Volume I - Genesis

Chapter 8—Complicated

Aaron

I was on kamikaze mode. I knew that from the moment I walked out my front doors this morning, my dad still yelling at me to come back and finish talking to him. I knew this was it. The moment I'd been fearing since Rheas and Mira first showed up in the parking lot yesterday

And for the first 30 minutes, it felt like the end of the world. Everything I knew was going to hell. That was all I could focus on was losing the world I'd built for myself—my escape from my weird birthright as the next in line to rule a planet I barely knew. It was like my day couldn't get worse. Fighting with dad, walking to school in silence, and then…having to get a ride from Patrick.

He just kept popping up at the most convenient times, putting me more and more in debt with him. It was getting to the point where I was starting to feel like a damsel in distress, and he was always supposed to be the heroic rescuer. I hated it.

Well, the majority of me did. Then there was this small, masochistic part of me that completely understood why Amy ditched me for the guy.

That same part of me also kind of liked having someone save the day all the time.

Maybe that's where these feelings were coming from. After all, it wasn't until yesterday that I straight up could not stand to be in the same room with this dude. Every time he opened his mouth was like a constant reminder of how non-human I was—and how completely and totally alien and stupid I would always be. It was always that way. But for some reason…part of me liked it. See what I mean about masochism? I mean, what kind of dumb ass has a crush on their worst enemy? Apparently me.

Maybe this kamikaze thing wasn't such a good idea. Maybe I should have planned this whole thing a little bit better…

"Dude!"

I backed off just as fast as I'd come onto him.

What the hell was I thinking? Jumping in for a kiss? Couldn't I have just been a normal person and just told him how I felt? Why did I feel the need to force myself on him?

I blamed kamikaze mode.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, "I…don't know what the hell that was about…"

His eyebrows met with that look that told me he was about to call bullshit. Either I really was terrible at lying, or this guy just had a ridiculous BS detector.

"Really?" he asked. "Cuz I mean…I could take a couple guesses."

His puppy was licking at my sneakers now. Maybe she thought there was something tasty on them? Or maybe she was trying to tell me I should get ready to run. I couldn't decide.

"Look, I was just…I was just messing around, I didn't mean anything by it—I just got caught up in the moment and was on this kamikaze thing and…"

"What?" His confusion and surprise wasn't just hidden behind his facial features now. Now he was about to be completely honest with me. This was the part I didn't think about—you know, the talking about what I just did part. I should have known better. I mean, this was Patrick Adams—the king of talking. I really should have expected a long dissertation on my haphazard kiss.

"Dude, you just kissed me," he said pointedly, as if that explained everything. I mean, I guess it kind of did. "People usually only kiss each other when, you know, they like each other. Up until yesterday, you couldn't even look at me without talking shit about me. Now you kiss me?"

I shook my head, backing out of the kitchen. I was starting to feel claustrophobic in there. How the hell did anyone live in such a small space anyway? And how did they cook without catching everything on fire?

Suddenly, I was extremely hot too. Like someone had just lit a fire underneath me.

"Forget it, man, I told you…I just…I dunno why it happened."

"Stop lying to me," he roared. "Just stop with the lies. You just had a breakdown about being fake your whole life—why not go for a slight change of pace and just be clear with me?"

Tia was biting at my shoes now. More specifically, my shoe strings. Maybe she was trying to stop me from leaving.

She looked up at me and whimpered.

When I finally got the courage to look at Patrick, he still looked pissed. His tanned face was all scrunched up around his eyes, and his lips were tightened in a frown. And his ears were red.

Huh. He was blushing. I knew this because…well, I'd spent most of my life trying to embarrass him. So I knew the signs. I just didn't understand why he was embarrassed. It's not like he kissed me or anything.

Then again…he didn't necessarily pull away or avoid it either…

I sighed, trying to steady my overexcited thoughts. A few deep breaths later, and I felt like I was maybe, possibly, slightly somewhat ready to come to terms with what I'd done.

"Well?" he asked me, moving to the entrance of the kitchen.

