Starstruck

CHAPTER 16: Conjunction

  The next day at school, I was relieved when Rigel came right up to me before our first class, and even more relieved by his first words.

  "Hey. Sorry about yesterday. I was . . . a little messed up in my head." The warmth of his smile was an even better apology than his words. I forgave him on the spot.

  Still, I had to ask, "So when do I get that explanation you promised?"

  He grinned—it was so good to see that grin again! "Any chance you can stay after school today?"

  I nodded. "I told my aunt I had a project to work on in the media center. But you won't have much time to talk during practice, will you?"

  Rigel lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "I'll manage something. Maybe we can talk some at lunch, too."

  "Okay." I wished now I'd packed a lunch, but if he wanted to go to the courtyard, I'd gladly do without. Dumb, maybe, but true.

  As it turned out, there really wasn't much chance to talk at lunch. Passing the courtyard on my way to the cafeteria, I saw some club was getting pictures taken there, so that was out. Then Bri and Deb actually sat with me for a change, so while I did have lunch with Rigel, we couldn't talk about anything private.

  I made a real effort not to neglect my friends while we all ate, but it was harder than I expected. Every time Rigel spoke, my attention was irresistibly absorbed by him, like he was a gorgeous black hole or something. Even watching him eat was more interesting than the boring school gossip Deb and Bri were sharing, though I pretended otherwise.

  "So, Trina and Bryce are back together," Bri said near the end of the period, with a pointed glance my way.

  "Yeah," Rigel said before I could respond. "They were like this after practice yesterday." He held two fingers together. His tone was completely nonchalant and I didn't think he was faking it for my sake.

  Obviously Bri and Deb noticed, too, since they both gave me what I assumed were supposed to be secret grins, though Rigel was sitting right there and had to see.

  "Oh, I meant to ask," Bri said as we picked up our trays, "can you come to my house after school, M? My mom took me shopping in Kokomo Saturday and I've got a couple of new outfits. You guys can help me decide what goes with them."

  Deb was clearly already on board with the plan, but I had to shake my head. No way was I giving up a chance to get those answers out of Rigel! Not to mention the chance of a little alone time with him, though I knew that was unlikely.

  "I can't, sorry. I've really got to work on that science project I've let slide."

  I half expected one or both of them to guess what I was really doing, but they let it pass without comments, or even knowing looks. I'd tell them later. Maybe. Depending on what happened.

  As soon as the final bell rang, I hurried to my locker, glad I'd actually finished my science project yesterday before my aunt got home, just in case she asked about it later this evening. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Rigel leaning against my locker, looking more like a movie star or a fashion model than a high school student. How could I possibly be this lucky?

  "I'll be quick," I said, throwing the books I didn't need into my locker. "Don't want to make you late for practice."

  "No rush," he said with an impish smile that made my heart speed up even more. "I'm ditching."

  I nearly dropped my history book—which would have hurt if it had hit my foot. "Really?"

  "Sort of. I told Coach I had something really important to do and he let me off, since they're mainly doing tackle drills today."

  "So, um, what are you doing instead?"

  "You mean we, don't you? C'mon." He offered his hand.

  I shut my locker with a snap and took it without question. His touch felt so good, so right, after yesterday's weirdness, I had no choice but to trust him completely.

  He led me out the side entrance and then away from the school, out of sight from the stadium. I didn't see anything but cornfields ahead.

  "I don't suppose you want to tell me where we're going?" I finally asked after we'd crossed a field and were actually threading our way between green rows of corn that reached well above our heads and limited visibility to a few feet in any direction.

  The smile he threw over his shoulder was enigmatic. "Not far. A place we can talk without anyone hearing us, that's all."

  I wanted to start asking questions now, but forced myself to wait. Less than ten minutes later, we emerged into a clearing no more than twenty feet across, with an enormous boulder in the center. Though we were screened by corn on every side, the little clearing was strewn with purple ironweed, goldenrod and other late wildflowers. In a couple of months the corn would all be stubble, the harvest complete, but for now, this spot was as secluded as the heart of a forest.

  "It's beautiful," I said as he led me through the wildflowers to the boulder.

  "I thought you might like it. I found it my first week here, before school started, but haven't had a chance to come back since."

  We sat on the boulder in silence for a few minutes, still holding hands. I could have happily spent the rest of my life doing exactly that, but time was passing and I really wanted to hear whatever he had to tell me.

  "So," I finally said. "You were going to tell me what was going on yesterday?"

  Turning toward me, he took both of my hands in his and met my gaze. When he spoke, I had to concentrate on his words, it was so easy to lose myself in his gorgeous eyes.

  "I really am sorry about that. It wasn't fair to you, especially after . . . well, after Friday night."

  Did he mean all the revelations, or that amazing kiss? I didn't have the nerve to ask.

  "Was it . . . something to do with your grandfather?" I asked instead.

  He nodded. "Him and Allister. They talked a lot about how important you are, how you have this great destiny and everything. Allister, especially, went on and on about the alliances you'd need to form, stuff like that. He seemed kinda pissed that you and I were already friends—implied I'm not what you need, or that you're supposed to . . . I mean . . ."

  I tightened my grip on his hands. "You're exactly what I need, Rigel. Don't you know that by now?"

  "I do," he said. "Now." He leaned in and kissed me gently, incredibly.

  I nearly lost myself in that kiss, but something niggled at my mind. Though it nearly killed me, I forced myself to pull away slightly.

  "Wait. Do you mean they said this stuff about me before last night? Before all those questions and the blood test and everything?"

  He didn't let go of my hands, didn't stop looking into my eyes, so I had to work to focus on his answer. "Yeah. My grandfather, at least, seemed really sure from the start that you were exactly who we'd been looking for. That's why I—and my folks—didn't expect things to be as, well, awkward and difficult as they were last night. Obviously, he was right. But we had no idea Allister and the others would insist on that old ritual for proof."

  "Hey, I can't blame them," I said, keeping my voice light, though the memory of my fear last night made it hard. "I mean, look at me. Not really 'Sovereign' material, am I?"

  He did look at me, so intently it made my insides melt. "Seriously?" he said. "I was wondering how they couldn't tell instantly how special you are. Because it's incredibly obvious to me."

  "It . . . it is?" I asked faintly, wanting to believe but not quite daring.

  "Definitely. I'll admit I may be just a little bit biased, but I knew you were special the first time I saw you," he said, leaning down to nuzzle my earlobe.

  But I wasn't that easy. "That's a load of crap," I told him, which made him snap upright to stare at me. He opened his mouth to protest, but I continued first. "You know darned well that first day in homeroom, you thought it was Trina, not me. She was all over you, and you definitely weren't doing anything to discourage her. You never even looked my way, even though I was sitting right behind you."

  One corner of his mouth turned up. "Okay, you got me. But I did say the first time I saw you. I was feeling those vibe
s—your vibes—and then when Trina came on so strong . . ." He trailed off.

  "And was so pretty, and popular, and sure of herself, and all the stuff you obviously expected me to be?" I supplied.

  "Okay, maybe for like half an hour. But by the time she and I got to Spanish class, I knew I had it wrong—and not just because I wasn't feeling your brath anymore. She's so . . . well, I'd rather not think any Martians are like that."

  I could have supplied a few adjectives for what he left out, but I didn't really need to. Trina just wasn't worth the trouble, she was so completely off my radar now. Now that I had Rigel.

  "So when did you figure out it was me?" I asked instead.

  "In science class, when I heard you speak for the first time. This . . . feeling, kind of a shiver, went through me, and I just knew. What? Why are you laughing?"

  "Because I felt the exact same thing the first time I heard your voice, in homeroom. When you were talking to Trina. Of course, I didn't have any clue what it meant—I just figured I was crushing on the gorgeous new quarterback and kept telling myself how pathetic I was."

  He touched the tip of my chin, tilting my face up to his. "Not pathetic at all," he murmured before he kissed me again.

  That distracted me for several glorious seconds, but the moment he let me think again, I came back to my questions. "Okay, that's when you guessed I was the Martian you were looking for. But what about the . . . graell . . . the bonding thing?"

  "I already told you that, didn't I?" He sounded surprised. "When I first touched you, out by the buses."

  "And it freaked you out."

  "Well, yeah, I was pretty freaked," he admitted. "Weren't you?"

  "Sure, though not for the same reason, obviously. I mostly thought I'd thrown off some extra static charge and scared you away just when you were starting to talk to me." I smiled up at him. "I'm glad I didn't. Scare you away, that is."

  He put an arm around my waist and pulled me closer against his side. "Never."

  "You still haven't really explained why you were avoiding me yesterday," I reminded him. "Or why you don't want your family to know we've, um, bonded." It sounded so serious, like an engagement or something.

  Rigel sighed, though he didn't release his hold on me. "Like I said, Allister and Grandfather were all about your destiny and stuff. My dad had talked about that, too, back when we first found you. I'm not sure you realize yet just how important you are. Not just to me, I mean, but to all the others, here and on Mars."

  "So, um, you didn't want to tell your parents about our graell because people like Allister won't approve? Because I'm the Sovereign?" It still sounded bizarre to say it out loud. "Would it really matter to your parents?"

  Rigel's eyes held a shadow of that sadness I'd seen on Friday. "It might. It might matter to a lot of people."

  I wanted to argue, but instead I just waited. After a moment he explained, haltingly.

  "When I got home after the first day of school and told my parents I'd found you, I also mentioned how much stronger your brath felt than any other Martian I'd met. They said it was probably because you were the first Martian girl my age I'd met. My mom explained that there are different degrees of brath between people, from almost nothing to a strong attraction—like between my parents—to the legendary graell, the bonding at first touch. My dad kind of laughed then, and made some comment about how much it would mess things up if that happened."

  "Mess things up?" I repeated, not liking the sound of that.

  He nodded. "That's why that first jolt freaked me so much. I told my parents about it—I kind of had to, when I refused to go to school the next day." He looked sheepish so I squeezed his hand. "I was worried it was the graell but they insisted it was impossible. That even if it used to happen hundreds of years ago, there hadn't been a documented case in generations. They said that even a gradual bond like theirs only happens to about one couple in a thousand, and never forms until they're in their twenties or even thirties. Sometimes older."

  Though I nodded, I didn't interrupt. I couldn't—I was holding my breath.

  "But they said it's not uncommon for teenage boys and girls—Martian ones, that is—to have a strong pull toward each other, and sometimes even a quick jolt when they very first touch. That it's sort of a way of checking each other out, genetically. It's why they—and my grandfather—thought I'd have the best chance of finding you. Anyway, after their explanation, I felt pretty stupid. So stupid I tried to avoid you the next day."

  My earlier relief ebbed. "Then what makes you think—"

  "Let me finish. Instead of going away, like the temporary teenage thing they described, this thing we have seems to be getting stronger and stronger."

  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.