Game of Stars

by Sayantani DasGupta

  My best friend’s eyes were near invisible behind her rain-smeared glasses. “From what you told me, his brother Neel’s no slouch. Let him do it.”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but I was a little confused as to why Neel hadn’t been with Lal in the studios, or why Lal hadn’t even mentioned him. Or honestly, why it hadn’t been Neel asking me to come home and join the contest with him. But still, it didn’t change my point. “You know,” I shouted over the pounding ice-rain, “superheroes in stories never have to deal with overprotective parents!”

  “Niet, not precisely true. Superman’s parents were so protective they put him in a capsule and jetted him off into space, and Wonder Woman snuck off without her mother’s permission into the world of men.”

  That made me pause. “Snuck off, huh?”

  “Don’t get any dumb ideas, por favor?” Zuzu yelled over her shoulder. She was almost up the entrance steps to the school. “Your parents would kill you if you did something like that. And so would I. That Sesha’s a twisted dude. You don’t want to mess with him again.”

  I grumbled a little under my breath. It’s not like I didn’t appreciate Zuzu’s concern. After all, she was the only one at school who knew about my real identity. I’d told my bestie because it was just too big a secret to keep from her. But I hadn’t told anyone else. In fact, it had been Zuzu who had warned me to keep all the stuff about the Kingdom Beyond under a tight lid. People probably wouldn’t believe me anyway, but worse still, Zuzu was worried about what could happen if people did believe me. Would men in black suits take me away to do experiments on my DNA? We’d both seen a lot of TV movies about government agents who went around hunting undercover aliens, and she didn’t want something like that to happen to me.

  “I can’t believe I have to be here doing my homework instead of over there becoming a legend,” I finally said.

  “Even legends have to pass math.” Zuzu laughed as she ran inside the school.

  I was just about to follow her, when something made me freeze in place on the entrance steps, my eyes turned upward. Other kids streaming off buses pushed past me, almost toppling me over. Meanwhile, the skies kept pouring down hail onto my head and shoulders, covering the sidewalk beneath my feet in ice. But I couldn’t move. Because sitting on top of the slanted roof of Alexander Hamilton Middle School was a sight that almost made me scream: two ginormous, hippopotamus-sized birds, blinking in the rain.

  They were both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Their feathers were ivory at the middle, but darkening at the edges, until each feather ended in a dramatic paisley-shaped swirl. And that wasn’t even the weirdest thing about them. Even though they looked like overgrown eagles crossed with pachyderms, the birds’ faces were entirely human.

  “What is the matter with you? You’re going to get pneumonia!” Zuzu ran back out to tug at my sleeve.

  “Birds,” I managed to blurt out.

  “What birds?” Zuzu looked around in confusion.

  I gave her a sharp look and realized she really couldn’t see them. I knew what must be happening. Last Halloween, when Lal and Neel had parked their flying pakkhiraj horses on my front lawn, the only people besides us who could see them were really little kids. The horses had been under some kind of “the older you are, the less chance there is of seeing me” cloaking spell, and I was sure these birds must work the same way.

  “Kiran, are you okay?”

  I wasn’t. I knew I was getting soaked, but I couldn’t feel the rain anymore. I didn’t feel the cold either. All I felt was the ancient magic of these creatures from the Kingdom Beyond.

  “Who are you?” I whispered. I was talking to the birds, but Zuzu didn’t know that.

  “Kiran!” she shouted, pulling hard now at my arm. “Basta! You’re freaking me out!”

  Bangoma and Bangomee, said the birds. They didn’t speak out loud but somehow, their words slipped into my brain. We are here, Princess, for thee.

  I’d seen a lot of brain-boggling things in the last months, but I’d never seen hippopotamus-sized birds with human faces. And I’d certainly never seen magical creatures landing on the roof of my middle school. The birds smiled, each bowing low until its head touched the roof. Then, for what must have been a few seconds, but felt like hours, they just stared at me, their eyes swirling with psychedelic colors—multicolor beacons in the torrential rain. I started to feel myself getting light-headed, and wondered if I was being hypnotized.

  “Why are you here?” I whispered, now totally ignoring a frantic Zuzu.

