me wonder if he was searching for something. “I’m
eighteen.”
“Really?" I leaned forward, inching my chair
closer as I tucked my feet underneath my legs.
“Well, yeah. I’ve been this way for awhile,
but eighteen nonetheless." His eyes shifted from the screen, then
back to me.
“What do you mean it’s been awhile?" I leaned
even closer, hoping not to fall out of my chair. “How long have you
been here, you know—” I twirled my hand above my head. “—on
Earth?”
“Since the 1940s." He shifted his weight from
one side to the other, his eyes trying to avoid mine.
“No way!" I bounced in my seat. “Did you come
here with the Roswell crash?”
“The what?" His eyes finally locked on mine
again before he burst into a fit of laughter. “Do people actually
believe that weather balloon crash in New Mexico was an alien?"
I pouted. “Well, it’s all over those specials
on the History Channel."
“If an alien ship actually crash landed, more
people would know it. They are usually pretty big, unless it’s some
sort of a fighter plane. And when we do land, we usually are better
at covering it up." He looked at the floor and then back up to me.
“That’s what hurricanes and other natural disasters are for.”
“Whoa, wait a second." I put my arms out as I
slid my feet down to the floor. “So you’re telling me that natural
disasters are just a cover up for alien landings?”
“Well, not all of them." He rolled his eyes.
“But most, yeah.”
“So did you come over during a hurricane,
then?" I scooted my chair closer to his.
“What’s with all the questions today, Alex?
This is more than you’ve spoken all week." He rolled his chair
closer to me. His knee bumped against mine. We officially could not
roll any closer. I felt a cold shiver radiating through his suit
and onto my body. I trembled, wondering how his body could be so
cold when his fingers always felt warm beneath mine.
I shrugged, looking down at our touching
knees. “Just curious, I guess.”
“Fine, I answer a question about me and you
answer a question about you. Fair enough?"
I looked up, focusing on his jawline instead
of his face. There was no way I would ever say no to his stare,
which could definitely get me in a lot of trouble.
“Fair enough." I pointed at him. “But you
have to answer my last question first. How did you get here?”
“Well, that’s an easy one." He leaned back in
his chair, folding his arms across his body. “World War II hit and
your fighter pilots weren't up to snuff against the Japanese and
the Germans, so the Army Air Force recruited the Caltians to help
them out.”
“So is that why they call you Ace?" I tilted
my head.
“Someone’s been studying their history." He
beamed.
“Well, yeah. My dad, is, or was, in the Air
Force, so I think I should know about Ace fighter pilots." I tried
to sit up as straight as I could, folding my hands on my knees.
“Okay, my turn.”
He stood and put his hands on both of my
armrests, leaning in so that his face was only a few inches from
mine. He smelled like peppermint tea and the breeze after a
snowstorm. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever smelled and I
wanted to inhale all of him.
“Do you—” His eyes drew up, drinking me in
before meeting my stare. “—like me?”
I couldn’t breathe or swallow. It was as if
all the air and saliva had been sucked out of me, and I just sat
there breathless and staring as Ace arched his eyebrows. His
intense focus fixated into my own like the answer would be right
there on my face.
Then he smiled, letting a hushed laugh escape
his lips. “I’m kidding with you!" He sat back down, bumping my
knees with his and then turning his chair back toward the
screen.
“Oh, yeah, I knew that." I swallowed hard,
turning my chair back toward the screen. He might have said he was
kidding, but just as all the air came back into my lungs, a part of
me felt disappointed. I shook those feelings out of my head
eighteen.”
“Really?" I leaned forward, inching my chair
closer as I tucked my feet underneath my legs.
“Well, yeah. I’ve been this way for awhile,
but eighteen nonetheless." His eyes shifted from the screen, then
back to me.
“What do you mean it’s been awhile?" I leaned
even closer, hoping not to fall out of my chair. “How long have you
been here, you know—” I twirled my hand above my head. “—on
Earth?”
“Since the 1940s." He shifted his weight from
one side to the other, his eyes trying to avoid mine.
“No way!" I bounced in my seat. “Did you come
here with the Roswell crash?”
“The what?" His eyes finally locked on mine
again before he burst into a fit of laughter. “Do people actually
believe that weather balloon crash in New Mexico was an alien?"
I pouted. “Well, it’s all over those specials
on the History Channel."
“If an alien ship actually crash landed, more
people would know it. They are usually pretty big, unless it’s some
sort of a fighter plane. And when we do land, we usually are better
at covering it up." He looked at the floor and then back up to me.
“That’s what hurricanes and other natural disasters are for.”
“Whoa, wait a second." I put my arms out as I
slid my feet down to the floor. “So you’re telling me that natural
disasters are just a cover up for alien landings?”
“Well, not all of them." He rolled his eyes.
“But most, yeah.”
“So did you come over during a hurricane,
then?" I scooted my chair closer to his.
“What’s with all the questions today, Alex?
This is more than you’ve spoken all week." He rolled his chair
closer to me. His knee bumped against mine. We officially could not
roll any closer. I felt a cold shiver radiating through his suit
and onto my body. I trembled, wondering how his body could be so
cold when his fingers always felt warm beneath mine.
I shrugged, looking down at our touching
knees. “Just curious, I guess.”
“Fine, I answer a question about me and you
answer a question about you. Fair enough?"
I looked up, focusing on his jawline instead
of his face. There was no way I would ever say no to his stare,
which could definitely get me in a lot of trouble.
“Fair enough." I pointed at him. “But you
have to answer my last question first. How did you get here?”
“Well, that’s an easy one." He leaned back in
his chair, folding his arms across his body. “World War II hit and
your fighter pilots weren't up to snuff against the Japanese and
the Germans, so the Army Air Force recruited the Caltians to help
them out.”
“So is that why they call you Ace?" I tilted
my head.
“Someone’s been studying their history." He
beamed.
“Well, yeah. My dad, is, or was, in the Air
Force, so I think I should know about Ace fighter pilots." I tried
to sit up as straight as I could, folding my hands on my knees.
“Okay, my turn.”
He stood and put his hands on both of my
armrests, leaning in so that his face was only a few inches from
mine. He smelled like peppermint tea and the breeze after a
snowstorm. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever smelled and I
wanted to inhale all of him.
“Do you—” His eyes drew up, drinking me in
before meeting my stare. “—like me?”
I couldn’t breathe or swallow. It was as if
all the air and saliva had been sucked out of me, and I just sat
there breathless and staring as Ace arched his eyebrows. His
intense focus fixated into my own like the answer would be right
there on my face.
Then he smiled, letting a hushed laugh escape
his lips. “I’m kidding with you!" He sat back down, bumping my
knees with his and then turning his chair back toward the
screen.
“Oh, yeah, I knew that." I swallowed hard,
turning my chair back toward the screen. He might have said he was
kidding, but just as all the air came back into my lungs, a part of
me felt disappointed. I shook those feelings out of my head
Similar Books
