Out Of This World

My chest weakened, my stomach felt queasy. I wanted to cry and laugh and fall asleep all at the same time. I stumbled, sloshing the glass of orange juice all over my arm, and cursed under my breath. The girl sat up, her large eyes blinked at me sleepily; the flash of violet freezing me in place.

“Morning, Ben.” She smiled, dimples denting the smooth, alabaster skin.

I stood there, staring, trying to think of a suitable response.

Good…morning? Yeah, Good morning. That would work.

I opened my my mouth to wish her a good morning but as soon as my eyes lifted and met hers, my brain turned to chicken shit. She didn’t appear even the slightest bit phased that some weird guy with orange juice soaking through his clothes was gaping at her like an imbecile. She looked peaceful, serene. Her eyes dropped to the breakfast tray balanced precariously in my hands.

“Is that for me?”

I nodded and stumbled forward to give it to her. She picked up a piece of toast, inquisition knotting her brow, and after a few seconds of interested inspection, began to nibble at the crust.

“Are…” I cleared my throat and struggled to organize my thoughts, “Are you feeling better?”

She looked up at me with bright eyes and nodded. She certainly looked better.

Her skin had cleared up, the bruises and pasty complexion long gone. She no longer looked tired and weak, but steadfast and elegant and her lips had softened so that they were now moist and pink.

She raised a delicate hand and I watched it glide toward me, resting on the bone between my jaw and chin. I stopped breathing; her touch was as placid and careful as a bird which I didn’t want to startle it away.

“Thank you, Ben.” She said softly. “For taking care of me. I feel much better.”

Her voice was smooth and sincere; her accent held a small American twang. She leaned forward, her breath stirring the hairs on my cheek. Then, as her eyes closed and her breath began to smother between our lips-

“Ben!”

We were interrupted.

I turned around, pulling my face from her hands and observed the look on dad’s face warp from calm to confused to serious. I gulped.

“Yeah, dad?” I said.

Dad beckoned me with his index finger. He wanted to talk. I stood up from my kneel on the ground and followed him to the study where he shut the door and took a seat behind the desk.

“Ben!” he exploded. I flinched. he raised his hands to his head, rubbing his temples. After composing himself, he brought this hands into a fold on the table top. “Ben. How much do you know about the girl?”

I shrugged, eyes ascending as dad stood and walked around the table toward me, “Nothing. She just woke up…that was the first time I’d talked to her properly.”

Dad nodded, sucked in his lips, folded his arms and rocking backwards on his heels. Typical army procedure had woven its way into every day life; it was like a bad habit that he was too proud of to stop.

“Ben, this girl is Vannecian.” He informed me.

“Yeah…and?”

Dad closed his eyes, thinking through how he was going to explain what ever he needed to explain to me.

“Ok,” he cleared his throat, “Imagine the flirtiest slut in your school.”

I gaped at him, stunned at his use of vocabulary, “Um…dad-“

“Common Ben,” he sighed, “I was in high school once.”

I choked out an awkward laugh. “Alright…”

“Vannecian girls are like that.” I raised a brow. “They can’t help it, it’s just their nature.To them, it’s not wrong for them to put themselves out, its normal. Its how to attract the a potential mate. Its their way of life; to them, its part of survival.”

I stifled a laugh. Dad was telling me that the girl in the living room- my own mother too!- were skanks. Skanks by nature. His scientific and cavalier approach to the topic provoked a snort and a scoff from the back of my throat. Dad paused in his stride across the room and frowned at me.

“I’m serious, Ben.” He said, “She’s a beautiful girl, which gives me even more reason to warn you not to be taken in.”

I shook my head. He was being absurd.

“What, like a Veela?” I laughed.

Dad just looked confused, “A what?”

“You know, in Harry Potter, those girls…oh, never mind.”

“Harry Potter isn’t real. This is.” He shook his head, as if confirming the thought. I eyed him incredulously. Was he serious?

“What about mum?” I speculated.

Dad turned around and went back to his desk. “Your mother was different.” He dismissed.

I nodded sarcastically as if that explained everything, “And Kim? Kim’s half Vannecian.”

“Kim’s also half Mark, and when it comes to women, Mark is the densest human being to walk this planet.” He pointed out, grinning. “But I’m serious Ben. Just please, don’t trust her.”

I shrugged, nodded and left the room.

Her name was Ada, and she was amazing.