  I expected them to say something wise and deep, about the oneness of the multiverse, or the stream of the eternal spirit, but instead, their voices floated into my head in a weird, nasal unison. Your application is, like, way late. Hold your darn finger out now posthaste!

  “My … f-finger?” I stuttered. For who knows what reason, I took off one of my gloves and held out my hand. I only jumped back a little when one of the birds poked my finger with his claw, drawing out a bead of blood.

  “Hey …” I protested as the bird squeezed my finger, letting the blood drip onto a feather the other bird held out.

  We can’t tell you how long the processing takes. Sometimes longer, sometimes right away, said Bangoma.

  “Processing? Processing for what?” My brain thought the words, but my mouth couldn’t seem to make the sounds. It didn’t matter, though, because the birds heard me.

  Bangomee flapped her wings and answered, We’re application ambassadors, hired by a friend. We can’t tell you who, or our jobs will end!

  Don’t call us, we’ll find you, added Bangoma. Now scram to class, girl, toodle-oo!

  “Wait, what …” I felt dizzy, unable to find words. What had just happened? But the birds didn’t seem to have any more time for questions. Flapping their giant wings, the two creatures flew off into the steel-gray sky. As soon as I broke contact with their spinning, multicolor eyes, I felt the whole memory of the giant birds start to fade, like someone had taken a giant eraser to the chalkboard of my mind.

  “I don’t feel right.” I swayed slightly on my feet, and Zuzu grabbed me.

  “Does your little friend have a death wish?” I didn’t need to turn around to recognize the voice. It was our school-queen-bee-slash-my-evil-next-door-neighbor, Jovi, sparing a second to be snarky as she ran by.

  “She’s just been standing there, with one glove off and her hand out!” Zuzu yelled. I could finally hear the panic in her voice. “I think she’s in shock or something!”

  It was true. Something had really done a number on my brain cells. I rubbed my temple. “Why are we standing in the rain?” I mumbled.

  “Did she get hit on the head by some hail?” Two people bundled me into the building. “Come on, let’s take her to the nurse.” I realized with shock that the person speaking was Jovi, and that she also had a hold of one of my arms.

  “No, let’s take the poor dear inside of here.” Someone with a lilting accent was holding open the door of the girls’ room, while Jovi and Zuzu helped me inside. “I have something that will mayhap help her regain that girlish glow.”

  I blinked, recognizing the third girl. Her name was Naya, and she was new to the school, moved here from another country. It was my own fault I’d never asked from where. All I knew was that she spent a lot of time hanging out at Jovi’s house. I’d seen her next door a bunch of times after school and on weekends. I didn’t know much else about her except that she was pretty, and kind of annoyingly perky.

  As Zuzu dried off her glasses with a paper towel, and Jovi stuck the sopping strands of her hair under the hand drier, Naya pulled out a tiny green bottle from her beaded purse. “This will help you.”

  “I’m not drinking that,” I said, backing away. I was still freaked out by … whatever had just happened. Plus, the plain tile floor and terrible fluorescent lights made the bathroom feel like a crime scene.

  Naya laughed, showing rows of perfect white teeth. She was short and kind of si
ckeningly adorable, like one of the girls on the Princess Pretty Pants™ commercial, but grown up. I mean, she wore her hair in, like, a million tiny ponytails with whimsical ties. (Who even owns that many whimsical ties?) Today, she had on a sparkly sweater that said Bee WHOOO You Are, with pictures of a bee, an owl, and, inexplicably, a monkey under the letters. I guess it was supposed to be ironic, but I wasn’t really sure. Naya seemed like the kind of person who watched a lot of kitten videos on social media. And yet, for inexplicable reasons, super-meanie Jovi actually seemed to like her.

  “It’s not for drinking! Here, smell it!” Naya uncorked and then waved the little bottle under my nose. It stunk something awful.

  “Ew! Get that away from me!” I batted at the new girl’s surprisingly strong arm even as the smell of whatever that was totally cleared my head.

  “Don’t even try with this one, Naya.” Jovi narrowed her eyes at me. “The giant chip on her shoulder prevents her from behaving like a normal person.”

