Starstruck

Chapter 10b: Extraterrestrial origin (part 2)

CHAPTER 10

Extraterrestrial origin (part 2)

I did my best to concentrate on my classes for the rest of the day, but anticipation--and a nagging worry about what Rigel had meant by "needing my strength"--kept distracting me. It was a huge relief when the final bell rang. I didn't even stop at my locker to drop off extra books, but hurried straight to the buses to meet him.

Though it wasn't a surprise to see him surrounded by girls, it did annoy me a little. Not that he was my property or anything, I reminded myself.

But then he looked over their heads and smiled at me, and all negative emotions evaporated, replaced by simple joy.

"Hey, M!" He beckoned me to his side and the press of cheerleaders reluctantly parted to let me through. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I replied, though truthfully I couldn't be all that nervous when I was close to him. A very nice side-effect of that enhancement thing, if that's what it was.

He ushered me onto the bus ahead of him, barely nodding in response to the chorus of goodbyes and "see you tonights" from the girls. We sat together in the first empty seat, and though a few people looked at me curiously, no one spoke to me. Like at lunch, several people--guys and girls--talked to Rigel about tonight's game, again making private conversation impossible.

By the time the bus turned onto the farm road south of town, I was starting to get nervous again, in spite of Rigel's calming effect. Then the bus stopped and he stood.

"Our stop," he said. "C'mon."

I followed him off, then paused, swallowing. "You're sure--?" I began.

"I'm sure." He took my hand, giving me instant courage, and led me up a long, winding drive shadowed by towering oak trees toward a yellow three-story farmhouse with a deep, wrap-around porch. A soybean field stretched into the distance behind it with a cornfield behind that. There was a grain silo visible in the distance, but no other houses within sight. A typical Indiana farmhouse, in other words.

Only not, I realized as we got close enough for me to see the three satellite dishes on the roof, along with what looked like a couple of solar panels. There was also a ham radio tower off to the side, though that wasn't too unusual out in the country. The tiny video screen next to the front door was, though. Rigel ignored it and turned the knob.

"Mom? Dad? We're home," he called as we entered the long front hallway.

We're home. What a lovely phrase. I heard light footsteps approaching and mentally shook myself.

"Marsha! Welcome!" Rigel's mother exclaimed, coming out of a doorway down the hall.

She was even prettier than I remembered, her rich, reddish hair piled loosely on top of her head, her hazel eyes--so much like Rigel's--twinkling within their thick-fringed lashes.

"Come into the kitchen," she continued. "I'm just about to take a batch of cookies out of the oven." Even as she spoke, I caught a delicious whiff and my stomach rumbled embarrassingly.

"Thanks," I managed, grateful that both she and Rigel pretended not to hear. "It's very nice of you to invite . . . I mean, to offer to drive me to the game and all." I was nearly as tongue-tied as I'd been when I first met her.

"Nonsense." She waved my words away with a smile and led the way back to the cozy, old-fashioned kitchen. "We were delighted when Rigel suggested it. Especially now that he's told you--"