How To Break Up With An Alien (16 page)

I took his hand and pulled it up to my lips, barely grazing his knuckles. "Deal."

***

We pulled into the already packed parking lot and I managed to find a spot near a giant rusty SUV and the freshman float. Almost the entire town crowded into the tiny parking lot and even some parked on the grass, just to come to the football game. I guess there was really nothing better to do in a small town.

As soon as we got out of the car I could already feel people's eyes on us. I hated when people stared. I was used to it, being the odd girl in town, but this seemed like a different kind of staring. Not one of gossip, but interest.

"Wow, Alex, is this your cousin or something?" Rachel Johnson darted in front of me, faster than I thought her skinny legs could carry her. She eyed Ace like he was a piece of meat, her pigtails practically bouncing while she looked him up and down.

"Uh, no, this would be my boyfriend, Ace." I quickly took his hand in mine, suddenly feeling very protective.

"Wow, really?"

"Yes, yes, I would be Alex's boyfriend. Good to meet you." He nodded in Rachel's direction.

"Whoa who is the hottie with the accent?" I heard Gemma barreling over on her crutches before I saw her.

"This is Alex's boyfriend, Ace." Rachel waved her hands like Ace was some sort a prized package.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, she is quite serious." Ace flashed his smile that was good enough for a cereal box or toothpaste commercial.

"Alright, let's go to the game." I tugged at Ace's cardigan sleeve and we left Rachel and Gemma standing by the car.

"Why would those girls not believe we are together?" Ace whispered, glancing back at the car and then turning toward me.

"Obviously they don't think I could get a guy as hot as you."

He swung our intertwined hands as we walked through the parking lot toward the stadium. "Nonsense, I'm cold blooded and I do not have an accent."

"That isn't what hot means. It means cute, handsome, whatever word you want to use." The accent thing would have to be a conversation for another time. Some people said he talked like an old English sailor or a diplomat. After the months of talking to him and being with him, I'd sort of gotten used to it and didn't realize he even had an accent until someone else would mention it.

"Oh." He stopped right before we got in line for the ticket window. The school may have been small, but they put a lot of money into the football program. A giant arch hung over two small ticket huts, proudly proclaiming 'Home of the Winnebago Indians.' A crowd had already gathered just on the other side of the arch, yelling and waiting for the team to run from the school locker room and through the arch.

"Oh, what?" I tugged on his hand, pulling him next to me in line.

"I've just never done anything like this before." His eyes never left the sea of people near the field. The bleachers were already packed with parents and the smell of pork chop sandwiches and popcorn wafted from the concession stand.

"Done what? Gone to a high school football game?"

"That, and…" He took his eyes off the crowd and looked down at me. His gaze made me feel like I was the only one in the world. "Been on a real date."

Chapter 31

I, all of a sudden, felt giddy. Like a little girl with a new pony. It was stupid to be giddy about Ace referring to our trip to the game as a date, but it really brought out the girliness in me.

"What are those things wrapped in silver that everyone is biting?" Ace stared, curling his lip in disgust as we walked passed the concession stand.

He paid for our tickets with the biggest bill anyone had ever seen and they had to get change from the booster club's raffle ticket sales and the cheerleader's cookie stand just to break it. Way to make us stand out.

"You mean the pork chip sandwiches?"

He laughed. "Alex that is preposterous. Why would anyone eat an animal out of silver?"

And then I was brought back to reality. Ace may have referred to the evening as our first date, but no matter how he classified it, it was still blatantly clear how obviously different we were.

"Alexandra, I think this is the first time I've ever seen you at a football game!" I'd recognize my grandpa's booming voice anywhere. When my parents first got divorced we lived in his and my grandma's basement. I would always hear him from the top of the stairs, on the second floor, and all the way down to my basement bedroom.

"Oh, hey, gramps." I pulled Ace over to where he and another group of older people were standing. I don't think he actually knew any of the players, but all of his friends were grandparents of the players, so it gave him an excuse to get out of the house and away from my grandma's unfiltered cigarette smoke.

"And who is this young gentleman that you have with you?" He looked behind me at Ace then his bushy eyebrows rose to the top of his wrinkled forehead, his face turning pale like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Oh, gramps, this is my boyfriend—"

Ace quickly ducked his head down and shook my grandpa's hand briskly, his eyes never meeting my grandpa's, just focusing on the ground below us. "Ace, glad to meet you sir."

Grandpa shook his head, releasing Ace's hand. "I don't mean to be rude son, but you look just like one of my buddies from back in the war. It just took me by surprise. Was your grandfather a flying Ace?"

Uh oh
.

Ace kicked at the grass underneath him, letting his shoulders fall. "Yeah, probably something like that."

"We should probably get going." I tugged Ace's arm realizing he was uncomfortable. "Good to see you, gramps."

Grandpa's gaze was far off, as if he was staring into the past. He shook his head and then formed a tight-lipped smile down at me. "Good to see you, too, Alexandra, have fun."

I quickly pulled Ace toward the student section, hoping to get as far from my grandpa as we could.

"What was that about?" I whispered.

"I may or may not have fought with your grandfather in World War II." He didn't look up from the ground.

"Uh, that could have been some information you could have told me before I introduced you."

"It's not like I expected to ever see someone from the war again, or that they would even recognize me."

I started to say something, when I heard a clanging drum to my left.

