Colliding Skies

by Debbie Zaken

  “Yes, in a way. Like I said, they’re more advanced. Their brains have developed abilities that we can only dream of.”

  “You mean like the Big Blackout that Abigail caused?”

  “Well, I wasn’t referring just to that, but that’s definitely impressive. She calls it Hyper-hypnosis: the ability to put a large number of subjects under a state of deep physical relaxation across a great distance.”

  I thought about what had happened with Ethan last night, how I’d soared across the space between us in one second, and had been yanked back to my seat the next. I wondered if he had “hyper-hypnotized” me.

  “Isn’t it a little scary that they can manipulate us like that?”

  For a moment a contemplative look crossed his face and he remained silent. I leaned in over my plate of half-eaten toast.

  “Dad, are you okay?” A knot tightened around my almost empty stomach when he didn’t respond. I laid my hand on his arm and met his gaze. “Please answer me. You’re working so close with them. I need to know you’re safe.”

  He rubbed his forehead and gave his head a shake. “Yes, it’s scary to think about. But that’s where choice and circumstance come in. I do think knocking everyone out when they landed was a good tactical decision on their part. It wasn’t a coincidence that the first ones to come around was the Administration. It bought them time to control the situation. Can you imagine the pandemonium that would’ve ensued if not? You see this?” He pointed to the picture of the protestors in the newspaper. “This is nothing compared to what could’ve happened. Too many people would’ve gotten hurt. See that’s another thing. They see us as overly emotional and prone to violence. And in a way, they’re right. Conflict normally arises from emotion. We were afraid of an attack, so we sent out tanks and jet fighters. Aliens land on Earth and all hell breaks loose. That’s where I think they’re different. Because their extreme rationality prevents them from acting on emotion, it may make them more peaceable.”

  “Can they all hypnotize like that? Do they have other abilities?”

  “That I don’t know. Abigail is the only one who has demonstrated that kind of skill and to my knowledge, she hasn’t done it since. But they all have enhanced mental capabilities. Able to solve the most complicated calculations in seconds. Calculations that we can only do with computers.”

  The buzz coming from my phone interrupted our conversation. Dad looked at me when I didn’t turn over the device to check it.

  “Aren’t you going to see who that is?”

  “It’s Taylor. Thanks, Dad.” I squeezed his hand and gave him a little smile, knowing how rare it was for him to share so much about work. Grabbing my phone, I headed for the stairs, the single slice of toast I’d eaten settling in my stomach like a brick.

  ***

  THE WICKER DAY bed with its large canopy protected me from the warm April sun. It was my first time in Taylor’s house, but the backyard was already my favorite part of the Manning estate. Honestly, it was the only part of the ostentatious colonial mansion I liked. Taylor might have called it home, but with its two-story circular foyer, massive spiral staircase, and marble floors, there was nothing homey about it. Compared to the Persian rugs, heavy chandeliers and stuffy décor of the rest of the house, the patio was a chic oasis of tranquility.

  “Introduction to Stellar Astrophysics.” Taylor sat on the edge of the patio daybed and looked at the book in my hand. “Doing some light Sunday reading?”

  I shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “Nerds never rest.”

  “Clearly..” He nuzzled my hair. “But I bet you even Stephen Hawking has fun once in a while.” His glance raked over the stitched sweater and denim cut-offs covering my swimsuit. “You want to go in the pool?”

  “Not right now.” I put the book aside.

  “Do you want to eat?”

  “Maybe in a little while.”

  Curiosity furrowed his brows. “You feeling okay? You’ve been awfully quiet today, more than usual.”

  No, I wasn’t okay. My thoughts kept wandering to Ethan and the guilt was driving me crazy. I swallowed down my confession.

  “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

  I’d tried that excuse to get me out of this barbeque, but both Taylor and Emily had insisted. I’d been hoping to get a chance to tell Emily about my strange encounter with Ethan, but Lucas hadn’t left her side all day.

