Starcrossed (25 page)

“Thanks for convincing Aunt Theresa to let me go to the game, Mrs. O’Gara,” I said as I got into the back seat with Molly half an hour later. “When I asked earlier, she said absolutely not.”

I didn’t dare ask if she’d used any special power on my aunt, but Mr. O turned to wink at me from the driver’s seat and said, “Lili can be very persuasive when she wants to be.” Which definitely lent weight to my theory.

“Your aunt feels strongly about discipline,” Mrs. O’Gara said, “which would be well and good were you a normal teenager, but for our Princess, some occasional leniency is in order. Anyway, Sean and Molly wanted you to come very much, and your aunt allowed that it wasn’t fair to punish them for your lapse in judgment.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, since she apparently agreed I’d had a “lapse in judgment,” but then I realized this might be a chance to find out about that powwow at the Stuarts’ house last night. Except if I let on I knew Mr. O had been there, they’d know Rigel had told me, since none of them had.
 

Maybe I’d better not tip them off, since I was hoping to slip away to talk to him during the game. If Rigel
wasn’t
there tonight, I’d definitely ask about that meeting on the way home. As Sovereign, surely I deserved to know if anything big was going down.

We made our way to the gym, Molly peeling off to join the cheerleading squad as soon as we got there. Sean was already on the court with the team, warming up. It was the first time I’d seen him in his jersey and I was startled at how muscular he looked. Not skinny at all—that was an illusion because of his height.

I obediently followed Mr. and Mrs. O’Gara to the bleachers, turning my attention from the guys on the court to the spectators. I was still searching for Rigel when Bri and Deb spotted me and hurried over.
 

“You made it!” Bri exclaimed, practically wriggling with excitement. “C’mon, we have great seats, right down front.”

I glanced at the O’Garas. “Um, I can’t. Unless you have room for all three of us?”
 

“We’ll make room,” Deb promised. “You’re Sean’s parents, right? You should sit close to the court anyway.”

I belatedly introduced everyone as we went back down and squeezed into the prime section of bench Bri and Deb had saved with coats, despite a few grumbles from other students.
 

“He looks good, doesn’t he?” Mrs. O’Gara said to her husband, but I barely heard her, because at that moment I spotted Rigel, heading obliquely our way. His dad was with him.
 

Knowing Rigel wouldn’t be looking for me, I sat as tall as I could, trying to catch his eye without being so obvious that the O’Garas—or Mr. Stuart—would notice. When that didn’t work, I took a deep breath and tried to project my thoughts—and my
brath—
toward Rigel, doubtful it could work from this distance.
 

To my surprise, he immediately looked up and around, then spotted me. Coincidence? I smiled and gave a little nod. He grinned back and started toward me, then obviously noticed the O’Garas, because he stopped and frowned, his expression questioning. I gave a tiny shake of my head, looking meaningfully at his dad, then the O’Garas.

With a quick glance at his dad, he nodded almost imperceptibly to me, then veered off to his right, motioning his dad to follow. A moment later some of his football buddies saw him and waved him over. I watched out of the corner of my eye to see where he sat.
 

“Oh, look, M, there’s—” Bri suddenly exclaimed, but I quickly stepped on her foot. “Ow! What—?” Then she caught my wide-eyed glare, and the quick shift of my eyes toward the O’Garas and seemed to get it.
 

“Is something wrong, dear?” Mrs. O’Gara asked from my other side.

“Um, no. Just, um, sat on a coat button.” Bri gave me a conspiratorial smile when Mrs. O looked away and I smiled back and mouthed
thanks
.

The game started a couple of minutes later, but I was way more focused on Rigel, several rows up and to the left. I didn’t dare crane my neck, but did sneak glances back when everyone else was watching the court. On my third peek I managed to catch his eye for an instant and shoot him a quick smile, which he returned with a tight one of his own.

Immediately, I put my plan into action. “I’m sorry,” I said to Mrs. O’Gara with a grimace I hoped was convincing. “I really need to go to the bathroom. You and Bri tell me anything I miss, okay?”

She looked at me with concern. “Are you feeling all right, dear?”