"Hey, Alex, glad to see you came." Brody sauntered over. He was in the marching band and still had a small set of drums strapped over his gray band sweater.

"Couldn't miss the game." I put my fist in the air, hoping my sarcasm wasn't too obvious.

"Ahem." Ace stepped forward, blocking half of me from Brody's view. "I am Ace, Alex's boyfriend. And who might you be?"

"Brody." He held his drumsticks in one hand and took Ace's extended hand in the other.

They both stared at each other, their grip tightening as each second passed.

"Okay, that is enough machismo for one day." I stepped between them.

"Yeah." Brody shook head like he was trying to knock whatever thoughts were in there out of it. "I better get ready for kick off. See you later, Alex." Brody waved quickly before dodging through the crowd and lining up with the rest of the band.

Ace laughed and I spun around so fast I almost gave myself whiplash. "What the hell was that about?"

"That is the boy that I am supposed to be so worried about?" He put his hand to his mouth, but it did nothing to stifle his laughter.

"What is so funny about him?" I narrowed my eyes. It only took a few minutes for me to go from giddy to downright annoyed.

"Nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Whatever." I was clearly bothered, but I didn't want to make a scene in the middle of everyone in town. People were already staring as it was at the beautiful boy with the cardigan who walked in with the weird Italian girl.

***

"I think I'm starting to understand this game," Ace whispered. "It is kind of like Provi. One man throws a rock and the others attack him for it."

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"What is wrong?"

We sat in a far corner of the student section. Most of the other people around us were either cheering or wrapped up in their own conversations and weren't listening to us.

"Nothing is wrong, just watching the game."

"Alex." Ace's fingers trailed to my chin, tilting it up toward him. Even with the warm September breeze, his hands still boiled against my skin. "I know you well enough to know when something is wrong."

I let out a deep breath, looking down and then back up at Ace. I remember the first time I saw his dark eyes. My first day at Circe. The day he saved me from almost being killed because I knew nothing about the alien world, and now my same sparse knowledge of the alien world was the exact thing that was still bothering me.

"This isn't about the boy with the sticks, is it?" He tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Boy with the sticks?"

"Yes." He put his hands back down at his sides. "Bode, or whatever his name is. You aren't thinking about him, are you?"

I shook my head. "Ace, that is ridiculous. Why would I be thinking about Brody?"

"Hey, Alex!"

Speak of the devil.

Brody came pouncing up the bleachers. His drum was off but he was still wearing his gray sweatshirt with the giant orange W splayed across his chest.

"Hey Brody." I did a little wave.

He was grinning from ear to ear and took a spot on the seat in front of us, turning his back toward the field and looking straight at me.

"Did you catch my drum solo during half time? I know I messed up a little bit, but hopefully no one else noticed."

"Yeah, it was—"

"Don't you have somewhere else to be instead of bothering people's girlfriends?" Ace interrupted, staring down at Brody as if he were a bug that he wanted to squash.

"Whoa, dude, who said you got to speak for Alex?" Brody crossed his arms over his chest, trying to sit taller. He was a bleacher below us, but even with the difference in seats, Ace probably had at least six inches or more on him. Not to mention, pure Caltian muscle.

Ace smirked. "I am simply saying that it would be nice to spend time with my girlfriend instead of having her puppy dog gallop over to us, looking for attention."

"Whoa, man, who are you calling a puppy?" Brody stood up, leaning over Ace.

A few people in the stands noticed their altercation and were staring, some even whispering.

Ace locked eyes with Brody, balling up his fist, and then it was as if a lightbulb had turned on. He squinted and unsquinted his eyes and then unballed his hands. "Let's go, Alex."

"What?"

Ace faced in my direction while Brody still leaned over him. Brody's nostrils flared and his teeth barred as if he were some fighting bull.

"Let's go!" Ace pulled my arm like I was nothing more than a rag doll and dragged me down the bleachers.

I knew people had to really be talking now, but I didn't care. I was fuming.

"What the hell was that about?" I spun around toward Ace as soon as he released my arm. We were in the middle of the parking lot. Everyone else was at the game, so we were completely alone.

"You were right," he mumbled, staring down at his feet.

"Right? What are you talking about?"

Ace shook his head and looked up at me, taking one step closer and putting his hands on my shoulders. It was a gentle touch and his face softened.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I saw his eyes. They are dark and empty. He is under the worst sleep hold I have seen in a long time. A Caltian is getting to his dreams."

"Wait, wouldn't mine look the same if I am being sleep creeped on as well?" I questioned.

Ace shook his head. "Obviously someone has been working very hard on Brody to get to you. Maybe that is the grand plan. To use him to get to you."

"You really think so?" I caught my breath. I finally had time to realize what was going on and it all came to a skidding halt in my brain.

"Yes." He looked back and forth. "But we can't talk about this here, come on."

He darted toward my car and I did my best to keep up, but my short, chubby legs were no match for his.

"Give me your keys." He stopped at my driver's door with one hand on the handle and the other held out to me.

"Why would I let you drive The Pox?" I put one hand on my hip and the other in my pocket, thumbing my rabbit's foot keychain.

"Because I know where we are going."

Chapter 32

I gave in and let Ace drive. For supposedly not having a driver's license he was actually a pretty good driver. With one hand on the steering wheel and his elbow on the window he looked like all the old posters of James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause.