Starstruck (14 page)

A reluctant sense of relief started to creep through me, but it might have just been the result of his hand on mine. That, plus wanting so very desperately to believe he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me like that. But that very desperation made me mistrust my instincts.

“The truth.” I glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “That you’re a Martian? Come on, Rigel. What does that even mean?”

“If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. I did say you wouldn’t believe me.”

He gave me a sad sort of smile and now I looked, really looked, into his eyes and saw an echo of the pain I’d been feeling since I left him in the courtyard. Like I’d actually hurt him with my accusations. Could he really be that good an actor? Could anyone?

Much as I longed to believe him, I was afraid to lower my guard completely, the image of Trina laughing at me lingering in the back of my mind. “I . . . I have to get to class. Maybe we can talk later.”

I tried to pull my hand away, but he tightened his grip. “You did say you wanted an explanation,” he reminded me.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Okay, how do
you
explain what happened yesterday with Farmer? And there’s other stuff you’ve wondered about, too, isn’t there?”

He was right, of course. There definitely
was
something different about him. Something . . . better. How
had
he zapped Bryce Farmer like that? And I knew those jolts when we touched weren’t just static electricity. Then there was the stuff he knew that he shouldn’t . . .

“Okay,” I finally said, “I’ll listen. I’m not promising to believe anything, though.”

“Great. That’s all I’m asking—that you listen.” He smiled his relief and I couldn’t help smiling back. “So, can you come to practice again today?”

Reluctantly, I shook my head. “My aunt was kind of upset about it yesterday. Plus, I have taekwondo class this afternoon. I missed last Wednesday, so I really should go.”

“You know taekwondo? Cool!” He looked impressed, which was flattering.

“Yeah—though I’m not very good yet.”

That reminded me of my dramatic improvement at Saturday’s class, then the other improvements I’d noticed—my skin, my eyes. Could it possibly all be linked to Rigel somehow?

Before I could think of a way to ask, he looked at the clock in the hallway. “The bell is going to ring in a minute. You’d better eat something.” He held up my lunch, which I’d left behind in the courtyard when I’d stormed out.

“I’m not hungry,” I said automatically. “So, why did you want me to come to football practice?” I figured I didn’t have anything to lose by asking that now.

He handed me the paper sack. “Eat. I’ll answer all of your questions, I promise, but I can’t do it in the next minute—or where people can hear us.”

I really wasn’t hungry but because he was waiting, I opened my sack and pulled out the peanut butter sandwich I’d slapped together this morning and took a bite. Then another. “Okay?” I asked around my mouthful.

Rigel laughed. “Come on. You can finish it on the way to class.”

Luckily, the stuff we were doing in French was really easy—subjunctives—since I spent the whole period mulling over Rigel’s every word, every look. I decided there were only three options: he was lying, which meant he probably was in cahoots with Trina, or he was telling the truth, or he was crazy.

As much as I wanted to believe option number two, I’d read enough about Mars to know it wasn’t possible. The gravity was too low, the atmosphere was too thin, the temperatures were too extreme. There was no way that humans could survive there without pressure suits, or that any real “Martian” would be able to function on Earth.

Which left option three—which I still preferred over the first one.

When I got to Health, I scrutinized Trina, trying to figure out whether she had anything to do with all of this. She didn’t look particularly smug or secretive. In fact, she didn’t look at me at all, until one of her friends whispered something to her.

“What?” she demanded as I took my seat in front of her. “Were you staring at me?”

“Me?” I asked innocently. “Why would I stare at you?”

She looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged and went back to talking to her friends. I listened, but they were just discussing clothes and their next shopping trip.

Even if Rigel
was
an amazing actor, I knew Trina wasn’t, so I was finally convinced that whatever was going on, she wasn’t involved. That made me feel better, even if it meant Rigel was crazy. There were degrees of crazy, after all, and crazy was better than mean. Crazy I could work with. Maybe.

Besides, he couldn’t
just
be crazy. He—we?—
had
zapped Bryce Farmer somehow. Plus the other stuff. Maybe . . . maybe “Martian” was a code word for something else? That must be it! A wave of relief swept through me at such a viable alternative to Rigel being insane.

On the way to the bus, I stopped at my locker to swap out some books and when I closed it, Rigel was standing there.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes searching my face, like he was gauging my mood.

“Hey,” I replied. “Don’t you have practice?”

He nodded. “I just wanted to see you for a sec. And ask if we can try lunch in the courtyard again tomorrow?”

“Um, sure. I, uh, promise not to run away this time.” I could kick myself now for freaking out. If I hadn’t done that, I’d already know whatever he was planning to tell me.

“And I’ll try not to upset you.”

I frowned at his phrasing. “So . . . you think I’m likely to get upset—again?”

For just a second he hesitated. “I hope not. Oh, and one more thing. Can you, um, not tell anybody what I’ve told you so far?”

I almost laughed, but not quite. “No worries there. But why—?”

“Just . . .trust me, M. Please.”

Without warning, he leaned in and kissed me—kissed me!—right on the lips. It was super quick, but his lips gave me almost double the jolt his touch normally did, leaving me breathless and reeling. I stared up at him, too stunned to form a thought, much less any words.

For a second he stared back, looking nearly as startled as he’d been by that first touch a week ago—but not upset. In fact, he actually smiled.

“Gotta run,” he said, and I thought he sounded a little bit breathless, too. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun at taekwondo!” With a wink, he turned and sprinted off down the hallway.