I shrugged. “Just really need to go—it hit kind of suddenly. I’ll be fine . . . after.”
 

The slightest hint of suspicion crossed her face, but then a big cheer went up as Sean sank a three-pointer, which drew her attention away from me. I cheered along with everyone else, then got up and hurried for the exit, praying that Rigel would follow me . . . and that Mrs. O’Gara wouldn’t.

streach suas
(stretch SOO-ahs):
resist oppression; underground resistance

I didn’t look over my shoulder until I was out of the gym, since doing so might make Mrs. O even more suspicious. At least she wasn’t right behind me. Yet.

“M!” Rigel called from down the hall and I whirled around, relief flooding through me. “I went out the other way so it wouldn’t look like—” He broke off as I ran to meet him halfway and flung myself into his arms.

But only for a second.
 

“C’mon. Let’s find someplace more private in case anyone comes after us.”
 

“Good idea,” he agreed. “Not a hundred per cent sure my dad didn’t see you leave.”

Hands firmly clasped, we headed down the hall halfway between the two gym exits, then around a corner into another empty hallway, where we ducked into the first open classroom we came to.

And then, finally, we were kissing. It was absolute heaven.
 

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this,” Rigel breathed when we came up for air a minute or two later. “Can you get away at
all
over the weekend? I’m dying for some serious alone time.”

“Oh, so am I, Rigel. So much! But the
only
place I’m allowed to go these days is the O’Garas.’ Which reminds me—” I pulled just far enough away to talk, keeping my fingers entwined with his. He felt
so
good. “You never got a chance to tell me why Mr. O’Gara was at your house last night.”

“It was some last-minute thing. Shim got a message from Mars and called him over so they could all discuss it.”

“I wonder if that’s what Allister was talking about? He was at the O’Garas,’” I explained with a grimace. “Wonder why he wasn’t at your place, if something big is going on?”

Rigel smiled, though it was a grim smile. “Yeah, well, my mom kind of, um, threw him out of our house after my party.”

“Wow, did she? Good for her! He totally had it coming, he was so awful to you. Is that why she did it?”

“Mostly,” he admitted. “He got even worse after you and the O’Garas left.”

I huffed out a breath. “Allister is
such
a jerk! But what was that message from Mars about?”

He shrugged, but I could sense the darkening of his mood. “Not sure. They were pretty tight-lipped, but I think the rebellion is heating up. I heard your name mentioned a few times before my mom caught me listening and sent me upstairs.”

“Yeah, Allister let something slip last night about time being short before Mrs. O shut him up. I’m getting the impression they might expect more of me sooner than they said.”

Rigel’s grip on my hands tightened, pulling me closer. “What do you mean, expect more?”

I leaned against his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. “I don’t know yet. Maybe you and I should just take off before any—”

“There you are!” Mrs. O’Gara exclaimed from the doorway of the classroom. “I was afraid of this. I’m disappointed in you, young man,” she said to Rigel. “You know full well that M’s aunt has forbidden the two of you to spend time together. I understood that your parents had done the same.”

“It’s not his fault,” I flared at her. “We just . . . just happened to run into each other.”

She just looked at me, and after a moment I guiltily let go of Rigel’s hands. I was sure the only reason she didn’t accuse me of lying was because of who I was.
 

“I think we’d better head back to the gym.” she finally said, more gently than I expected. “I imagine you’d rather I not mention this, ah, lapse to your aunt.”
 

Rigel sent me a last glance that warmed almost as much as a touch. Then he gave Mrs. O a respectful nod and left us without a word. Maybe he was afraid of what he might say.

“It’s not fair,” I mumbled, mostly to myself.

“I know, dear. And I
am
sorry. I realize this is hard for you—for both of you. We never wanted that, despite what Allister implied. But it’s for the good of our people, difficult as that may be for you to understand right now. Let’s get back to the game, shall we?”

I felt another stab of guilt for making her miss several minutes of Sean’s debut. None of this was really her fault. But it wasn’t mine, either!

We made our way back to our seats and almost immediately Mrs. O started whispering to her husband in that super-quiet Martian whisper. Straining my ears, the few words I managed to pick up worried me: “together” and “could have been seen” from Mrs. O and “delicate situation” from her husband.
What
situation, I wondered? What had changed?

