Starstruck

Chapter 10a: Extraterrestrial origin (part 1)

CHAPTER 10

Extraterrestrial origin (part 1)

Bri and Deb were less talkative than usual the next day but I didn't really notice until lunchtime. I was too excited about what new revelations Rigel--and his parents?--might have in store for me that afternoon.

When Rigel and I got to the cafeteria after Science class, I automatically headed toward our usual table, where my friends were already sitting. But just as I got there, they started picking up their trays like they were going to leave. Again.

"Wait," I said. "Where are you guys going?"

Not that I didn't want the time alone with Rigel, but I felt like I should say something.

"We, um, have stuff to do," Bri said without looking at me.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. "About the game?" I was still feeling a little guilty about that.

She shook her head. "No, no, it's fine. No biggie." But she still didn't quite meet my eye. Deb sent me a quick, apologetic glance, but didn't say anything.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Deb and I just need to do some more chorus stuff. See you tonight."

And then they were gone.

Rigel frowned after them. "You, um, didn't say anything to them, did you? About the, ah, stuff we talked about yesterday?"

"Of course not!" I was hurt he would even suspect it. "They probably still think we want to be alone." I hoped that was all it was. I had been ignoring them a lot lately.

"Don't we?" he asked with a smile that made me forget all about my friends again.

I nodded shyly. "I guess maybe we do."

"Sit down," he said then. "If they're feeling left out, you can make it up to them later. So, your aunt and uncle are okay with you coming home on my bus today?"

It was the second time he'd asked me that today. I almost asked him if he was sure he couldn't read my mind, but stopped myself in time. "My aunt did make me promise to come straight home after the game," I said by way of a partial confession.

"She still doesn't trust my motives?" He was grinning now.

"Well . . ." I half-shrugged. "It's not like she really knows you. And you are the first boy who's ever--I mean, um, this is kind of new territory for her."

He did not need to know that no boy had ever shown even the remotest interest in me before. Pathetic was not how I wanted him to think of me. I wanted him to see me as fun and interesting and pretty and . . . desirable. All the things I'd never been. But somehow, with Rigel, they seemed almost possible.

"We'll just have to win her over," he said, "since I don't plan on going away anytime soon."

His words sent a delicious thrill through me, but I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound sappy, so I took a bite of my pizza.

"Eat all of it," he said when I set it back down. "I've noticed you don't eat very much--at least, when you're around me. You'll need your strength today."

I nearly choked. "Wh-- What? Why?" I sputtered as soon as I could.

He laughed and handed me a napkin. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's just . . . it's going to be a long day, what with an away game and all."

But I could tell that wasn't what he'd originally meant. "Your parents do know I'm coming over, don't they?"

"Definitely," he assured me. "They're really looking forward to it."

He clearly meant it, which confused me, especially since he'd asked me not to tell them about our graell thing. I'd figured even if they didn't freak, they probably wouldn't approve. Besides, Rigel must have always had girls--better looking, more popular girls than me--flocking around him. Why would his parents care about getting to know me better?

Speaking of good looking, popular girls, I quickly realized that a real, private conversation here in the cafeteria was impossible. Every single cheerleader, plus what seemed like half the other girls in school, stopped by our table over the next twenty minutes to tell Rigel how much they were looking forward to tonight's game and to wish him luck. A few guys came by, too, to slap him on the back and talk football.

I might as well have been invisible to most of the girls, though a few gave me quick, perky smiles. But to my surprise, a couple of the guys made a point of saying hi to me and even tried to include me in the conversation. When Pete Warner left after a brief discussion of offensive strategies, Rigel frowned after him.

"What?" I said.

"Didn't you notice the way he was looking at you?"

I shook my head. When Rigel was around, I honestly couldn't seem to notice much of anyone else. No wonder my friends were getting pissed at me.

Rigel looked into my eyes for a long moment, then shrugged. "Then I guess it doesn't matter, does it?" he said with a sudden grin.

"No," I admitted, still drinking in his eyes, his amazing face. I never seemed to get enough of that. "It really doesn't."

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