For the next few days she stuck to me like glue. She was so unsure of the world and everything in it; she was always looking for me to guide her, for my approval. When I talked, she watched me with her large, intelligent violets, as if silencing the world for what I had to say. She was interested in everything I did, everything I liked, everything I felt. She was always captivated. She was always captivating.

The one thing that she never cared about was my ability. She never needed it, never wanted it, never urged to see it like it was some really cool magic trick.

And it was because she could do it too. She was just like me.

Dad told me not to tell her about my other ability. She knew I was hiding something from her, and it almost pained me not to tell her. Her eyes…everything was in her eyes. I couldn’t read her mind, but I didn’t need to. Her eyes said everything.

She was lounged on my bed, gazing out the window with that ever present thoughtful expression on her face. I sat on a bean bag, flicking through a magazine, pretending to read when I was really watching her from beneath my lashes. Suddenly, but gracefully as ever, she turned to face me and brought her legs up so that they were crossed before her. Her head tilted to the side as she looked at me in question.

“How did you get here?” she asked, and I wondered why I hadn’t asked the same thing.

I rested the magazine on my lap and looked up at her, “Well, its kind of a long story…”

“I have time.” She smiled.

“Ok, well, my mum came from Vanna with the rest of them seventeen years ago. She met my dad, who was in the army and they…fell in love.”

Her eyebrows raised in interest. “So James is your real father?”

I nodded. “Then my dad’s unit were given the project of….hunting the Vannecians and bringing them back to the labs for testing. My dad and his best friend Mark took my mum and her best friend Kai into hiding.” My voice quavered. I couldn’t go on.

“Where’s your mum now?” Ada said softly, concern radiating from her eyes.

I bit my cheeks. “She turned herself in.” Ada’s eyes grew in shock. “Somebody tipped them off. My mum knew that if she was found with my dad, my dad would be killed. So she gave him the egg and turned herself in.”

Ada inhaled sharply and made to turn back to the window. I cleared my throat, earning her attention and anxious to divert the subject off myself and my mum.

“What about you? How did you get here?”

“I was the first one.” She said levelly.

“The first what?”

“The first egg. I hatched in the labs, I was under twenty four hour surveillance with three others. Two months ago one of us tried to escape but didn’t make it. He was re captured and in the last few hours of his life he told me how to escape.” She looked at me guiltily, as if what she had done was a great crime. “I had to escape…they used to test on us.”

Her lips parted, her eyes filled with woe as beads of liquid spilled out of her eyes. I stared, horrified, before composing myself and joining her on the bed. I lifted my arms to bring her in for a hug and she flinched.

‘I-I’m not going to hurt you,” I said gently, lifting a finger and catching a drop as it fell off her chin.

She looked up at me with thanks before pushing her head into the crook of my neck and draping her arms loosely around me.

“How did you find us?” I said quietly.

“We’d been told about you,” she snuffled, “By some Vannecians that knew your mum…and then it was just a matter of looking…”

I tried to nod but my jaw was frozen stiff. If a seventeen year old girl could find us, how hard could it be for scientists and high ranking officers in the US army?

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice when Ada stopped crying and bent to pick up the magazine I’d dropped.

“What’s this?” she asked, her eyes still wet. I smiled at the inquisitive nature brought on by living in a tank all her life.

“Its a Metal Hammer magazine,” I said, opening it and placing it over our laps. Her head declined to take a closer look and I became uncomfortably aware of the weight of her hand on my thigh. Her hair brushed my chin as she tilted her face to read the words and dad’s warning spiraled in my mind.

There was a thud. The door slammed open and the light above us shook as Kim’s frozen hand whacked against the door frame. I jumped and looked at her, a mixture of happiness and weariness fixing the expression on my face.

“Kim?” I croaked, my voice scratchy.

She held a tulip to her chapped lips, one that I recognized from the rectangular pot on our veranda. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to leap up andkiss embrace her. Her mind was bursting with thoughts that I didn’t want to read; the last time I did still burned in my chest.

“Kim, this is Ada.”

Kim’s lips parted and her eyes widened as she took in the girl next to me. I felt the touch of hot fingertips on my chin and turned to be met by an intense violet gaze. I gaped as her lips met mine.

Suddenly, Kim’s mind was silent. Silent except for one thought that conjured tears in her eyes.

She’s beautiful…

And as the flower fell from her hands, and the sound of its landing echoed in my ears; as I watched Kim’s chapped pink lips quiver, and her deep chocolate eyes dart between Ada and me; as I watched the hurt flit across her face and the hopelessness wet her cheeks, I was thinking the same thing.

She’s beautiful…

But ‘she’ wasn’t Ada.