be seeing our first
smart blonde today…
What do you call an
overweight Saguinox? An extra cholesterol!
When Jay Leno got wind
of their problems with landing, he'd said: what do you call a
spaceship with a faulty air conditioning unit? Come on, what do you
think? A frying saucer!
It wasn't a faulty air
conditioner, but facts don't matter in entertainment.
"I did hear about
that. Apparently debris from your deflector got into the engine and
caught fire?"
He looks amused. "Our
deflector was fine. It's a lot less complicated than that. We
miscalculated the heat levels in the mesosphere, and one of our main
engines burned."
"Oh."
Snap.
We try to ignore it.
Turning my back to the
crowd, I clasp his lock, preparing to show him what to do. "Turn
it three times to the right then you stop at twenty three. Turn to
the left… and right again, stopping at nine." Click! It
opens. "You try it."
He walks closer until
his chest touches my shoulder. He puts his arms around and over my
body as if hiding me from the startled gazes of my peers. This close
I can smell his clean, musky scent. It smells like a combination of
mint, linen and wood. He fumbles with the lock, turning it the way I
demonstrated. I look ahead, my heart beating faster.
"It's not
working." He sounds a little embarrassed.
I take a peek at the
throng of people behind us. It's grown larger.
Rhys's bodyguard tries
to look inconspicuous, but it's hard to hide a six and half foot
frame. His body's a tall street light among smaller lampposts. His
eyes scan the group surrounding us, but remains where he is.
"Maybe you'll just
have to help me everyday," Rhys half jokes.
My breath catches in my
throat.
He sees something on my
face. Suddenly there's a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't
look so scared. I'm not planning on probing you."
Whatever awkwardness is
between us breaks. I laugh. Letterman had done his top ten alien pick
up lines last week and number one was: wanna get probed?
"Someone must've
shot you with a phaser set on 'stunning'," I quip back,
remembering number ten on the list.
"Are you a carbon
based model?" Number eight.
Putting my hand over my
heart, I say, "Of all the planets in all the solar systems in
all the galaxies, you had to walk into mine…"
"How about a close
encounter with the pantless kind?"
Holding back a laugh I
say, "I know you're an alien because you've just abducted my
heart."
His eyes sparkle.
Am I flirting? It's
never happened before.
I can't stop smiling.
"Do you understand everything you're saying?"
"Not quite
everything," he admits, with a little laugh. "But according
to the T.V. audience that list was very funny."
Snap.
He moves closer to me
until he's all I see, hear or smell.
"We don't have
things like that back on Sangine," he continues. "We don't
laugh a lot."
It's a strange thing to
say. I want to respond, but I can't. I see Rhys's eyes with clarity.
At first they appear only golden, but on closer inspection they hold
odd shades of green and some grays too. The colors seem to shimmer
together, intermixing in some spots, and standing boldly in others.
Somehow when it all came together, it creates a single golden cloud
in each eye. Right now the clouds are shining, beckoning.
I like the way he looks
at me.
I like the way he sees
me.
"Do you have your
schedule with you? I can help you find your next class." Did
that sound desperate?
"I know where it
is. Let me walk you to yours."
I'm so stunned I nod
before realizing what I've done. He pulls me to his side. His mouth's
moving and I'm pretty sure he's asking me a question like where my
next class is. I can't form a thought other than he's still talking
to me. He still wants to talk to me. I haven't disappeared.
Not yet.
I feel a rush of
relief.
Snap, snap, snap.
"Where to?"
He's waiting patiently as if he's asked three times already. He
probably has.
"Second floor.
Room 240."
His hands clasp my
elbow. As if on cue, the crowd parts. This must be what a
smart blonde today…
What do you call an
overweight Saguinox? An extra cholesterol!
When Jay Leno got wind
of their problems with landing, he'd said: what do you call a
spaceship with a faulty air conditioning unit? Come on, what do you
think? A frying saucer!
It wasn't a faulty air
conditioner, but facts don't matter in entertainment.
"I did hear about
that. Apparently debris from your deflector got into the engine and
caught fire?"
He looks amused. "Our
deflector was fine. It's a lot less complicated than that. We
miscalculated the heat levels in the mesosphere, and one of our main
engines burned."
"Oh."
Snap.
We try to ignore it.
Turning my back to the
crowd, I clasp his lock, preparing to show him what to do. "Turn
it three times to the right then you stop at twenty three. Turn to
the left… and right again, stopping at nine." Click! It
opens. "You try it."
He walks closer until
his chest touches my shoulder. He puts his arms around and over my
body as if hiding me from the startled gazes of my peers. This close
I can smell his clean, musky scent. It smells like a combination of
mint, linen and wood. He fumbles with the lock, turning it the way I
demonstrated. I look ahead, my heart beating faster.
"It's not
working." He sounds a little embarrassed.
I take a peek at the
throng of people behind us. It's grown larger.
Rhys's bodyguard tries
to look inconspicuous, but it's hard to hide a six and half foot
frame. His body's a tall street light among smaller lampposts. His
eyes scan the group surrounding us, but remains where he is.
"Maybe you'll just
have to help me everyday," Rhys half jokes.
My breath catches in my
throat.
He sees something on my
face. Suddenly there's a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't
look so scared. I'm not planning on probing you."
Whatever awkwardness is
between us breaks. I laugh. Letterman had done his top ten alien pick
up lines last week and number one was: wanna get probed?
"Someone must've
shot you with a phaser set on 'stunning'," I quip back,
remembering number ten on the list.
"Are you a carbon
based model?" Number eight.
Putting my hand over my
heart, I say, "Of all the planets in all the solar systems in
all the galaxies, you had to walk into mine…"
"How about a close
encounter with the pantless kind?"
Holding back a laugh I
say, "I know you're an alien because you've just abducted my
heart."
His eyes sparkle.
Am I flirting? It's
never happened before.
I can't stop smiling.
"Do you understand everything you're saying?"
"Not quite
everything," he admits, with a little laugh. "But according
to the T.V. audience that list was very funny."
Snap.
He moves closer to me
until he's all I see, hear or smell.
"We don't have
things like that back on Sangine," he continues. "We don't
laugh a lot."
It's a strange thing to
say. I want to respond, but I can't. I see Rhys's eyes with clarity.
At first they appear only golden, but on closer inspection they hold
odd shades of green and some grays too. The colors seem to shimmer
together, intermixing in some spots, and standing boldly in others.
Somehow when it all came together, it creates a single golden cloud
in each eye. Right now the clouds are shining, beckoning.
I like the way he looks
at me.
I like the way he sees
me.
"Do you have your
schedule with you? I can help you find your next class." Did
that sound desperate?
"I know where it
is. Let me walk you to yours."
I'm so stunned I nod
before realizing what I've done. He pulls me to his side. His mouth's
moving and I'm pretty sure he's asking me a question like where my
next class is. I can't form a thought other than he's still talking
to me. He still wants to talk to me. I haven't disappeared.
Not yet.
I feel a rush of
relief.
Snap, snap, snap.
"Where to?"
He's waiting patiently as if he's asked three times already. He
probably has.
"Second floor.
Room 240."
His hands clasp my
elbow. As if on cue, the crowd parts. This must be what a
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