  “Back off, Berger!” I snapped. I was feeling better but was still a little wigged out.

  “Most people just say thank you when someone helps them,” Jovi shot back.

  “Thank you,” I said in a gruff voice. “But you didn’t have to. I’m fine now.”

  “No worries, you do you, girl,” said Naya in a slow and practiced way, like she’d just heard the phrase from Jovi and was trying out using it. Inexplicably, she then turned around and held up her cell. “Say paneer!” she trilled, before pulling my face down to hers and taking a selfie with me. Then she pressed the Instachat video button on her phone and said, “Another vomitus sickness cured with Stinkopolis brand smelling salts!”

  “Don’t post that somewhere!” I batted at her arm again, but Naya seemed to think it was a joke, and danced out of my reach. “I probably look awful!”

  “What’s your problem, Turnpike Princess?” Jovi snapped. “You still living in that dream world of your parents’? The one where they tell you you’re Indian royalty in hiding?”

  I felt the heat rush to my face. When we were younger, and my mom used to dress me up in silk saris and sparkling jewels every Halloween, it had been Jovi who’d burst my bubble, asking how I could be a princess if my dad owned a Quickie Mart on Route 46. I wished so hard I could rub her face in it now—tell her I really was a princess—but she’d probably just laugh at me. After all, I had no proof. Unless you counted the snake sign on my arm and the crescent-shaped moon mark scar on the back of my neck, which I’m sure Jovi wouldn’t.

  But Naya didn’t seem to share Jovi’s skepticism. “Oooh, royalty!” The girl gave a goofy jump up to her perky little toes. “Oh, Your Royal Highnosity, tell me all about it! The gowns! The jewels! And cake! I’ve heard if you’re a princess, there’s always a lot of cake!” Naya gave a twirl and a huge sigh that made me seriously concerned for her state of mind. She wasn’t just annoying like one of the girls on the Princess Pretty Pants™ commercial, she was like Princess Pretty Pants™ herself.

  With a sniff, Jovi pulled Naya out of the bathroom ahead of us. “Come on, we’re going to be late for science!”

  “Bye, Your Royal Majesty, Your Most Serene Highness, Your Princess-ship!” Naya waved so enthusiastically, I felt like puking again.

  Zuzu tugged me along down the hall. “You feeling buena? What was going on with you back there?”

  I was about to tell Zuzu about the birds, but she barreled on. “You know, you were being kind of rude, and they did help you. I know you guys didn’t get along when you were younger, but Jovi’s on the fencing team with me now. She’s fantastique at foil, and besides, she’s usually pretty nice.”

  “Okay, thanks for making me feel bad,” I mumbled.

  “You can’t expect to be a superstar all the time.” Zuzu threw a wet arm around my shoulder and grinned. “Welcome to your ordinary life, Turnpike Princess. I’m sorry, I mean, Princess Demon Slayer!”

  Squishing and squelching all the way, Zuzu and I made it to our science classroom just in time for the first bell. Even though I looked like a rat escaped from a flooded drain, and I was still totally confused by whatever had happened before (I mean, why did my finger hurt so much?), I couldn’t help but be excited for class. It was Monday, which meant it was video day.

  Outside Dr. Dixon’s room was a poster of that great scientist Albert Einstein, someone I’d actually met during my interdimensional travels last fall. I know it doesn’t make sense, since Albert Einstein is, of course, dead, but there was something about time and space working differently in different dimensions that allowed him to be alive over there, teaching school to baby stars in an outer space nebula. Yet another awesome experience I couldn’t tell anyone about. The quote on the poster was pretty great, and it felt as if Einstein-ji had said it just for me: If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.

  Dr. Dixon was, as usual, at the door to greet us all as we entered his classroom. I shook his hand, grinning up into his warm, moustached face. I didn’t know how he did it, but he was so enthusiastic about space, and dinosaurs, and atoms and stuff, he made his students—most of us anyway—love science too. Also, his ugly-funny vests were hilarious. He had one that was all giant microscopes floating through space, another of dogs and cats in astronaut suits, and, my favorite one, the one he was wearing today, of farting T. rexes. (The farts were these green clouds coming out from under their tails, and it made me laugh every time I saw it.)