  Emily and Lucas’s laughter caught my attention. Lucas sent a volleyball over the net draped across the pool. Emily sprung for the ball just in the nick of time to send it flying back, splashing them both as she gave a flirty laugh.

  “So what’s the deal with them? Are they together or not?” Taylor watched them, too.

  “Who knows? Emily says they’re just friends.”

  He snickered. “Just friends? She’s got to be delusional.”

  “Hey, Manning!” Lucas called. “Does this hotel have poolside service or what? We’re starving over here.”

  Taylor laughed and lifted me to my feet. “Come on. We should get you something to eat, too. You’re a little pale today.”

  At lunch, Emily was on full Celeian fangirl mode. Not exactly what I needed.

  “So you really haven’t told us a whole lot about the State Dinner last night,” she said.

  I dropped the potato chip back onto my plate, losing the little appetite I had. It was hard to answer her questions when I could only think about one Celeian in particular.

  “I already told you everything I know. There really isn’t much more to tell.” Just that a gorgeous alien saved me from a false terrorist. No biggie.

  “Well, how many did you meet?” Her eyes grew big, waiting for my response.

  “Only a few.”

  “Did you meet that Abigail chick? Is she really that hot?” Lucas asked, polishing off his ginormous hamburger.

  “Hotter,” I responded.

  “Whoa… I’d like to have seen that.”

  “I’m sure you would.” Emily rolled her eyes and popped a potato chip into her mouth.

  “Told you she’s delusional,” Taylor leaned in and whispered in my ear.

  “Everybody knows they’re crazy hot. What I want to know is what they’re really like.” Her eyes landed on me.

  What are they like? Slightly condescending, a bit annoying, and completely mesmerizing…

  “Skye! Hello?” Emily’s voice brought me out of my daydream.

  “They’re intense...a little intimidating. You know, I didn’t talk to them for more than a few minutes.”

  “But—”

  “Can you just drop it already?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Three pair of bewildered eyes fell on me.

  “Jeez, Skye. What’s with you today?” When I didn’t answer, she added, “Fine, I’ll drop the subject.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed. I wanted to apologize, but I was afraid she’d start the questions all over again.

  Lucas shifted in his seat. “Hey, my parents are going away next weekend. So I was thinking of throwing a little pre-graduation party on Friday night. What do you guys say?”

  Emily’s face lit up. “Love it. I’ll help with décor. It’ll be epic!”

  “I’m there,” Taylor said.

  “Sure,” I replied, avoiding Taylor’s gaze.

  Emily forgot about her fangirling and began rambling about possible themes, color schemes and menu ideas as if it were a sit down dinner and not a high school party.

  “Ooh…what about Greek watermelon and feta cheese salad? Or if we go with an Asian theme, then we could serve sushi rolls. And I definitely want mini desserts. Or a candy bar table.”

  “I was thinking more like pizza,” Lucas said. “Or wings. Everyone loves wings.”

  Her lips tightened in annoyance. “Pizza and wings? It’s a graduation party, not game night. Taylor, you have a more sophisticated pallet than that. Don’t you think if we’re throwing the party of the year, the menu should have a little more class?”


  Taylor shrugged. “The man’s right. People love wings.”

  “Yeah, man. Bro’s got my back.” Lucas gave him a fist bump, making Emily’s eyes practically roll to the back of her head.

  ***

  “PENNY FOR YOUR thoughts.” Taylor who’d been quiet the whole drive back to my house, pulled me out of my reverie of Ethan.

  “Huh?” I noticed we were pulling into my driveway.

  “Wow…You’re a million miles away today. Maybe I can get you to come back to me.”

  He gently tilted my face to kiss me. And I wanted him to, but a part of me hesitated. Still, I closed my eyes and his mouth pressed down on mine. In that instant, I saw a pair of electric sapphire eyes peering down at me. And just like I had the night before, I felt the electricity, but this time the currents produced a sweltering heat. It was Taylor kissing me, but it was Ethan I saw. The electricity increased and the heat became oppressive, burning me from the inside out. Taylor’s mouth lifted from mine, leaving me with a peculiar hot/cold sensation.

