by Brenda Hiatt
But then I heard Rigel murmur something about switching an elective to coordinate with her schedule and decided maybe I could live with Trina in the same room if it also meant listening to Rigel's deliciously disturbing voice several times a day.
He rose smoothly and went to the front to get a change slip from Mrs. Cummins, and suddenly, like someone had flipped a switch, I was able to think rationally again. I took the opportunity to remind myself that I should be more interested in Jimmy Franklin's schedule than Rigel's. Jimmy didn't know I existed either, but it still seemed disloyal to have temporarily forgotten about the boy I'd been crushing on for almost two years.
Besides, if Trina planned to snag Rigel for herself, Jimmy was probably more within my reach. Kind of like how the moon was more within my reach than the sun. I stifled a sigh.
Rigel came back and I immediately had trouble focusing again, even before he spoke. I was definitely way more aware of him than was reasonable, gorgeous or not. I tried—hard—not to look at him as he sat back down in front of me and Trina resumed her over-the-top flirting.
A minute later the bell rang. Rigel and Trina left together, of course. I hung back, not wanting to get too close, but then, without really meaning to, I found myself quickening my pace. I caught up to them in time to see a slightly confused expression on Rigel's profile, which suddenly cleared. I wondered what stupid thing Trina had been saying to him.
I stayed two steps behind them until Rigel turned to go to the office to change his schedule. It was like I was caught in his orbit—a funny metaphor, I realized, since he was named after a star.
And he still hadn't so much as glanced my way.
In Geometry, determined to get Rigel out of my head, I made a point of sitting only two seats away from Jimmy. Who still didn't notice me. Probably just as well, since I caught myself pasting a stupid, soppy smile on my face every time he turned in my direction. Why was I such a spazz around guys?
"Hey, M!" Deb's arrival was a welcome distraction until she continued, "Have you seen the new guy, Rigel?" I nodded. "What a hottie, huh?"
"Yeah, he's pretty cute." I didn't mention the strange effect he had on me. "I think Trina's already staked him out."
Deb made a sour face. "Figures. But unless he's an idiot, he'll realize soon enough that her beauty is only about one skin cell deep. Her bitchiness goes all the way to the bone."
Rigel came in ten minutes late with his change slip and even across the room I felt that bizarre twanging of my nerves again. He went to sit next to Trina, who had saved him a seat.
Because of homeroom, Geometry was ten minutes shorter than normal. That suited me fine, since I was wearing myself out trying not to sneak glances at Jimmy or Rigel. If I didn't somehow control my attention better, I'd be kissing my scholarship dreams goodbye.
When the bell rang, I hung back with Deb, afraid I'd give myself away if I got too close to Rigel. "What's your next class?"
"English," she said. "How about you?"
"Computer Apps." It was one of the few classes Trina—and Rigel?—wouldn't be in. I told myself firmly this was a good thing.
Deb and I compared schedules as we walked. Though I swear I wasn't trying to watch him, I caught a glimpse of Rigel up ahead, just as he turned a corner. The opposite direction I needed to go. Again, a good thing.
"See you at lunch," Deb said when she turned to go the same way Rigel had. I tried very hard not to envy her.
Mr. Morrison, Bri's dad, was my Computer Apps teacher and he smiled when he saw me—until I moved toward one of the gleaming new computers spaced along the tables that ran the width of the room.
"Um, Marsha, would you mind terribly?" he asked apologetically, pointing toward one of three older machines near the back, the ones we'd used last year for Keyboarding.
"Sure, Mr. Morrison, no problem," I said lightly, ignoring the snickers.
I couldn't really blame him, since last year I'd killed four computers in one semester of Keyboarding. And it wasn't only computers. I hadn't been able to wear a digital watch for . . . well, ever. They always died within a week. I was practically the only kid in school without a cell phone, for the same reason. My aunt even cringed when I used the microwave, since our last two had gone on the fritz while I was nearby.
I used to joke that the static thing was my superpower—but now I just avoided everyone's eyes as I sat down at my older computer, feeling like a freak.
Bri was in my Honors English next period. So was Rigel. Bri made a beeline for him—not hard to guess why—but I intercepted her.
"C'mon, let's sit by the window."
"But—" Bri looked over her shoulder toward Rigel with intense interest.
"We'll be further from the teacher there," I improvised. Without waiting for her reply, I headed to the opposite side of the room and she reluctantly followed me.
As I sat down, I involuntarily glanced Rigel's way only to find him frowning in my direction. Frantically, I went back over what I'd just said but I was sure I hadn't used his name. Unless he could read my mind, I was safe.
I risked another peek and was relieved to see he had turned away, and was now talking to Trina and Nicole Adams, another cheerleader. He was still frowning slightly, but it obviously had nothing to do with me.
"So, what do you think of our hot new guy?" were Bri's predictable next words. "He was in Spanish last period but that humongous flirt, Trina, barely let him look at anyone else—just like now."
It took a surprising amount of effort, but I managed not to look at him again. "Is that all you and Deb can talk about today?"
Bri shrugged, then grinned. "Can you think of anything more interesting?"
I absolutely couldn't, but I wasn't going to admit that. My silence was enough encouragement for Bri to continue.
"I'm going to pry every detail about him out of my dad tonight," she said. "By tomorrow I should have all kinds of juicy stuff to share."
I pretended I wasn't even more eager for those details than she was. "What if there isn't anything juicy? Besides, it's not like any of us have a shot, with Trina all over him."
"Yeah, well, a girl can dream." Bri gave me a sly grin and waggled her eyebrows. "You used to be really good at that."
"Shh!" I glanced around to make sure no one had heard her. I kept my flights of fancy to myself these days, but I did not want anyone reminded of the ridiculous stuff I'd made up back in elementary school.
Other kids might have had imaginary friends, but I'd invented a whole imaginary life. I'd told everyone in second grade that I was really a Martian princess whose parents would one day fly me back to their beautiful palace in the stars. No doubt it was my way of dealing with the fact I was adopted and knew nothing about my birth parents. I'd told other outlandish stories, too, but that one had been my favorite—and I got teased mercilessly for it.
I did wise up enough to stop talking about it by third grade, but the teasing went on for years. "Marsha the Martian" was a nickname I never wanted to hear again. In fact, it was the main reason I tried to make people call me M instead of Marsha. Bri and Deb cooperated, but nobody else did.
"Okay," Bri said. "But you've obviously noticed him if you want me to shut up so bad."
"Of course I've noticed him," I whispered. "He sat right in front of me in homeroom. But Trina sat in front of him—Squires, Stuart—so he never even saw me. So I don't see any point in torturing myself over him."
Bri looked over at him again and I gave into temptation and risked a brief glance. He wasn't talking to Trina now. He seemed to be slowly scanning the room, like he was looking for something—or someone. I looked away before he could catch me staring.
Bri wasn't so inhibited—she actually caught his eye and smiled. Since I refused to look I didn't know he'd smiled back until she turned to me with stars in her eyes. "Wow, he's even cuter when he smiles! I'm at least going to say hi to him after class. No harm in that, and it might piss off Trina."
"Yeah, bonus," I agreed glu
mly, wishing I had Bri's courage.
"Is this the worst reading list ever, or what?" Bri complained as we got up to leave forty-five minutes later.
I scanned the titles and synopses, trying to pay attention to something other than Rigel leaving the room with Trina. "The most depressing, anyway. Lord of the Flies and The Bell Jar in the same six weeks? They'll be lucky if we don't all slit our wrists."
"Seriously. Oh, there he goes! Come on."
Even though I'd meant to hang back, somehow I found myself right behind Bri as she tried to catch up with Rigel. But Trina had him by the elbow, with Nicole flanking his other side, and by the time we reached the door, they were halfway down the hall.
"Crap! Oh, well, we can introduce ourselves at lunch," Bri said, staring after him.
"Yeah, we'll do that."
She looked at me. "Come on, he won't bite. Worst that can happen is he'll laugh at us." That sounded pretty awful to me, but Bri never worried about looking stupid like I did. "I've got Health next," she said then, pulling out her schedule. "How about you?"
