One Starry Knight: A Scifi Alien Love Story (The Starry Knight Saga Book 1)

by Carrie Lynn Thomas

  Lucas slams his door shut and hesitates with the keys dangling in his hands. He hesitates. One minute passes. Then two. And three. He doesn’t start the car.

  “Lucas? Are we going?” I ask. He doesn’t answer, instead staring out the windshield as if he’s waiting on something. “Lucas?”

  He sighs, his breath like a long gust of wind. “Why did you ask…about Brianna knowing Adam?”

  “Because apparently she does. She wanted to know when he’ll be here. She—”, I cover my mouth to hold my next words inside. I can’t tell him that Brianna claims she kissed Adam. It will hurt him as much as it hurts me.

  “I didn’t tell her.”

  “Can we just go?” Images of Adam and Brianna kissing are invading my head again, and I want to be at home, in my bed, with my face buried under my pillow.

  “Yeah,” he says. “But one more question? Did you tell Adam that we’re not talking?”

  I cross my arms and look back out the window at the thick layer of clouds beginning to erase the stars. I had come close many times. Every time Adam brought up something Lucas said or did or an old memory of the three of us, I nearly blurted everything out. “No, did you?”

  “No.” He sighs again. “That’s good.”

  “Whatever.”

  “No,” he says. “That’s not how I meant it. I mean…thanks, really. Thanks.” The more he stumbles over his words, the more my blood itches and boils beneath my skin. I stare out the window and wait for him to start the car. To take me home.

  “Thanks for what?” I finally ask after several silent minutes. “And why does it matter if Adam knows or not? You’re free to be friends with whoever you want—to date whoever you want.”

  “It does matter. He’d kick my butt if he knew.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Oh no, he would. I probably deserve it,” he whispers.

  I chew the inside of my cheek and watch the shadows of trees wave across the ground. “I don’t get it,” I say glancing over at him. “I mean, I get that she was your girlfriend and you’d rather sit with her at lunch and hang out with her, but why did you ignore me? In the hallways? In class? What did I do?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know why. I guess it was too weird…you know. Me dating Brianna. You hating Brianna. Brianna hating you. So I—”

  “Pretended I didn’t exist?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. It was. It was...it was weird.”

  “That’s all you’ve got?” I shake my head. “Can we just go now?”

  His mouth opens, but I turn away, and after several moments the car starts and backs out of the parking lot. “I miss you.” His voice cracks as we pull out of Stella’s and onto the main road towards my house. I glance across the car at his profile. Stubble grows on his chin around the tiny scar left from the first razor he ever tried to shave with. I remember that day. The way he bragged about finally ‘being a man’, the way his mom screamed at the trail of blood in the bathroom. I teased him for months and months.

  I’m about to say I miss him too, but a car passes and light catches my reflection in the window. I’m a ghost. Invisible. Lucas hasn’t seen me for months. How could he miss me? I bite my lip and look away. “How can you like someone as mean as her?”

  “Sage, I-”

  “Wait,” I cry when I see my garage light flickering through the trees. “Stop the truck.” Lucas slams on the brakes bringing the truck to a halt inches from the turn in to my driveway.

  “What?” he asks breathlessly.

  “Shhh.” I hold up a finger and crank the window with my other hand. After a few seconds of only wind, I hear them. Although faint and faraway, I recognize the raised screaming voices of my mom and Mark. “I’ll just get out here.”

  “Are you sure? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Just the same old…you know.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes soften. “If you need anything—”

  “No, I’m fine.” I reach for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Wait.” He curls his hand around my arm. “I am sorry for the way I acted to you. But I really liked her. Really, really liked her. I still like her and I’m not sorry about that.” The words cut me inside. Her, how can he like her? After everything she’s done to me and to him, how can he still like her?

  Words I know I will regret slip from me. “She kissed Adam, you know? Kissed him. That’s what she said today.”

  His face turns gray and his jaw clenches. “What? When?” he asks in a tight voice.

  “Christmas. Under the mistletoe.”

  Silence fills the air between us. He turns away from me, but I can’t stop staring at him. His pale contorted face and horror-struck eyes. His clenched hands. His breaking heart. What did I do? I shouldn’t have said that. I should’ve…

  Adam and Brianna are kissing in my head, and Lucas’ words are like subtitles running across the bottom. He likes her, and he’s not sorry.

