“No gravy?” she teased.
In his exhausted state, poor Aelyx didn’t get the joke. “I didn’t think of that.”
“I’m kidding,” she said, taking the dish from him. “This smells amazing. Thank you.”
When she led him inside and settled on the floor with their supper, Troy perked up from the top bunk. Propping on one elbow, he leaned over and sniffed the air like the vulture he was. “What’cha got there?”
She told him, “Nothing for you,” at the same time Aelyx said, “Help yourself.” That was all the encouragement Troy needed to hop down from his bed and join them in sitting cross-legged on the floor.
The conversation ceased for a while as they shared the meal between them. The birds didn’t taste anything like turkey—or quail, for that matter—but Cara enjoyed their bold, gamey flavor, especially when paired with the seasoned stuffing. However, the same couldn’t be said for the “mashed potatoes.” The vegetables had a slightly stringy texture, kind of like broccoli stalks, which didn’t translate well into a mashed dish. One bite was more than enough for her. Troy didn’t even touch the veggies, and that was saying a lot.
Aelyx ate more slowly than she’d ever seen, mostly because he had to stop every few bites to cover a yawn. He looked so pitiful that Cara had to resist the urge to hug him to her chest and rock him to sleep. When he caught her watching him, his droopy gaze warmed, and his lips slid into an easy grin of pure contentment, like she was his home base. She recognized the sentiment because she felt the same way.
In that moment, Cara knew what her gift would be.
“Come on,” she said, and took his hand to pull him up from the floor. Then she towed him to the bed and pulled aside one curtain.
Aelyx squinted at the computer resting on her mattress, reading the screen. “Are we watching a movie?”
“Maybe later.” She closed the laptop and set it on the top bunk. “For now, let’s just take it easy.”
Ever vigilant, Troy jabbed a finger toward his bunk. “I’ll be right there. Just so you know.”
“Ignore him,” Cara said, gently pushing Aelyx to lie down.
She didn’t have to ask him twice. Aelyx stretched out on his back and rested on the makeshift pillow, sighing with audible relief. He folded one muscled arm behind his head and extended the other in an invitation for Cara to join him. He didn’t need to ask her twice, either. She ducked inside the curtain and lay down on her side, then snuggled against him as close as the laws of physics would allow. Soon her cheek was nestled in the curve of Aelyx’s shoulder with his arm wrapped tightly around her.
“This is nice,” he whispered.
“Mmm,” she agreed. Nice didn’t begin to describe it.
Cloaked in the darkness of their small sanctuary, she breathed in his scent and clung to him for a while. The closeness felt so unbelievably good that it made her eyes prickle to imagine how long she’d have to wait before lying in his arms again.
Choosing to live in the moment, she pushed aside all thoughts of ticking clocks and smoothed her hand up the length of Aelyx’s chest, making sure to enjoy each hard contour along the way. Scrumptious as he was, she couldn’t resist making a few extra passes before reaching her destination. Once there, she trailed her fingertips up the side of his neck and behind his ear. He loved it when she played with his hair, so she skated her fingernails across his scalp in a light dance that brought goose bumps to the surface of his skin.
He made a throaty noise of pleasure that may have given her brother a heart attack. “If you keep doing that,” Aelyx whispered, “I’m going to fall asleep.”
“That’s kind of the point,” she whispered back.
“But it’s our las—”
“Shhh,” she told him, and kissed his chest. “No more talking.”
What Cara had finally realized was that tonight wasn’t the time to make memories. They would have plenty of opportunities for that in the years to come. By trying to cram a week’s worth of togetherness into one day, she’d shown a lack of faith, doubting that they’d be reunited on the colony. These final hours until Aelyx’s departure were no more or less important than the millions of other hours they would share over a lifetime.
Faith.
That was her Christmas gift to him—to both of them, really.
She brushed her fingers through his hair and listened to his breathing deepen. The grip of his arm around her began to slip, his muscles occasionally twitching as they finally shut down for some overdue rest. She continued lulling him to sleep until his pulse slowed and his ribs rose and fell like the tide.