  “Hey, Dr. D.! Did you hear the one about the scientist reading the book about helium?” Dr. Dixon sometimes gave extra credit to people who could stump him with a good science joke, so I’d taken to looking through Zuzu’s brother Niko’s joke books when I was over at her house.

  “No, pray tell, Ms. Ray.” My science teacher arched one thick eyebrow. “What about the scientist reading the book about helium?”

  “He couldn’t put it down! Get it? Because helium rises …”

  “Yes, thank you so much for that explanation, I am familiar with the properties of helium.” Dr. Dixon’s eyes twinkled and his moustache even quivered a little, but he kept a straight face.

  I launched right into another one as I walked through the door into the room. “I have to tell bad jokes about chemistry because …”

  Dr. D. joined me for the punch line. “The good ones … Argon!”

  So I tried yet another. “There aren’t too many chemistry jokes, so I only tell them periodically!”

  “That’s funny!” It was Naya, sitting near the front of the room with Jovi beside her. “Her Serene Princess-ship’s really funny!” she said earnestly to Jovi, who rolled her eyes.

  “She’s hilarious,” Jovi deadpanned, but Naya just kept grinning in that syrupy way. Maybe they weren’t very sarcastic wherever Naya came from, but she was in New Jersey now, and sarcasm was the song of our people. Someone was really going to have to explain that to her.

  As I sat down in one of the few still-empty seats, Dr. Dixon went to the bookmark for the public television station on his computer, which was already projecting to the screen. He always started every Monday by showing us a few minutes of my favorite science program starring an absolute rock star of a scientist: Shady Sadie the Science Lady. Shady Sadie’s public television programs on everything from the super-cool awesomeness of a nebula star nursery to how to explode your toilet with cola and Stop Rocks were pretty much the most mind-blowing-est things I’d ever seen. Last fall, when I’d learned that rakkhosh were actually, in some weird, interdimensional way, the same thing as black holes, it had been the astronomy I’d learned from Shady Sadie that had helped me save my friends and family. Between my demoness nightmares, Sesha’s wacky game show contest, and whatever the heck had happened this morning, I felt like I needed some of the Science Lady’s insight and wisdom.

  “Dr. Dixon?” I shot my hand in the air as an idea came to me. “Could we watch the Shady Sadie show from a couple wee
ks ago? The one about that new discovery with the colliding waves and … falling metal, and … uh …”

  Someone snickered from the back of the room, and I stopped talking, feeling my face heat up.

  “You sure you’re feeling okay?” Zuzu hissed from behind me. She probably thought I had a concussion, and was regretting not taking me to the nurse before.

  But luckily, Dr. Dixon seemed to understand what I was rambling on about. He scrolled through a few of the streaming videos, looking for the one I meant.

  “You mean her show about the black hole collision?” my science teacher prompted. I was too embarrassed to say anything but just gave a little nod as I slunk even lower in my seat. To make matters even worse, Dr. Dixon gave me a big thumbs-up. “Sure, Ms. Ray, anything for Shady Sadie’s biggest fan!”

  “What a dork!” I heard someone mutter, and there were even more snickers from somewhere over my shoulder. I blinked hard, willing the tears away from my eyes. In the Kingdom Beyond, I’d gotten better about showing my emotions in front of people, but middle school was a whole other universe. In some ways, the kids here were just as bloodthirsty as a pack of rakkhosh.

  But thank goodness for small miracles, because the classroom lights went low just then. And then there she was on the screen, dancing in to the funny trombone music from her show: My role model! My nerdy girl hero! My scientific rock star! I tried not to look too interested. Nothing put a target on your back in my middle school like looking like you’re enjoying a science program.

  Shady Sadie was wearing her signature round dark glasses, pantsuit, and bow tie. Today’s suit was white with hourglasses all over it. The hourglasses were filled with little multicolor gems that looked like the sands of time. Her bow tie was a giant gem-filled hourglass too. Her short black hair was all spiky in a zillion directions, and she bopped to the beat of her show’s theme.