  Well, neither am I.

  I leap from the truck and slam the door before the guilt can get out and chase me.

  Chapter Four

  My mom and Mark stand outside the door to the garage, outlined in the yellow light, casting long shadows across the driveway pavement. I stick to the edge of the yard, taking slow quiet steps to the house.

  “I’m sorry,” my mom cries. She wrings her hands and walks back and forth in front of Mark repeating the words. Her favorite lines. “I’m sorry. So sorry. You’re right. I was out of line. I was way out of line.”

  Mark grunts and disappears into the garage, emerging a moment later with a cardboard box. He drops it onto the cement in front of her.

  “Please, please, please don’t go.” Her cries grow louder. “Don’t leave me.”

  Mark shakes his head, waves a hand at her, and disappears into the garage. I am so sick of this. The same crying, the same begging, the same desperation. Only the guy changes.

  Mark reappears with another box in his hands and he looks in my direction. I slide down to my knees between the house and a bush, hoping the paltry branches are enough cover in the dark. My mom cries and he turns to her, yelling at her to shut up. A box flies through the air, bouncing off the side of the garage spilling dozens of paperback books onto the grass. A familiar orange and blue cover lands a few feet from me. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It’s the last book I read with my dad. I reach for my locket, swallowing back an aching lump when I touch my bare neck.

  “That’s your stupid shit anyways,” Mark says and bangs a fist against the siding before retreating into the garage. My mom falls to her knees and wails. I press my palms against the side of the house. A daddy-long-legs, larger than the one from earlier, creeps along the siding and stops inches from my fingers.

  Mark returns, hurling more nasty words in her direction. More boxes. More begging. More crying. So much crying. I dig my phone from my pocket, and my heart sags into my stomach. No new messages. Adam, how badly I need you right now.

  Closing my eyes, I imagine him here right now, next to me, hiding between the bushes and the house. Dark hair curling behind his right ear, dimples teasing his cheeks, lips twisting into a crooked grin. But he fades, and all I see is Brianna and mistletoe, and all I hear is my mom still sobbing a stream of endless apologies and promises and platitudes. I can’t listen. I can’t stay. I can’t take this anymore.

  Without a glance backward, I push myself to my feet and dart for the woods. I take off so fast that I drop my phone in the bushes, but I don’t go back for it. The tall spindly trees suck me into their darkness. It’s black. Very black. Too black. I stumble and trip over the dead branches and leaves. My nails break in the dirt and bark, while bloody scratches tear along my arms and legs.

  Something is crashing behind me, but I’m afraid to turn…to see. What’s following me—chasing me? Or is it me making all that noise?

  Oh god, I’m losing it.

  My heart explodes and I push myself faster and faster. When
I reach the road, I drop to my knees and drink in the dry frosted air. Shaking muscles, frozen lungs. Calm down. Count to ten and calm down. I wrap my arms around my head and count slowly. Ten…Nine…Eight—.

  Bright lights flood my vision and scorch my eyes. I shield my face in the crook of my elbow as I’m engulfed in headlights. They slow, and my heart speeds up. Run. Hide. What if it’s Mark or my mom or Lucas or Brianna? What if they find me like this? Wild and crazy and afraid of my own shadow. Run. But, I’m frozen to the road. The light slows and brightens and an engine buzzes louder in my ears. Run. Run. I scream in my head, but my rubbery legs won’t listen. Heat sizzles my skin and grease clogs my nose.

  The noise peaks, and I squeeze my eyelids together. Blink. The car passes, leaving only taillights and cold exhaust.

  I draw in a long breath. What am I doing? Adam and Brianna pop into my head. They’re embracing, Adam’s fingers curling into her hair. His lips meet hers and…. Stop. Stop. Stop. I hate this. I hate it all.

  I run.

  Across Star Harbor Road, through more trees, I run. Dodging dirt and ice and snow until the trees thin, and the snow builds, and the lake fills my ears. It’s angry tonight, like me. I need to get there. I need to be there. I run until I reach the water, falling to my knees inches from where it pounds and lashes the shore.

