Starfall: A Starstruck Novel (24 page)

Her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line, like she’s pissed. At me? “Not necessarily. Not if they specifically blocked them. I knew they’d done that with the ones about the…the big secret, but they must also have blocked your memories about
us
. Our bond. I’d hoped maybe they didn’t have time, but…”

“What do you mean, blocked? Blocked how?”

“I don’t completely understand the process, but apparently they can…can bury certain memories deeper than others, overlay them with other memories, even fake ones. In your case, they chose memories they considered safe, then stuck those on top of the ones they especially
didn’t
want you to get back.”

My head is starting to spin. “Wait. So you mean these…these flashes I keep getting are things they
put
there? So I
would
remember them? Why? And who the heck are “they,” anyway? Who did this to me?”

“People who claimed—maybe even believed—they were acting for the good of Nuath. Only one is in Jewel now, and I’m not sure I…” M bites her lip. I try to ignore the effect that has on me, stay focused on her words instead.

“Someone here in Jewel? Who? Someone I know?”

“Sort of.” I can see she’s really struggling over whether to tell me. Because of who it is? Or because of what she thinks it could do to my brain or something?

“Look,” I say, “if there’s somebody right here in Jewel who’s got it in for me, shouldn’t I know who?”

She gives a little sigh. Which I tell myself is
not
sexy at all. “Okay. Sean’s father.”

“Whoa. Seriously?” And all this time I thought Sean was my friend! “So Sean—?”

“Sean didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“But he knows? That it was his dad?”

M nods. “He and Molly were really upset when I told them. Even though he’s their dad, they both thought what he did was terrible. Mr. O’Gara realizes it now, too, and has apologized like a hundred times. Of course, that was after I found out and went ballistic on him and the others.” She looks pissed just remembering it.
 

“Anyway, you don’t have to worry he’ll do anything else to you now. And it was Sean who helped me figure out how to keep you safe until I could get back to Jewel. To you. I’ve…really missed you, Rigel.”
 

The look in her eyes twists at my heart, making me feel something I have absolutely no business feeling. “I, uh… Thanks? I wish I could say the same, but—”

“But you can’t miss someone you don’t even remember knowing.”
 

She sounds sad again, making me want to comfort her. But I don’t dare.
 

Instead, I check my cell phone for the time and jump up. “Wow, we’ve been here longer than I realized. I should get home and you probably should too, huh?”
 

“Oh. I guess so.” She stands more slowly, looking like she wants to say more. But I’m afraid it might be something I’d be better off not hearing.

“Hey, thanks for filling me in about that guy last night and…and everything else. And don’t worry, I won’t say anything to Sean about his dad, since it sounds like he feels bad enough about it already.”
 

I also don’t plan to tell Sean about this hour in the arboretum. In fact, I don’t plan to tell anybody. Because much as I want to remember everything, what I want even more is to spend more time with M. And that’s dangerous on a whole different level.

The arboretum looks a lot different covered with snow. I look around at the gardens, buried under a blanket of white. The gravel walks have been shoveled or swept, so they’re walkable, barely. I’m alone, but keep looking eagerly toward the arched entrance, waiting…

I feel her even before I hear her—my M! A moment later she rushes into the arboretum, her taekwondo bag swinging at her side. Even sweaty and flushed, she looks like heaven. As soon as we’re out of sight from the street, her duffel hits the ground with a thud and we’re in each other’s arms, kissing like there’s no tomorrow. It’s been way too long!

Strength and well-being flow into me from her touch and I know she feels the exact same thing. I slide my hands inside her coat, rub them up and down her back, pull her closer. She runs her fingers through my hair, doing her part to mesh us into one.
 

“Mmm. I will never get tired of this,” I whisper against her mouth when we come up for air. “I’ve missed you so much, M.”

She answers silently, since we’re already kissing again, that this is the only thing that really makes her feel right. Whole.

I totally agree, even if I can’t form whole sentences in my head right now. She pulls my body so tight against hers I feel like I might explode. I let my hands drift lower and she doesn’t stop me. If only—

A loud voice right by my ear shatters the mood. I lurch away from M, drawing back my fist to deck the intruder…then groggily realize it’s my alarm clock, with some obnoxious car commercial on the radio. I smack the off button so hard the whole clock flies off my nightstand and crashes to the floor. Serves it right.

My pulse is still pounding. Not only from the shock of being jerked awake. The after-effects of my dream—the best one I’ve ever had—are still surging through me. I lie there for a minute, reliving the bits I remember, savoring them. Then I remember why that’s a bad idea.
 

It takes every bit of my willpower to shove the lingering images—and feelings—out of my head. After a few deep breaths, I jump up and head to the bathroom for a much colder shower than I normally take.

 
When I get off my bus, I catch myself craning my neck to see if M’s is here yet. It is, and it’s already empty. Just as well. Not that I can exactly avoid her, since we have practically all the same classes.

As I approach first period, it’s like her
brath
reaches out to drag me forward, making me speed up. Which is ridiculous. I square my shoulders and slow back down. Still, the instant I’m through the door, I can’t seem to keep my eyes from turning her way.
 

Unfortunately, she looks every bit as hot as she did in my dream. Hotter, even, since she’s wearing a tank top and shorts instead of the jeans and heavy coat from the dream. No, I will
not
think about how she felt under that coat. It was just a dream!
 

Wasn’t it?

I’m busy lambasting myself for totally inappropriate thoughts when she turns her head and smiles at me. I smile back, but stiffly. And suddenly feel like I could use another cold shower.

I sit down in my seat with a thump, vowing not to look her way again. A vow I can’t keep for five minutes, much less the whole class. Every time I let my focus drift from Pre-Cal stuff, scenes from that dream assail me again. Get me all worked up again.
 

When the bell rings, I scoop up my books and rush off to Spanish, where I won’t have to deal with this torture.
 

Determined to scrub that dream—and especially the feelings associated with it—from my mind once and for all, I make a point of talking to Trina before class starts.

“So, how was the party after the game Friday night?”

She shoots a flirty glance my way. “Not nearly as good as it would have been if you’d come. It was like the guest of honor wasn’t even there! We toasted you a lot.”

“Yeah, well, my folks thought I should be home in case the cops had questions about that lunatic on the sidelines, the one Mr. Cormac hauled off.”

“And did they?”

“Nah. Guess they got all they needed from Mr. Cormac.” From what M said, I doubted the police had been told at all. “Wish I’d come to the party instead.”

Trina gives me a limpid look from those big blue eyes and I try—I really try—to feel attracted to her. She’s pretty. And well-built. Most guys seem to consider her way hotter than M. Which I totally don’t get. M is so much more—

I yank my thoughts away from M and back to Trina.
Why
is it so hard?
 

“I’ll, uh, try to come to the next one,” I half promise even though my folks won’t like it. They know full well there’s drinking at those parties. I must have stupidly told them that last year. They claim alcohol would screw up my brain even more.
 

I’ve quit mentioning my random memory flashes to them, they’re so jumpy about the idea of me remembering things I shouldn’t. And obviously, since I never mentioned the arboretum at all, I couldn’t tell them it seemed familiar. It looked so different in my dream…

And I’m right back where I started, obsessing again.

In Chemistry, I pay extra close attention to today’s lab. But all the lab partners are talking to each other, reading instructions aloud. And every time M says something to Molly, on the other side of the room, her voice thrums through me more intensely than ever.

“Rigel! I said Sodium Chloride, not Calcium Chloride!” Trina snaps. “Here, let me do that or you’re going to screw up the grade for both of us. Where is your head today, anyway?”

Back in that snowy arboretum. Again.

Lit class is even worse. With M sitting just three feet from me, Ms. Raymond might as well be speaking Mandarin Chinese. To keep from totally losing my cool, I force myself to make a mental list of all the reasons I can
not
let that insane dream make me do something stupid. Like ask M out.
 

Reason One: she’s the freaking Sovereign. The supreme ruler of at least a quarter million people. And I’m basically nobody, no matter what kind of “special connection” she claims we have. Had. Last year.

Reason Two: according to Martian law or tradition or whatever, she’s supposed to end up with Sean. So asking her out would be like asking out somebody else’s fiancée. Whether they’re technically dating right now or not.

Reason Three: even if
she’s
not on board with the whole Sean-being-her-Royal-Consort thing, Sean obviously is. Last week I told him flat out I was no poacher, and I meant it.

Reason Four: according to M herself, one reason my memory got erased was because of the relationship she and I used to have.
 

Reason Five: my parents are obviously worried, even scared, about what could happen if I get too tight with M. They’re not stupid, so they probably have a good reason for that.

Reason Six: anything I want as badly as I want M right now can’t
possibly
be good for me.

I spend the rest of class going over and over my list, determined to commit it to memory for easy reference in case I get too tempted to do or say something I shouldn’t. It helps a little.

But not much.

When everyone heads to lunch, I hang back so I can be sure not to be anywhere near M in the cafeteria line. After she goes to her usual table, I go to mine—and sit with my back to her.

“Hey, Rigel, no relapses over the weekend?” Matt Mullins asks, peering into my face. “You looked like you were gonna hurl before that fourth quarter turnaround. Food poisoning or something?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I figure it was something I ate. Or maybe some twenty-four-hour bug. Just glad I got over it in time to do my job last quarter.”

“Weren’t we all,” agrees Jimmy Franklin. “Don’t scare us like that again, man.”

I have a sudden, irrational urge to tell Franklin to shut up or even punch him in the face. But I realize in time it has nothing to do with what he just said. It’s because of those memory flashes of him dancing with M—which never bothered me that much before. Didn’t M say those flashes were fake anyway?
 

No, just that they were “safe” memories those so-called patriots stuck on top of more dangerous ones. Like any about M and me together. Reason Five.

“I’ll do my best,” I finally say. “Anyway, I feel fine today.” Not true, exactly. In fact, I’m kind of a mess. But hopefully not in a way that’ll affect how I play football.
 

In Government, I feel awkward and uncomfortable around Sean and M. Reasons Two and Three keep running through my head, especially when M asks to borrow a pen from me and brushes my hand when she takes it. I manage not to flinch from the way-too-delicious jolt I get. But just barely. Knowing she did it on purpose doesn’t help.

For the last fifteen minutes of class, we’re supposed to talk to our partners about our projects. That gives me an excuse to move farther away from M, though talking with Sean feels weird now.
 

“You okay today?” he asks when I space out again and don’t answer whatever he just asked. Proving I suck at hiding my feelings.

“Yeah. Just a little…scattered. Sorry.” I absolutely can’t be thinking about M like that right now! Or ever. But especially now. “What did you ask?”

“Just whether you want to come over and work on this at my house some night this week. My mum and dad want to thank you for what you, um, did Friday night. I do, too. That guy was seriously bad news. If you hadn’t been there—”

I shrug. “Just glad I saw him in time to run interference until Mr. Cormac got there.”
 

“Hey, don’t downplay it. That was really quick thinking and follow-through. So, you think you can come by sometime?”

The muscles in my neck tense up and I shift in my seat, hoping I don’t look as uncomfortable as I feel. Not only is Sean treating me like some kind of hero when I’m actively lusting after his girl, but now that I know what his father did to me, there’s no way I want to go to his house.

“I’ll, um, check with my folks. Anyway, what do you think? Should we go with one of the Articles or maybe how the Constitution got ratified?”

To my relief he switches to the topic of our project for the rest of class—a much less dangerous subject. I’m starting to relax around him when M comes up from behind me and touches my arm.
 

“Here’s your pen back, Rigel. Thanks.”
 

I practically have to climb back inside my skin before I can answer in a normal voice. “Sure. No problem.”
 

She smiles and goes back to her seat while I’m still resonating from that unexpected touch. Again I feel the surge of strength she somehow gives me. It would be great if I could use that strength to
resist
her. Somehow, I don’t think it works that way.