"Earth and Space Science." Trina was also in that class, which probably meant Rigel would be, too. "See you at lunch?"
"Yeah, whoever gets there first, save seats. Later!"
I purposely got to class late enough that everyone, including Rigel, was seated—only to discover the only empty spot left was at the table in front of him. Trying not to panic, I scanned the room hoping another seat might magically appear, but the class was full. Steeling myself against any kind of reaction, I moved to the empty chair as nonchalantly as I could.
"Hey, Marsh," Will Chesterton said as I sat next to him. He was shorter than me, and nerdy, but not a bad guy. His main fault was thinking he was way cooler than he actually was.
"Hi, Will. Have a good summer?" I tried hard not to be too obsessed by the fact that Rigel was only three feet from my right elbow. There was no way I actually felt a tingling in that elbow! That was just silly.
"Yeah, we went to Indiana Dunes a couple times and spent a week in Saugatuck," Will said, and I had to focus to remember why he was telling me this. "How about you?"
I could hear Rigel murmuring something to Trina, but I couldn't make out the words. "What? Oh, um, we were going to go to Florida for a week, but Uncle Louie couldn't get off work long enough so we just went to the lake for three days instead."
Rigel's voice stopped so abruptly, I wondered if Trina had poked him or something.
Will dragged my attention back from behind me by saying, "Hey, I'm glad you're gonna be sitting here. You can help me out when we get to the space stuff next semester."
"Oh, yeah, sure, no problem," I agreed absently.
Behind me, I heard Trina start to say something, then it sounded like Rigel shushed her. I glanced at the teacher, but he wasn't looking our way. Huh. I wondered what that was about—and how Trina liked being shushed. It was all I could do not to turn around to see her expression.
I was still trying to think of some totally legit reason to look behind me when Mr. Ferguson started calling the roll. None of the other teachers had bothered. They knew everyone by name already, but this was only Mr. Ferguson's second year at Jewel. I started doodling in my notebook, since I'd be one of the last people called.
As he made his way through the alphabet, sketches of constellations appeared under my pencil, inspired by Will's reminder and the star charts above the whiteboard.
Mr. Ferguson was almost done with the roll. "Trina Squires?"
"Here," she responded.
I braced myself for Rigel's voice.
"Rigel Stuart?"
"Here."
It was one word. One word and it still went through me like a rush of adrenaline. What in the world was wrong with me? Even Jimmy Franklin had never affected me like this.
"Marsha Truitt? Are you here?" Mr. Ferguson sounded impatient and I realized I'd missed my own name.
"Oh, um here!" I answered, feeling my cheeks burn.
Then I looked down at my doodling and they burned even hotter. Not only had I drawn the constellation Orion, I'd been drawing circles around Orion's left foot—the star Rigel. I slammed my notebook shut, hoping no one had noticed.
I peeked sideways at Will, but he was watching the teacher, who had finished roll and was writing on the whiteboard. Slightly reassured, I forced myself to do the same.
It was an intense relief when the bell finally rang for lunch. No matter how I tried, I hadn't been able to ignore my awareness of Rigel behind me. If anything, it had increased as the class wore on. I was out of my seat before the bell stopped, eager to get away from his disturbing influence. But as I reached the door, I felt my feet slowing, like I wanted him to catch up.
Disgusted at my weakness, I sped up, practically jogging to the cafeteria. Not till I'd gone through the lunch line did I glance back and sure enough, there was Rigel. Trina was right behind him, wearing a smug smile, clearly hoping everyone was noticing who she was with.
With a snort aimed as much at myself as at Trina, I went to an empty table near the windows and deliberately sat with my back to the room. I was opening my juice box when Bri slipped into the seat across from me. "Hey! You're into window seats today, aren't you?"
I shrugged. "Sunshine is good for my mood."
"Can I have your banana?" she asked as Deb joined us with her tray.
"Sure. That's why I got one." I never ate bananas, as my friends well knew.
"So, how was—" Bri began, when she was interrupted by a hiss from Deb, who was staring over my shoulder.
I nearly turned, but stopped myself. "What?"
"Don't look now," Deb whispered, "but Rigel Stuart is headed Right. Toward. Us." Beside her, Bri nodded, wide-eyed.
"Stop staring!" I held perfectly still, trying to be inconspicuous.
But then it didn't matter because he was standing right next to me, his nearness zinging through me again like an electrical current. I swallowed once, convulsively, and looked up past his lean, muscled chest to find him regarding me with those amazing greenish eyes in that impossibly perfect face.
"Marsha, isn't it?" he said.
Unable to form words, I nodded.
"Hi. I'm Rigel Stuart."
2
A star is formed
I CONTINUED TO stare up at him, my brain completely frozen, until either Deb or Bri kicked me under the table. In a lame attempt to cover my idiocy, I coughed, then dredged up a smile. I hoped it wasn't a stupid one.
"I know. I mean . . . Hi. Um, so, how do you like Jewel so far?" It was a normal sort of thing to ask. Much better than Why is someone as gorgeous as you talking to a nobody like me?
"More than I expected to." His smile didn't look fake at all. And Bri was right—it did make him look even more amazing, which shouldn't have been possible. That odd electrical pull was stronger than ever and I felt the power of speech leaving me again.
One of my friends gave me another kick under the table. It must have been Bri, because she immediately said, "Hey, Rigel! Welcome to Jewel. I'm Brianna Morrison and this is Debbi Andrews. Have a seat." She indicated the chair next to me.
I felt a stab of panic. I'd never be able to hide the way he affected me if he sat here! Not that I was doing a great job of it now.
"Thanks, but I'm already sitting over there." He motioned toward Trina, Nicole, Amber, and a couple other cheerleaders, a few tables away.
Relief battled with disappointment, but neither lasted beyond his next words.
"Maybe tomorrow? Anyway, I, ah, noticed we have a couple classes together and just wanted to say hi." He was looking at me again—looking at me almost the same way he'd looked at Trina in homeroom. Which was wonderful, but also really weird.
My voice was stuck again, but this time Deb came to my rescue. "It's great to meet you, Rigel. We'll see you tomorrow, definitely!"
"Tomorrow, then." With a last, stunning smile that kept me from getting the polite response I'd composed in my head out of my mou
th, he headed back to Trina, who was looking decidedly pissed.
"Omigod, omigod, omigod!" Brianna breathed as soon as he was out of earshot. "Can you believe that?"
I slowly shook my head, because I really, really couldn't.
"M!" Deb's voice was low and dramatic. "He is so totally into you! It's like he couldn't stop staring at you!"
"That's it," Bri said decisively. "After school, Deb and I are giving you an extreme makeover. You are so going to snatch Rigel right out from under Trina's greedy little nose!"
They started chattering about makeup, hairstyles, acne treatments, and even contacts, but their words just washed over me while I relived those magical few moments when Rigel had been standing here, looking right at me. Staring at me. Saying he wanted to get to know me.
Us. He'd meant all of us, of course. But still . . .
When we got to U.S. History, Bri and Deb were surprised that Rigel was there already—which surprised me. How could they not have noticed him going into the room just thirty feet ahead of us? I was forced to the conclusion that neither of them were quite as obsessed with his every move as I was.
Though I only allowed myself the briefest glance as I crossed the room, I caught him looking my way, which flustered me so badly I nearly knocked a desk over.
"He's watching you, M," Bri whispered. "He can't keep his eyes off of you!"
Deb nodded vigorously. "Even with Amber coming on to him, he's staring this way. And if he's interested now, just wait till he sees you tomorrow! You'll be gorgeous."
I just smiled noncommittally. Not that I didn't want to believe my friends could perform a miracle, but some basics—like my flyaway mousy brown hair, my bad complexion and my nearsightedness—weren't going to change. The very things that made it so unbelievable that super-hunk Rigel Stuart could want to be my friend.
By the end of class, I couldn't have told anyone whether we were studying the American Revolution or the Civil Rights movement. In fact, I was starting to worry I might flunk every class I shared with Rigel. Not good, since the only way I’d get to college—and out of Jewel—was if I got a scholarship.