  The waves scream tonight, and I try to scream with them, but my voice is no more than a raspy whisper. “Adam, Adam...I wish you were here.” Tears break through. Salty and slow, they drip across my cheeks and nose and tickle my tongue. They coat my face, and neck and the back of my hand. I hug my knees to my chest, the waterline stopping inches from my shoes.

  My tears slow, drying into a tight mask across my face, and the cold seeps into my bones and numbs my skin. This dramatic episode of mine is going to give me hypothermia. I snort and press my palms against my eyes soaking up the last of my tears. This is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous. Standing up and stepping back from the lake, I turn to go when I’m surrounded by the sound of thousands of bees. Humming and buzzing and flapping. I turn in circles to find them, but the beach is dark and empty. No insects, no people. Just me.

  I press fingers against my ears and release, but the sound only grows.

  Louder and louder and louder.

  It tears into me, piercing my skin and my brain. Closing my eyes, I claw at my ears and the air. Stop. I want it to stop. I need it to stop.

  But it’s even louder.

  I shake and scream. The buzzing rips the air apart, rips me apart. I wrap my arms around my head and fall to my knees. I want to bury myself in the sand. Bury myself in silence.

  Blue light explodes through my eyelids and I blink. It’s bright and hot and burns shadowy images into my eyeballs. Covering my eyes, I squint through my fingertips until I see the lake, glowing like a neon blue light. My heart bounces between my throat and my feet. I stumble as I try to stand. Try to take a step backwards.

  The light and noise is suctioned from the air, leaving the beach quiet and still. What the hell is going on?

  The lake is calmer than I have ever seen it. Not a wave or ripple move across the black glassy surface. I blink and wipe my eyes, and I blink again. There are dots in my vision.

  Blink.

  Still calm. Still quiet. I must be crazy. I step backwards, again and again and again.

  My weak legs give out on the last step and I fall to the ground, caught by the wet sand. I sink into the ground and I look up. The sky is black and dust, the stars winking and laughing at me. Waves brush my feet and I shake. This is ridiculous. I’m being crazy. It’s hypothermia or dementia or some of Mark’s insanity.

  My bruised body aches as I push myself up. Every muscle stings as I rise to my feet and brush sand from my jeans. I glance at the lake.

  There’s a shadow. A moving shadow.

  It grows larger with each staggering step splashing through the waves, and I can make out the human form. Legs. Arms. Torso. I blink and rub my eyes. This is crazy—I’m going crazy. I blink again. It’s moving closer and closer, my heart pounding harder and harder. Move. Run. But I’m mesmerized by the erratic steps that carry the figure into the moonlight and reveal a face.

  A face I know well.

  “What the hell? Adam?”

  Chapter Five

  Seven years ago, I nearly drowned in Lake Superior. On a dare from Brianna, I braved the cold waters, only to be dragged under by a rip current. I was drowning, the cold water filling up my lungs, the current weakening my muscles. I remember fighting until I couldn’t anymore. I remember seeing my dad’s smile and hearing his voice. I remember the blue eyes and black hair and the dimpled smile of the boy who pulled me free.

  Now he is in the lake and I’m on the shore, afraid to move.

  I press my fingertips to my eyes, forcing them to close and open and close and open. He’s not here. Not really here. This is just my crazy imagination.

  Open and close. This isn’t happening. Open and close.

  “Adam?” It’s a whisper lost in the noisy wind, but he looks up. Cloudy face, blinking eyes. He pushes his hands against his forehead and glances from side to side. The water surges and he fumbles, disappearing beneath a wave. No, Adam. My heart stops. Time stops. I’ve got to go—I’ve got to get to him. I’ve got to get him out of the lake.

  There’s a reason why few people swim in Lake Superior—even on the warmest days of July—and I’m reminded why as I slosh into the water. An icy burn penetrates my skin and seeps into my blood and my bones. The lake pools into my shoes and weighs down my steps. Every muscle moves slower and slower, number and number, colder and colder. My toes, my fingers, my legs, my thoughts.

  It’s too cold to move.

  Too cold to think.

  Too cold to breathe.