And then he was out.
She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment watching him slip into dreams, because in a way, he’d left her. This was what she wanted, but she already missed the low timbre of his voice and the strength of his touch—the pieces of him that’d made her fall in love with this spectacular boy from another world.
The temptation was strong to hold on and spend all night listening to his heartbeat. But that wouldn’t demonstrate faith. To show real belief meant falling asleep with him, to pass those hours unaware of his warmth and his scent. To slide into unconsciousness and simply let the time expire. It wouldn’t be easy, but she could do that.
She indulged for another few minutes before closing her eyes.
“Good night, l’ihan,” she whispered, and then followed him down.
NOTE FROM MELISSA
Thank you for reading Until Midnight. In case you were unaware, this story is part of the “Alienated” series, taking place after book one ends and before the sequel begins. If you would like to see more of Aelyx and Cara, I invite you to:
1. Check out Alienated, the novel that started it all. You can read the first three chapters beginning on the next page.
2. Enjoy a sneak peek of Invaded. Following the Alienated sample, you’ll find an exclusive four-chapter excerpt of the sequel. If you enjoy it, I hope you will pre-order Invaded, which releases February 3, 2015.
3. Join my mailing list. I send quarterly e-newsletters to update my fans on contests, giveaways, and new releases. You can sign up at http://melissa-landers.com/alienated.
Happy Reading,
Melissa
Chapter One
Winning. Cara Sweeney had made it her business, and business was good. Honor Society president? Check. Young Leader Award? Check. State debate champion two years running? Double check. And when the title of valedictorian had eluded her, she’d found a way to snag that, too.
Over the summer, she’d staged an academic ambush of such epic proportions, Midtown High’s geek-elite were still chewing their pencils in shock. Sneaky as a senator, she’d retaken AP Calculus, raised her grade from 92 to 100, and usurped Marcus Johnson as valedictorian. Her stealth attack had caught him with his Hanes down, and unless her grades tanked this year—which was so not going to happen—the sulking loser had no chance of reclaiming his rank.
But she had a feeling Marcus would laugh his lacrosse pads off if he could see her now: slumped in the principal’s wingback guest chair, mouth agape as she tried to form a coherent response to the “awesome news” Mr. Ferguson had just tossed into her lap like a live grenade.
“I don’t think you understand what a big deal this is. Not only for you, but for the whole school.” Principal Ferguson’s brown caterpillar eyebrows inched toward a receding hairline. “The L’eihrs chose you over every other valedictorian in the country. We’re talking thirty thousand seniors!”
“Mmm-hmm.” Cara nodded blankly, trying to make sense of it. Maybe there’d been a mistake. She’d cut soccer, track, volunteer tutoring, and chess club a couple years ago when Mom got sick, and it took a lot more than academics to impress a scholarship committee these days. So why hadn’t they chosen someone more accomplished?
“I know the money comes with a few strings attached, but this is the opportunity of a lifetime.” Mr. Ferguson pointed a marble fountain pen at her and “fired” it like
a tiny pistol. “Especially for a budding journalist. Think of the blog potential here.”
A few strings attached? Holy Mary, mother of all understatements! Cara shifted in her seat, the backs of her thighs sticking to the warm leather. “Oh, right—yeah, of course I’m happy. It’s just a shock. I didn’t even apply.”
“No application. Every high school submitted its top candidate, and the L’eihrs took it from there. You’ll never guess why they picked you.” Without giving her a chance to try, he announced, “They saw your footage from last year’s state debate finals. They admired your”—he held up two fingers and made air quotes—“passion.”
“What?” Cara scrunched her brows. Passion? She’d hammered the opposing team until their captain had cried and run off stage. The L’eihrs, who had the emotional range of tree bark, liked her atomic temper?