Still dazed, I watched him go, then suddenly realized I’d better hurry or I’d miss the bus. The hall was empty by now, but from the few curious looks I noticed on my way outside, I knew my face must be giving away how overwhelmed I felt. No, more than overwhelmed—euphoric. Like I could walk on clouds or fly to the moon.

My first kiss!

I worked hard to control my expression before Bri and Deb saw me. I wasn’t ready to tell anybody, not just yet. I wanted to keep it my own precious secret, to savor and relive and dream about all night.

Unfortunately, the “secret” part of my precious secret lasted about two minutes.

“Omigod, M, look at you!” Deb exclaimed when I plunked down into the seat she and Bri had saved for me, the last person onto the bus. “You’re, like, practically glowing!”

“She’s right,” Bri agreed. “And you were such a mess in History. What happened?”

“Rigel Stuart kissed her,” Heather James answered from two rows up before I could even try to think up a story. “Mallory Adams saw it and told Jennifer, who told Allison and me. So Marsh, is he as good as he looks?” Heather waggled her eyebrows at me.

Before I could do more than gasp and stare at her, Deb and Bri squealed in unison.

“And you didn’t
tell
us?” Brianna was clearly offended. “I thought we were your best friends!”

“You are! And I would have. It . . . it only happened a couple minutes ago. I swear!”

They both leaned in toward me so we could talk without the whole bus hearing. “Okay, tell us everything,” Deb said in an excited whisper. “What did he say? What did you do?”

I was still in a daze, both from the kiss and from finding out the whole school already knew about it. “I . . . there’s not much to tell, except it was amazing. But quick—just a peck, really.” I started to relive it, but Bri yanked me right back to the present.

“On the lips?” she demanded. I nodded and they both squealed again, making heads turn all over the bus. “I guess you guys made up then?”

“Um, yeah, I guess we did. We’re going to talk more tomorrow at lunch.” Everybody near us was obviously listening, so with a significant look around, I changed the subject. “Can one of you tell me what we went over in History today? I wasn’t paying much attention.”

They got what I was doing and played along, though I knew they’d go back to demanding details the first chance they got.

If I hadn’t been so distracted, this taekwondo class would have been even better than Saturday’s. The few times I managed to focus on what I was doing, I was awesome—at least by my admittedly low standards. I was able to back kick the bag right into the wall, something most of the guys could do, but which I never had. And in sparring practice, I landed more kicks than I received, for a change. But all I could think about most of the time was that kiss . . . and what it meant.

Or if it meant anything at all.

That was the question that plagued me all through dinner, then the whole time I was trying to do my homework—which definitely suffered from my distraction.

Rigel had
seemed
to be nearly as affected as I was by that surprise kiss. At least, it was a huge surprise to me, and I’d almost swear he hadn’t planned it. But with boys, who could tell? If my aunt was to be believed, they were all after just one thing, so that kiss could have been part of a plan to get into my pants. But I didn’t think so.

Needless to say, I didn’t breathe a word about it to my aunt and uncle. Especially since I wasn’t sure I objected even if that
was
Rigel’s motive. I felt guilty even thinking that, but by now I was crushing so hard on him that nearly all rational thought had deserted me.

As I got ready for bed, I tried to resurrect my earlier doubts about Rigel—how impossible the literal truth was about Mars and that he might be crazy or something. But by the time I lay down I realized it hardly mattered anymore. Unless he turned out to be a serial killer . . . and maybe even then . . . I was totally willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I was in love.

That truth hit me with a flash of light—then an audible boom. And some distant rumbling.

Oh. It was just a thunderstorm. But I couldn’t help feeling like it was fate or an omen or something, arriving at the same moment as my epiphany.

I fell asleep to the sound of thunder and it wove its way into my dreams, where Rigel and I walked hand in hand through an exotic landscape. Spectacular explosions were going off all around us but somehow never quite touched us. Together, we were invincible.

Despite nearly blinding rain, the bus couldn’t go fast enough for me the next morning. I was dying to see Rigel again, to see how he’d act toward me today. I was also eager to hear his explanation, but I had to admit that was secondary. For now.

Bri and Deb tried to pry more details out of me about yesterday’s kiss—they’d known better than to call me at home—but I didn’t say much. Until I knew what was really going on with Rigel, I didn’t want to talk about it. Bri was clearly ticked, but I’d worry about that later.

On the way to class, I got an inkling of how my social status had improved now that word had gotten around about Rigel and me. People who had never made eye contact before went out of their way to say hi. I even got asked to a party Saturday night—definitely a first.

“I’ll come if I can,” I answered Missy Gillespie, who was a junior and really popular. And who’d never spoken to me before.

“Cool! Hope you can make it, M!”

I knew there wasn’t a chance Aunt Theresa would let me go, but it was still amazingly flattering to be asked. And she’d called me M, like my best friends did!

A sudden attack of nerves hit me when I got to Geometry. For a second I was scared Rigel would ignore me like he had a week ago, but the moment he saw me, he smiled and came over.

“Hey,” he said. “I would have called last night, but I remembered how tricky it is for you to talk on the phone at home. Didn’t want to get you in any trouble or anything.”

Relief blossomed in my chest—along with the intense thrill of being near him again. “That’s okay. We still on for lunch?” I glanced out the window, where rain was falling in sheets.

“You bet. We’ll find someplace dry,” he promised.

We had to separate then, since class was starting, but my nervousness was gone. Everything was going to be fine.

It was still pouring when the lunch bell sounded, three and a half hours later. Like yesterday, Rigel and I left Science class together, while Trina walked off like she didn’t know either one of us. Which was just fine with me.

“So, where’s a private place to talk other than the courtyard?” Rigel asked as we went out into the hallway.