  Adam reappears, staggering and weaving in the waves. He wears only a thin t-shirt and sweatpants, soaked and sticking to his skin. His eyes are wild, and his face is white, and this lake is too damn cold.

  I need to get to him.

  I rub my stinging eyes. Warm thoughts, I need warm thoughts. Fresh coffee, the first shower in the morning, my down blanket. Keep moving. Campfires on the beach, the seat next to the radiator in Mrs. Dixon’s algebra class.

  Keep moving.

  The water is to my knees when I reach him, but waves push it up my thighs. “Adam,” I say through chattering teeth. “What are you doing here?”

  He shakes his head, parts his lips and blinks several times. No dimples. No twisted grin. No smile in his eyes. Just a pale face and an empty stare. It’s like he’s never seen me before.

  “Adam?” A wave of water pushes into me, nearly knocking me over. “Adam? We need to get out of here.” I hold out my hand, palm facing upwards.

  “Sage?” His voice is hoarse, and his eyes flicker with confusion. He lunges, his arms awkwardly grasping at air until his hand clamps my right shoulder. I step back to balance his weight and mine, grabbing both his arms. Between the force of the water and his body weight, I wobble several times, nearly pulling us both under. I let go of his arms, flailing my hands wildly to regain my balance. He tumbles forward, my fingers wrapping around his arms and stepping backwards until we are both balanced and inches apart, the water swirling and foaming around our legs.

  “Whoa,” I say. “We really need to get out of here.”

  He shakes off my grip and holds his hands in front of him turning his palms back and forth. The empty mask covers his face, and the strange stare in his eyes returns. He’s cold and confused and I’m afraid. So very afraid. I grab his arms hard, forcing him to look at me.

  “We’ve got to get out of here.” Each wave pushes the cold deeper and deeper into my frozen bones. I don’t know how we’re still standing with the waves threatening to topple us and my legs like weak icicles ready to snap, but we are. We face each other, my trembling hands gripping his arms, my eyes locked to his, our faces red and puffy as our breath clouds the air in front of us.

&nb
sp; “Adam?”

  He blinks. “Sage?” His eyes warm and a dimple flashes.

  “We need to get out of here.”

  “Yeah-yeah,” he says and together we step through the swaying waves. Slow steps, clumsy but steady, holding tightly to each other.

  “It’s fr-freezing,” I say through shaking teeth once we reach the beach. “What were you thinking, swimming in the lake?” I tighten my fingers around his wrist.

  “I wasn’t.” He releases me and falls to his knees. He presses his hands against his forehead and groans loudly.

  “Adam.” I drop beside him and touch his shoulder. He turns to look at me and tumbles over. “Adam!” I wrap my arms around him and lift his head, cradling it in my lap. He closes his eyes, and I stroke his forehead, leaning to whisper in his ear. “Adam? C’mon, get up. We’ll go to your house. It’s warm there.” I try to lift his head again, but it sags back onto my lap.

  “Adam?” A tear freezes in the corner of my eye. I glance over the cabins to Stella’s. Her house is a dark shadow in the distance. She’ll never hear my scream from here. “We’re out. We’re okay. We need to get to your house,” I whisper into Adam’s ear. His pale face shines with sweat. I press a hand to his cheek and repeat my words. His skin is hot—strangely hot. Wait, that can’t be right? Does hypothermia cause fevers? I pull my hand away as he opens his eyes, his breath ragged, lips shaky.

  “I can’t move,” he gasps, desperation clouding his expression. An icy tingle crawls over me and it’s not from the cold air or my wet clothes. Adam’s not a wimp. Last year while repairing a cabin roof, he slipped and fell through the awning, tearing a four-inch gash in his right arm and fracturing his wrist. Stella had been in town and the only guests were still sleeping, so he was alone. He got up, bandaged the wound, and went back up on the roof to finish the repairs and fix the awning. For Adam to not be able to get up, this isn’t good.

  “I don’t have my phone so I have to go get your mom. I’ll be right back, okay?” He rolls his head back until he is looking at the stars. I leap to my feet and run, pounding across the beach to the path curving through the cabins. My wet shoes slap and squish along the stone trail. The brown and red siding of Stella’s is black in the darkness.