Finally, reluctantly, I started to watch the game. Even though I didn’t understand much about basketball, it was obvious as soon as I paid attention that Sean was way better than any other player out there, on either team. He wasn’t the tallest—one of our guys and three of theirs were taller—but he almost never missed when he threw at the basket, which he did a lot.

Next to me, Bri repeatedly squealed about how amazing he was, reminding me uncomfortably of Rigel’s first football game. I forcefully pushed away my sense of
deja vú
because Sean was
not
any kind of replacement for Rigel. No matter what anyone “expected.” So what if his touch affected me a
tiny
bit like Rigel’s? It wasn’t the same at all.

I started watching Molly instead, doing cheers on the sidelines with the rest of the squad. As I expected, she was also really good—maybe the best out there, even though it was her first time cheering. Watching her didn’t give me any weird, guilty feelings, either.
 

Part way into the second half, Mr. O pulled out his cell phone and made a call, but I couldn’t hear any of it over the yells of the crowd. Probably tattling to Allister, I thought sourly. Glancing back, I also noticed Rigel was no longer sitting with his dad—or anywhere else I could see. I kept checking, but he didn’t come back for the rest of the game.

At the final buzzer, the gym practically exploded with cheers and everyone rushed the floor. Or, rather, rushed Sean, to congratulate him on his spectacular performance. Bri chattered nonstop as she dragged Deb and me in his direction.

“That’s the biggest basketball win Jewel has
ever
had! Sean was
incredible!
He’s even better at basketball than Rigel is at football. I mean, we didn’t win Rigel’s first game, right? But wow, we could win State if Sean keeps playing like tonight! How awesome would that be?”
 

She kept talking, but I stopped listening as soon as she dissed Rigel. Yeah, Sean had practically been a one-man team out there, but he only had four teammates to hold him back. Rigel had ten, plus he couldn’t do anything at all when the offense wasn’t playing.

Bri had me by the hand, but I was frantically scanning the mob around the court for a glimpse of Rigel, hoping he was still here. Even if I couldn’t talk to him again, with the O’Garas right behind me, I wanted to
see
him.

I didn’t, though, and then we reached Sean, who was smiling and nodding and answering questions, clearly enjoying his new celebrity enormously. Way more than Rigel had enjoyed his, I was sure. Just as I thought that, Sean spotted me.
 

“M!” he exclaimed, heading toward me with a huge grin, his arms coming up. “I was so juiced when I saw you in the bleachers! I didn’t think you could come.”
 

For a panicked second I thought he was going to hug me, but when I took a step back he immediately dropped his arms.

“Your Mom, uh, talked my aunt into letting me,” I explained, edging nonchalantly behind Bri and Mrs. O’Gara. “It was really nice of her.”

Bri wasn’t the least bit reluctant to step into that aborted hug. “Sean, you were
amazing!
” she cried, throwing her arms around him. “You looked like an NBA player out there tonight.”

He returned her hug but quickly released her, his ears reddening. “Not quite that, but thanks,” he laughed, then turned to his parents who had to practically shoulder Bri aside to reach him.

“We’re really proud of you, son,” his dad said as his mother and Molly hugged him—hugs he returned more enthusiastically than he had Bri’s. I was glad. For Bri’s sake. “You played a great game.”

Other people pressed in on him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him, but after a few minutes he turned back to his parents—and me. “Coach wants to see us in the locker room for some post-game stuff, but I should be ready to go in a few minutes. Meet you in the parking lot?”

“We’ll wait just inside the East entrance,” Mrs. O’Gara said, “in case you take longer than you expect. It’s cold outside.”

I didn’t think it was all that cold, nearly fifty degrees. But then, I’d grown up in Indiana, not a climate-controlled underground habitat.
 

“Guess we’ll see you at school,” Bri said, reluctantly, I thought. I wondered if she’d been hoping for an invitation to something after the game, then immediately felt guilty for thinking that.

To make up for it, I gave her, then Deb, a quick hug. “Yeah, see you guys tomorrow. Maybe by next weekend I’ll be ungrounded and we can go shopping or something.”