  “Are you all right? You’re shivering.” Taylor released me from his arms, and put his hand on my cheek and forehead. “Jesus, Skye! You’re burning up.”

  “I am?” A tremor shook my shoulders.

  “Come on. Let’s get you inside. You must be coming down with something.”

  Holding onto Taylor as we walked to the front door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I hadn’t contracted a mere cold or flu, but something far more afflicting—and potentially incurable.

  I SPENT TWO nights sick in bed with a high fever and chills. No other symptoms. No coughing, runny nose or aches. Nothing but a temperature that ranged between a hundred and two and a hundred and three. Well, that and I couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, the strange sensation that he’d been there when Taylor had kissed me. And worse, the longing for him to be the one kissing me.

  Despite waking up on Tuesday morning fever free, Mom insisted on keeping me home from school for one more day. Big mistake. Not scholastically; we were so close to graduation that I wouldn’t be missing much. But I needed the distraction from my thoughts of Ethan. I tried everything: television, Internet, music, books…nothing worked. Ethan permeated my mind again and again. Was it pure luck that he’d found me when he did or had he been looking for me? What did he mean about chasing starlights? And what about the hallucinations? Since our brief but intense encounter I couldn’t stop thinking about him, or dreaming about him.

  Every night it was the same dream. I soared through the air, pulled by some strange force until I came to land safely in his arms. The guilt caused by my straying thoughts drove me crazy.

  After an hour of wandering around the empty house, I gave up. I put on a pair of jeans, a blue tank top, gave my hair a quick brush, wrapped a cream-colored scarf around my neck, and looked at myself in the mirror. I was still pale, but healthy enough to go out.

  Traffic in D.C. was never easy, but now it was practically impossible. The heavy military presence and the thousands of people pilgrimaging to the Pillar of Knowledge—the Ground Zero of the alien landing made driving unbearable. I took the Metro instead.

  The moment I stepped off the train, I realized why Mom and Dad had insisted Chase and I stay away from the city. The National Mall had become the national circus. Mobs of people on every corner, soldiers patrolling the streets, police trying to ease the flow of traffic— all pure bedlam. Elbowing people right and left, I plowed my way to the White House until I got to Lafayette Square. On one side of the street, hundreds of tourists and on-lookers clicked photos of the Presidential home with their phones and cameras. Nothing too unusual there. But on the other side, separated by police barricades and soldiers, were the protestors—angry-looking people with signs that read: No Alien Apocalypse, and Make Earth Great Again. They yelled a cacophony of slogans at the passersby.

  Wanting to get away from the craziness, I left the White House behind and prodded on to Dupont Circle. The funky neighborhood had always been my favorite D.C. hang out, and although it was busy, it offered some refuge from the mayhem that was the National Mall. I went off the main street and into a tiny, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that only locals frequented. A place Emily and I had stumbled upon a while back. I took my large latte and chocolate croissant and sat down with my literary choice: Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s ‘Of Love and Other Demons’. It was an inherently sad love story, and probably not the smartest choice, but so full of color it gripped me from the start.

  I was so engrossed in the book, I must have tipped my cup by accident. Remnants of my coffee splattered on the table. I got up and grabbed napkins. As I wiped the small mess, I had a strange sensation of being watched. I glanced up and stopped breathing. And so did everyone around me, a collective gasp sweeping through the small coffee shop.

  Ethan loitered by the door, his galvanizing eyes hidden behind dark, average-looking sunglasses. He stared in my direction, a hint of a smile flitted across his lips. Naomi, the stunning brunette stood next to him; her violet eyes also covered by a pair of dark, oversized frames. Two polished men in expensive suits— important White House officials, from the looks of it—scanned the crowd. Behind them, two secret service agents dressed in dark suits, aviator sunglasses, and ear-pieces, stood guard.

  I gaped at Ethan, my mouth hanging open like it had a life of itself. He was even more glorious than I remembered. I smiled and waited for a sign of recognition. It never came. He turned his head, and a stoic mask formed on his face—a mask I’d seen before. Disappointment built up in my stomach and surged through my chest.

