when this almost-as-unlikely story was obviously true.

He was still watching me expectantly--anxiously--and I realized he was waiting for my reaction to all of this. I smiled, though I felt more like singing.

"I believe you."

The words seemed inadequate, but apparently they were enough. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"Thank you. I was afraid you'd . . . well, never mind. So, any chance you can make it to practice today?" he asked with a grin, obviously trying to lighten things up a little. "If you're going to come to the game Friday, I need to practice throwing with you in the stadium."

I hadn't thought of it that way, but it made sense. "Is that why the receivers had such a hard time catching your passes during the first game?"

"Yeah, I think so. I . . . didn't realize how hard I was throwing until later."

"Of course, it probably didn't help that our receivers all basically suck."

He laughed. "Maybe, but I did make it worse."

The bell rang, startling me. Quickly, I stuffed another couple of bites of sandwich into my mouth while Rigel did the same, then we stood. The rain had stopped and the sun was starting to peek between gaps in the clouds, making the wet courtyard sparkle. It seemed almost magical--or maybe that was just the way I was feeling right now.

"All right. I'll come to practice today. I'll worry about my aunt later."

Rigel put a hand on my back as we went back into the hallway. It made me feel . . . protected. Cared for. I liked it.

"I don't want you to get in any trouble because of me," he said.

Though it would have been way cool to wear it to class, I shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him. "It's not like she actually said I couldn't go. She just lectured me a little--about what boys like you expect from girls like me." I slanted a teasing glance up at him. What had gotten into me, that I was suddenly so comfortable, so brave, around him?

He laughed out loud, a delicious sound. "Boys like me? You can tell her I don't expect anything at all. Though--" He went suddenly serious-- "I may hope, a little."

I discovered I wasn't quite brave enough to ask what he hoped, though the intensity in his eyes gave me a clue. My heart started beating faster.

"I, um, don't think I'll tell her that part." My voice sounded breathless to my own ears.

"No, better not. We don't want her forbidding you to see me." He slung the jacket over his shoulder. "Do we?"

"Definitely not."

Already we were at our History classroom, though I barely remembered walking there. I felt like I could have gone on talking with Rigel--being with Rigel--forever. It was like a little exile to leave him, even to go to the opposite side of the room. My only comfort was that he looked like he hated the separation as much as I did.

"Looks like you guys didn't fight over lunch today," Bri teased me when I reached my seat. "Man, can you two even tell the rest of the world exists when you look at each other like that?"

With an effort, I made myself focus on her, and on her words. "What? I mean, um, no, we didn't fight. And . . . no. At least, I can't."

"Trust me," Deb said with a laugh, "he's not noticing anything else either. So, has he asked you out yet?"

"No. But can I use one of you guys' cell phones to call home after school? And if my aunt asks, can you tell her I was at your house, Bri?"

They exchanged such significant glances that I felt myself blushing.

"It's not like that!" I whispered fiercely. "He just wants me to come to practice again, and my aunt thinks that's the path to sin or something."

"Are you sure it's not?" Bri mouthed at me, then giggled. A sharp look from the teacher shut her up, but a minute later she passed me a note.

"I'm in," it read. "Talk to you after."

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