Starstruck

by Brenda Hiatt

CHAPTER 19: Implosion

  School the next day was even worse than I expected.

  I barely remembered walking home after Rigel left me in the arboretum. Once home I'd somehow maintained the illusion that my world hadn't caved in, or so I assumed by my aunt's and uncle's lack of concern. I'd even managed to hold off crying until I was in bed. But then I fell apart, sobbing so hard I had to muffle my mouth with my pillow so my aunt wouldn't hear and come to investigate.

  Waiting for the bus, I told myself I should have realized it was too good to last. For two weeks everything had been perfect. Beyond perfect. I'd never been happier in my life. But now it was over. Maybe not forever, but probably for a long time.

  I almost hoped the bad guys would get here quick and get it over with, one way or the other. Except that even if I survived whatever they did, I'd probably end up exiled to some Martian compound.

  Without Rigel.

  In a daze of loss and lack of sleep, I boarded the bus.

  "Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed," Trina snarked as I walked past her. Then she dropped her backpack right in my path so I'd trip.

  Instead, I kicked it—hard—and it skittered to the back of the bus. I didn't apologize. I didn't say anything at all, even though she was sputtering and calling me names. I just sat down a few seats behind her and stared straight ahead.

  Bri and Deb were more observant than my aunt and uncle. "Omigod, what's wrong?" Deb demanded as Bri slid in next to me a few minutes later.

  "You look like your cat died," Bri stated, "except I know you don't have a cat."

  I figured I might as well tell them—they'd find out soon enough anyway. And as soon as word got around school, they were likely to be the only friends I had. "Rigel and I broke up." My voice sounded as dead as I felt.

  "What?" they chorused. "But you two were so perfect together," Bri said at the same time Deb asked, "What happened?"

  Though I'd spent half the night thinking about how I'd answer that question, I still hadn't decided what to say. I couldn't bring myself to take Rigel's suggestion of putting the blame on him, not when he was doing this to keep me safe.

  "I'm . . . not sure," I finally said when they started to bounce impatiently. "We . . . kind of had a fight."

  That wasn't good enough for Bri. "So? Who dumped who?"

  Like anyone could ever believe I’d dump Rigel? But even though it was true, sort of, I couldn't bring myself to admit out loud that he'd done the dumping. Especially with half the bus listening in.

  "It was sort of mutual," I mumbled.

  Now Deb was shaking her head. "No way. It has to just be some huge misunderstanding, like the shock thing. We'll sit you two down and make you talk things out, and—"

  "No, Deb, it's over. Really. Please don't make things harder."

  She didn't look satisfied, and from the looks she and Bri exchanged I could tell they weren't going to give up that easily. But much as I wished they could be right, I knew they weren't. Rigel had said, "Stay away from me." And he'd meant it.

  Even though we'd had our heads together for the whole conversation, by the time we got off the bus, the news had already spread. Trina was waiting on the curb with a big, nasty smile when I stepped down.

  "Gee, no wonder you're in a foul mood, Marsha. Guess Rigel finally came to his senses, huh? How's it feel to be the dumpee?"

  "You should know, Trina," Bri said before I could answer. "You've had plenty of experience."

  Trina glared, then turned away, but the smirk never left her lips. I had no doubt the whole school would know before first period started.

  I wasn't wrong.

  I took my time getting to Geometry, wanting to put off as long as possible the embarrassment of Rigel ignoring me, as he'd pretty much promised to do. When I walked in, one of the last to arrive, a storm of whispering broke out, along with a few giggles. I knew Rigel was there even before I broke down and glanced his way. I'd felt him the moment I entered the room.

  And sure enough, when I did look at him, he was looking the other way. My feet slowed a little without my consent and I had to force myself to keep walking, to take an empty desk on the far side of the room. The whispers got louder and I even heard a gasp or two. A girl—I couldn't tell who—hissed, "It's true!"

  Slumping into my seat, I stared straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, even Deb. I did not want to see the pity on her face. Any more than I wanted to see pity—or gloating, depending on whether they liked me or not—on anyone else’s face.

  The whole day was like that, though it was worse in the four classes I shared with Rigel. Lunch was the very worst of all. Bri and Deb sat with me, but so did a couple of the football players they were almost-sort-of seeing. Neither of the guys seemed to know what to say to me and I knew my friends didn't want them to leave, so I just pretended to eat without taking part in the conversation . . . or taking my eyes off my tray.

  As I sat there, feeling as awkward as my numbness would allow, Trina and her posse went past, talking and giggling. When she was at her closest point to me, Trina loudly said, "Well, a guy like that can only stand slumming for so long, you know. It's sure to make him appreciate what else is available." They all laughed uproariously as they moved away.

  I hoped fervently that Rigel wouldn't go through with his plan of pretending to go out with Trina. Or, if he did, that the bad guys really would mistake her for me and kill her. It would serve her right.

  The next day was only marginally better. There was less whispering and staring, but Rigel still resolutely ignored me. I had enough pride that I refrained from making puppy-dog eyes his way, but it was hard. I missed him even more than I'd expected to. More than I would have thought was humanly possible.

  Plus, he actually sat at Trina's table at lunch. As soon as I saw him sit down, I moved to the other side of my table so I wouldn't have to see them together. Needless to say, in Health class that afternoon, Trina had to gloat.

  "I thought it was really sweet of Rigel to ask if I was still going out with Bryce," she said, ostensibly to Amber, but loudly enough for the whole class to hear. "He said he didn't want to hurt Bryce, or come between us if we were serious."

  It made me unwillingly remember when Rigel—and I—had hurt Bryce, with that electric jolt that had been my first clue something enormously weird was going on. Which had led to me finding out the truth about Rigel and then myself. Though painful, it was also a reminder that I was a princess, even if no one in Jewel knew it except the Stuarts.

  Hanging onto that thought, I lifted my chin higher and ignored all the "Aw" sounds Trina's friends were making as they congratulated her on Rigel's renewed interest. His interest in her was fake. Part of the plan. I just had to cling to that fact, and to the knowledge of who I was, and let anything Trina said or did roll off my back.

  I wished it were that easy.

  As the week wore on, nothing changed except that no one was paying much attention to me anymore. Just as Rigel had predicted. Well, almost no one.

  I was leaving first period when Jimmy Franklin—yeah, the guy I'd had a crush on for almost two years—stopped to talk to me.

  "Hey, M. How you doing?"

  Startled, I blinked up at him, though I was actually more aware of Rigel's retreating back than of Jimmy's wholesome, handsome Midwestern face. It was the first time he'd ever actually spoken to me, other than the time we'd been part of the same group for a social studies project in eighth grade.

  "Um, fine?" Rigel was almost out of sight now. "What's up?"

  He shrugged, looking a little bit embarrassed. In two years, I'd never imagined the godlike Jimmy Franklin ever being embarrassed, especially around me.

  "I just . . . well, I was wondering if you might go to the Homecoming dance with me, now that you're . . . I mean—"

  I knew what he meant. But I shook my head. "That's really nice of you, Jimmy, but I don't think I'll be going to the dance. Thanks, though."

  He looked surprised, bu
t not upset. "Oh. I kinda thought . . . But hey, that's cool. Maybe some other time?"

  "Yeah, maybe." I wasn't going to make any promises I had no intention of keeping. "Talk to you later, Jimmy."

  A grin broke across his face and a detached part of my brain noticed it made him even cuter, though it had no effect on me. "Yeah, definitely! Later, M."

  As we went our separate ways, I couldn't help musing on the fact that just two months earlier, this would have been the answer to all of my romantic dreams. But that was before Rigel. My dreams were completely different now. And had even less chance of coming true.

  "What do you mean you're not coming to the game?" Bri demanded Friday afternoon as we got on the bus to go home. "You always come to the games. Just because you and Rigel—"

  "I'm not coming, okay?" I repeated. "My aunt doesn't like me going to the away games anyway, so I thought I'd humor her this week. Maybe it'll put her in a better mood for the next time I want something."

  She gave me a dark look as we sat down, then turned to Deb for support. "She has to come, doesn't she, Deb? If you don't, it'll be like admitting, I don't know, that Trina's won and you've lost. And I can't stand it. What does he even see in her?"

  "Besides the obvious?" I said. Since Tuesday, Rigel had been spending almost as much time with Trina as he used to spend with me. So much that I couldn't help wondering—a little—if this breakup was just about keeping me safe.

  "Trina's obvious, all right," Deb said with a snort and Bri laughed in agreement. "She can't hold a candle to you, M, and Rigel can't be so blind he doesn't know it."

  I shrugged, pretending an unconcern I didn't feel. "What he does is his business, not mine. Not anymore."

  Some of the pain I was feeling must have leaked into my voice, because they left me alone after that, except for furtive, pitying glances I did my best to ignore. I found myself secretly hoping Rigel would play badly tonight, and that it would make him miss me. Plus, it would piss off Trina. It wasn't nice, but I couldn't help it.

  I expected the weekend to be a relief from the stress of Rigel ignoring me, and of me pretending I didn't care. But I was tired and achy, probably from trying so hard all week to convince everyone that I was okay when I totally wasn't.

  I was glad it rained on Saturday, sparing me from mowing the lawn. I didn't think I was up to it. And in taekwondo class, I wasn't surprised that I had backslid from my previous progress.

  "Is anything wrong, Marsha?" Master Parker asked after class. "The belt test is next week, you know. I didn't think you would have any problem, but—"

  "I'm fine, sir," I replied quickly. "I just have a cold or something. I'm sure I'll be okay in time for the test." In fact, I'd forgotten all about the belt test and couldn’t bring myself to care much. But Aunt Theresa had already paid for it, so I did need to pass. "I'll review everything this week," I promised.

  Sunday, neither Rigel nor his parents were at church. Had they changed churches just to avoid me? Uncle Louie commented on their absence, asking me if they were out of town, but all I could do was shrug. And feel miserable.

  "You picked a good game to skip," Debbi said when she and Bri joined me on the bus Monday morning. "We won, but only by one point—and that was against Edgewood. We nearly beat them last year, when we sucked so bad. Rigel's game was way off."

  "Really?" My interest was immediately snagged. "I saw the score in the paper Saturday, but there wasn't any article with it." I'd sneaked a peek at the sports section after Uncle Louie finished it. "What happened?"

  Bri took over with the technical stuff. "He missed five easy passes and only ran in one touchdown, and that was only because one of their defenders blew the tackle. He even got sacked twice. He's never been sacked before! At least, not this season."

  "Maybe he misses you more than he's letting on," Deb suggested.

  I felt suddenly guilty for wishing exactly this on Friday, now that it had come true. Yeah, I was sure Rigel did miss me, or at least missed the way I helped his football game. But it's not like it was my idea to break up.

  "What did Trina do?" I couldn't help asking. She was sitting near the front of the bus, well out of earshot.

  Bri made a face. "Oh, she still fawned all over him, of course. But while he was on the field, I heard her joining in the bitch-fest with the other cheerleaders about how bad he was playing. Two-faced little—"

  "Yeah, well, we already knew that about her, didn't we?" Deb broke in. "He'll figure it out, too, just you wait. If he hasn't already."

  With Rigel's super-hearing, I hoped maybe he'd heard more than Trina thought he did. Not that I really believed he liked her anyway. Did I?

  "You're not looking so good," said Deb, ever the observant one. "Are you feeling okay?"

  I shrugged. "Just tired. I'm not sleeping great these days." I was also slightly queasy and a little headachy, but they didn't need to know that.

  "Poor thing," Deb said, but Bri smacked me on the shoulder.

  "Hey, buck up, M! No guy is worth losing sleep over, you know that. Not even Rigel."

  I managed a smile. "You're right. I'll be fine." But I didn't feel fine. I felt like part of me was missing. Or dying.

  Even though there wasn’t much whispering or staring by now, I still dawdled on the way to Geometry. I'd dreamed about Rigel again last night, and in my dream he'd been as sweet and caring as he'd been two weeks ago. I wasn't quite ready to let go of the illusion.

  But I couldn't put it off forever, so just before the bell rang I entered the classroom.

  And immediately felt better than I had all weekend.

  Through sheer strength of will I managed to wait until I got to my seat to sneak a glance at Rigel. This time I actually caught him looking at me, though he immediately looked away. Had he felt something, too?

  Not that I was back to normal, but I was less queasy, a little less achy. Pretty much how I'd felt on Friday. I wondered if I’d feel like this the rest of my life: either a little bleah, like now, or really yucky, like I had over the weekend. Would it even be worth living like that?

  Suddenly it pissed me off that Rigel could make me feel this way. I'd been fine before I met him. Okay, not popular, and maybe not wildly happy, but fine. Healthy. Pretty good in school, on track for a scholarship, maybe. Progressing—slowly—at taekwondo. I could deal with going back to that. But feeling like this, like I had some kind of wasting disease just because he’d gotten me addicted to him and then made me go cold turkey? This sucked.

  I decided to try talking to him as soon as class ended. It wasn't like I was in any more danger now than I'd been a week ago. What difference could it make?

  When the bell rang, I jumped up and headed his way, but he looked at me and gave a little shake of his head. Frustrated, I mouthed the word, "Why?"

  He gave me an exasperated look that said, without words, "You know why." And then Trina grabbed his arm and he gave me a little one-shoulder shrug and turned to face her with a smile that looked totally fake from here. Not that Trina seemed to notice—or care.

  I wished I had the nerve to confront him, Trina or no Trina, but I didn't. I could imagine everyone laughing or doing the pity thing all over again, at how poor Marsha couldn't let go and face reality. I just wasn't that brave.

  In Earth Science, I almost got up the courage to turn around, what with Rigel giving off those strengthening vibes from right behind me. If he hadn't been sitting with Trina, I would have. Or so I told myself. Still, it was good to feel better, stronger, than I had since . . . well, since Science class on Friday.

  At lunch, Jimmy Franklin smiled and waved at me, and since I saw Rigel watching, I smiled and waved back, feeling a little guilty for leading Jimmy on. Bri noticed and raised her eyebrows, but she didn't say anything, since Matt Mullins was sitting right there at the table, blatantly flirting with her. I was happy for her—or tried to be.

  By Health, I'd given up trying to talk to Rigel that day. I guessed I should be grateful that at least my e
yesight hadn't reverted back to what it was, but I was finding it hard to feel glad about much of anything right now. Doodling on my notes while the teacher droned on about STDs, I heard Trina whispering to Donna and Amber, a couple seats behind me.

  "Wouldn't it be sweet of me to make him cookies or something?" she was saying. "He had a really bad weekend, after that disaster of a game Friday night. I wanted him to take me to a movie Saturday night but he was sick, poor guy. Otherwise he def would have. Or maybe chicken soup would be better than cookies? Canned is just as good as homemade, right?"

  I stopped doodling. So, Rigel was feeling as yucky as I was! Interesting. Maybe he'd be more open to the idea of getting back together than I'd thought.

  After another couple of days, I felt bad enough to try again. I hurried to Geometry, figuring it might be my best chance to talk to Rigel without a crowd around. He was there ahead of Trina, who I'd seen detour into the girls' room, probably to touch up her makeup. Definitely my best chance.

  Before I could lose my nerve, I walked right up to him. "Hey, Rigel," I said, softly but not whispering. "How, um, how have you been?"

  He looked wary but didn't turn his back on me, like I'd been scared he might. "Okay, I guess."

  "Really?" I held his gaze, trying to will him to tell me the truth.

  Amazingly, it seemed to work. "Okay, not so great, I guess," he muttered. "You?"

  "Not so great either," I admitted. Knowing I probably only had a few seconds, I got right to the point. "So, have you rethought this . . . separation thing? At all?" I said it really fast.

  He hesitated, getting my hopes up. "I . . . No. But maybe . . ."

  "Maybe?" I prompted. I could hear Trina's voice in the hall and I was sure he could, too.

  "Maybe we can talk about it," he said in the same rush I had. "Later."

  At least he hadn't totally slammed the door in my face. "Later, then."

  I turned away just as Trina came into the classroom and headed to my seat, my heart lighter than it had been since he’d dropped his bombshell in the arboretum a week and a half ago.

  My optimism carried me through Computer class and into English, where I'd see Rigel again. And maybe snag a desk near his? But when I reached the classroom, everyone was milling around instead of sitting down.

  "What's going on?" I asked Bri, who was standing just outside the door.

  "New teacher," she said. "Ms. Garner had a family emergency or something."

  "A sub?" I didn't see why that would keep people from going to their seats. It never had before.

  "No, I think he's here for the rest of the semester. He wants us to sit alphabetically as he calls the roll, someone said, so we're waiting for the bell." She rolled her eyes. "He's pretty hot for a teacher, though. At least he'll be easy on the eyes."

  Seeing Rigel and Trina coming up behind us, I hesitated a moment but then followed Bri into the room. As I glanced toward the front to get a look at the new English teacher, I heard Rigel whisper, very softly but urgently.

  "M! Get behind me."

  I obeyed without thinking, noticing that Trina didn't seem to have heard him. Then I finally had a chance to focus on our new teacher and froze. I don't know how I knew, but I knew.

  This guy was a Martian, and not a nice one. The bad guys were here.