“This is huge!” Pausing a moment, Mr. Ferguson twisted his mouth while jabbing his index finger at a closed manila file folder. “And you don’t seem thrilled. Last year you said you were interested in exchange programs.”
Well, yeah. But there was foreign, and then there was foreign.
Mr. Ferguson leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk’s polished mahogany surface. His eyes softened behind thick glasses, voice lowering to a whisper. “You’re not afraid of the L’eihrs, are you?”
“No!” Cara scoffed, wiping her clammy palms on the front of her skirt. “Of course not.”
Okay, maybe a little. She’d been as fascinated as everyone else when the aliens made contact two years ago, but their secretive nature made her stomach feel heavy, like she’d eaten a dozen Taco Bell double-decker burritos in one sitting. And as much as she wanted to travel, leaving Earth wasn’t what she’d had in mind.
“Good. I don’t want you doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. The young man—uh, I mean the young…uh, well, technically we have the same DNA, so I guess I could call him—”
A sharp voice barked, “Student ambassador,” and Cara jumped in her seat. The old military guy lurking near the corner had camouflaged so perfectly into the green curtains that she’d almost forgotten he was there.
Mr. Ferguson nodded. “Right. The ambassador who’ll stay with your family sounds just like you—a top student, even by L’eihr standards, which is saying a lot.” He picked up a small photograph and handed it across the desk. “He just turned eighteen. His name’s Aelyx.”
He pronounced it A-licks. Cara gave the photo a perfunctory glance and handed it back. Whatever. They all looked the same to her.
“Wow, this scholarship is a lot more…” What was the right word? Lavish? Excessive? “…generous than the others I’ve applied for, but I don’t know how my parents will feel.”
What a bald-faced lie—she half expected her nose to grow. Mom and Dad would streak the Super Bowl halftime show just to meet a L’eihr, let alone live with one.
“No problem. I called your folks this morning, and they’re totally on board.”
Frick. Of course they were. Mom was probably emptying Troy’s old bedroom at that very moment, finally clearing out his tacky, testosterone-fueled shrine to heavy metal and Harley-straddling bimbos.
Mr. Ferguson stood and pulled some papers from his file. “And from what the colonel says, your brother’s over the moon”—he let out a hearty laugh—“to be the first human on planet L’eihr.”
“Wait.” She bolted forward, gripping the armrests. “Troy’s going there?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head.
“As soon as he heard you were selected, he volunteered to serve as human liaison for the program. He’ll get acclimated to the L’eihr culture now so he can help you and the other two exchange students adjust when it’s your turn next year. Think of him as your intergalactic mentor.” He grinned. “A big brother, no pun intended.”
If this were Mr. Ferguson’s idea of a few strings attached, she’d hate to see what he considered complicated.
The colonel came to life again, stepping forward and giving a curt nod. “Your brother’s a fine Marine. He’s never turned down an opportunity to serve his country.”
Exactly. Which was why Cara hadn’t seen the jerkwagon in almost two years. Apparently the Middle East wasn’t far enough away for Troy—he needed to leave the galaxy now. What was next, time travel?
Principal Ferguson strode to the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet and happier than a pigeon with a French fry. “I’ll make some copies of the exchange contract while Colonel Rutter explains the details.”
Cara turned her head and caught a glimpse of her dazed reflection in the debate team trophy cabinet. The blue eyes of the concavely distorted girl staring back looked haunted, like the stuffed owls in science lab, and long wisps of fiery auburn hair made her cheeks look even paler.
Get a grip, she chided herself. Maybe it won’t be so bad.
Sure, living with a L’eihr for the rest of the year would blow chunks, but she’d get a full ride out of the deal—anywhere she wanted, even Dartmouth! She’d never dreamed she could afford the Big Green, considering Mom’s treatments had knocked the family into a black hole of debt six figures deep.
And Mr. Ferguson was right about the blog potential. Humans knew next to nothing about L’eihrs, and she’d be sharing a bathroom with one. That gave her an instant leg up on every other journalist in the country.