  A cloud of tension suffocated the air in the tiny coffee shop. Every pair of eyes followed the odd group making their way to an empty table in the back. One of the politicians went to order coffees while the other sat fidgeting awkwardly, aware of the agitation in the customers.

  People shifted in their seats, pretending to busy themselves with their tablets or phones, but their attention was cinched on the two aliens. A guy at the table next to me aimed his phone at them to take a picture. One of the secret service agents standing behind the group gave him a menacing shake of the head, and he put down the phone.

  Ethan’s face had the same unreadable countenance I’d seen all through dinner at the White House, his gaze fixed on the female alien and the two politicians. I knew then there’d be no coming over, waving or even looking my way. He was going to sit there and pretend he didn’t know me. Again. I sank into my chair and hid the humiliation and anger on my face behind my book, pretending to read.

  I debated: stay or make a run for it? No. I was too proud to show him how much his snub hurt me. For seven long minutes my restless gaze jumped between the book and the clock on my phone, but always avoiding his eyes. Still, it didn’t matter that I couldn’t see him. He knew I was there. And he knew that I knew that he knew.

  I snapped my book shut and tried to stand when something gripped me. A pressure so heavy it felt like a three hundred pound weight was pressing me to my seat. The force was suffocating. My hands began to tremble, the book slipping from my fingers and landing on the table with a thump.

  Ethan looked up and our eyes locked. The pressure intensified, pulling me like a magnet. My torso leaned forward, almost lifting my body out of the seat. I gripped the arms of the chair, afraid that at any moment I would be dragged to him chair and all. My heart drummed in my ears, my breathing coming in erratic spurts. But as quickly as it started, the tension vanished. The weight lifted. The magnet broke its grip, and my spine hit the back of my chair. I jumped out of my seat, and burst out the door.

  Outside, I took big gulps of air, like I’d just resurfaced from under water. After a few seconds, my breath returned to normal and I began to stride away, anger, confusion and humiliation fueling my every step.

  “Skye, wait!”

  I came to a halt, recognizing the deep, melodic voice. I turned around and found Ethan standing a few feet away. “Oh, so you know who I am.”

  “Of cou
rse I do.” A sheepish look crossed his face. “You are right. It was rude of me to not to say hello.”

  “Is that like a Celeian thing? To just sit there and pretend you don’t know someone? Because you keep doing it.”

  He winced at my words. “I am sorry, Skye. Please accept my apology. I know it might not seem that way right now, but I do not want to offend you.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, hating myself for being so intrigued by him, hating him for being so darn hot. I hated the way his mere proximity scrambled all the rational thoughts in my head. Now he had to play that ‘I’ll pretend not to see you’ game? “Fine, apology accepted. Again. But if you’re worried about offending me, why the hell do you ignore me in the first place? Isn’t it easier to just say hello?”

  He gave me a humorless grin. “Unfortunately, it is not. I should not be talking to you. But I could not let you walk out without explaining.”

  “Explain what? That apparently Celeians are rude?” I folded my arms over my chest. “Or maybe it’s just you who’s rude?” Just because I’d accepted his apology, didn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed.

  Ethan looked around. People were starting to throw us curious glances, or rather him. The sunglasses covering his eyes did not detract from his inhuman radiance. Across the street, a trio of tourists pointed at Ethan, phones in hand.

  “Not here. In a matter of seconds there will be a crowd surrounding us,” he said. “Come on.”

  He placed his hand on my arm. I jumped at the jolt of electricity that coursed through it, and he let go. Without a word, he walked quickly, his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone. I followed.

  We stopped in front of a black car with dark tinted windows. He clicked the doors open and ordered, “Get in.” At the look of confusion on my face he added, “Do you want me to explain or not?”

  I cocked one eyebrow at him. “I thought you said no alien abductions.”

  His lips curled up, softening his perfect face. “I promise to safely return you to your home.”