What if she started a brand-new site, something with a catchy title and an outer-space theme? If A-licks would open up and spill some tidbits about life back home, she could run a special-interest series and attract followers from around the globe. And when it was her turn to visit L’eihr, all the photos and news she’d gather could land her a book deal. She might even be able to sell her proposal to a publisher before she left.
The more Cara thought about it, the more she realized the scholarship wasn’t the real prize here. This exchange could launch her career into the stratosphere. When she looked at it that way, putting up with a creepy houseguest was totally worth it.
“Buck up, Miss Sweeney.” Colonel Rutter’s firm voice brought her to attention, and she jerked upright like a soldier. He stood tall and lean behind the principal’s desk, narrowing his shrewd gray eyes as he spoke. “You look shell-shocked, and you should be. This program’s not for namby-pambies. I’m gonna lay it all out, and if you can’t handle this, you’d better say so. Understood?”
“Uh, yes.”
He glanced at his shoulder and smoothed a derelict wrinkle into submission before sitting down. This man didn’t take any crap, not even from his clothes. “The World Trade Organization chose me to head the LEAP: the L’eihr Exchange Ambassador Program. America, France, and China will each get a student ambassador. The goal is to help humans and L’eihrs understand each other better. Now let’s be frank. We want an alliance with L’eihr.”
Cara nodded. Unlike most of her classmates, she made it her business to know what went on in the world beyond the school’s graffiti-stained walls.
“Our polls show Americans don’t support it. Too many suspicions. But the LEAP’s gonna change all that.”
“Seriously? How?”
“Aelyx will be your shadow. Where you go, he goes. Do you work?”
“I waitress on the weeken—”
“Quit.”
She cleared her throat. “Just quit?”
“The LEAP pays a small stipend, so consider it your job. Full time. You’ll represent the whole country, so you gotta go all in.” He leaned forward and raised his brows as if expecting a reply.
“Understood.” That seemed fair. The higher the reward, the greater the responsibility. She’d rock this exchange like a hurricane. Besides, she wouldn’t exactly miss slinging footlongs at the Dreamy Weenie. “I’ll give my two weeks’ notice after school.”
“Make it one week.” Then he added, “Every other Wednesday, a camera crew will come to your house to tape interviews. They’ll air Fridays at nineteen hundred hours.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Televised interviews? Cara wiped her palms on her skirt again, rethinking a career at the Dreamy Weenie. “We’ll be on TV?”
“You asked how we’re gonna ease suspicions. This is how. By bringing a harmless L’eihr into everyone’s living rooms. People fear what they don’t understand, so they’re gonna get to know Aelyx. More importantly, they’ll see you”—he pointed an index finger at her nose, just like the old Uncle Sam poster—“at ease beside Aelyx, showing the world there’s nothing to fear.”
“But—”
“Now back to your responsibilities. You need to help Aelyx collect water and soil samples. Their scientists want to analyze contaminants. And I’ll expect you in Manhattan for the LEAP gala in three weeks.”
“An excused absence, so don’t worry.” Principal Ferguson breezed back into the room, oblivious to the fact that Cara’s pulse was pounding at the base of her throat. Probably because he wasn’t the one going on camera in front of eleventy billion people. He handed her a stack of papers still warm from the copier. “Here’s the contract and the scholarship details. Read this over with your folks tonight, then sign it and bring it back in the morning.”
Colonel Rutter thrust a business card at her chest. “Call if you have any questions. See you in three weeks.” Then he stood, turned on his heel, and left the room before she could ask if skipping the interviews was a deal breaker.
This was happening so fast. She could barely catch her breath. Less than five minutes ago, her greatest dilemma had been which movie to see Saturday night with her boyfriend, Eric, and now…
Oh, no! Eric! She’d forgotten all about him. He and his friends hated L’eihrs—not just a pinch of ignorance and a dash of mistrust, but serious loathing. He’d go full-on banana sandwich when she told him.
Until Midnight (Alienated) Page 4