Tia wandered over to him now, uninterested in my shoes for the moment.

"I guess…I dunno…I guess part of the reason we gave you such a hard time—why I gave you such a hard time about making out with dudes at your old school was because of my parents."

"First of all," he cut me off angrily, "I wasn't 'making out with dudes.' It was one time. In a game of Truth or Dare. And secondly, shouldn't having two dads make you, I dunno, more tolerant? It's not like being gay is the end of the world anymore. Who gives a shit?"

Normally, I would have flipped by now. He was talking to me like he used to talk to me—like I was an idiot. I hadn't seen this Patrick since yesterday, and for some odd reason, it was weird to me now. It was like I had gotten used to him being nicer to me.

But I had to understand his frustration. And I couldn't just magically expect him to forgive me. Especially after I just mouth-raped him.

"Look, that's what I'm trying to say—no one should have cared. I shouldn't have given you a hard time like that. But it was just…it was something I did so I didn't have to actually like you, you know?"

His defenses dropped somewhat, then he looked at me like I'd just dropped a bomb on him.

"What do you mean by 'like' me?"

Oh, shit. I'd forgotten that word had two meanings. Shiiiiiiiiit…

"…Do I really have to explain?" I asked quietly, paying more attention to my shoes than Tia had been. "I think you know."

"No," he said firmly, "I don't. Because there's no way in hell you can like-like me. You don't even know me, dude. You know nothing about me whatsoever. How can you like me?"

"I didn't say I was in love with you," I snapped, "it's—it was—just some stupid crush, man. Don't read too far into it."

Now he was pissed again, I could see it in his eyes—actually, more like his eyebrows. They always made this V-shaped crease in his forehead when he was mad.

"Read too far into it?!" he repeated, like he couldn't believe I'd used those words. "You're kidding me, right? Dude, you just fucking kissed me, and then you tell me you like me, but I'm reading too far into things?"

"I don't even know why we're having this conversation!" I yelled. "This was a dumb idea and I don't know why I'm even still here. I'm out."

I made a move for the door, but he blocked me faster than I thought possible. Maybe it was just because his apartment was tiny.

"You can't go out there with Rheas looking for you," he reminded me coolly, "I'm sorry for blowing up on you."

Really? That was new.

"I'm just…I'm a little confused," he admitted. "I mean, you were with Amy for what, three years? How the hell was I ever supposed to know you liked me?"

"That was the point," I said simply, "you weren't."

He nodded to himself, like that made sense.

"So…I'm guessing you're telling me this now because you think this is your last day here? That's what you meant about kamikaze mode?"

I had to give a mocking laugh at my own term. "Yeah, you could say that."

Again with the nodding. "Well, I guess I'm flattered that you thought it was important enough to tell me. You could have just left and never said anything about it again."

"I guess that would have been easier, huh?"

"Easier, yeah, but…I guess not right."

He chewed on his lip a little bit and the feeling of them on mine came back for just a second. Honestly, I wasn't sure if this was a purely physical attraction to him, or if my subconscious had picked up on the fact that despite all the shit we'd put each other through, he somehow understood me without me having to tell him. So…maybe there was some actual substance to it? Then again, he'd raised the point of me not knowing anything about him. At all.

I didn't want to tell him that wasn't true, because then I'd feel like a creeper. But you learn a lot about someone when you hate them. For example, I knew his favorite color was dark green because I heard him and Amy having a conversation about why he hated lime green. Which was why I went out of my way to find a neon green bear to stick onto Amy's locker for her birthday last year. And I knew like, all of his pet peeves because I did 99 percent of them. I knew he always carried spearmint gum with him because he had an onion bagel for breakfast every morning. And I knew his birthday was September first. And I knew his favorite bands were from the early 2000s, and that he hated modern music. And I knew he played guitar and liked to draw. I knew he was different, like me. I knew a hell of a lot more than he thought I did.

But I didn't want him to think I'd been stalking him or something. So I didn't say anything.

"So…" he said awkwardly, "now what?"

I continued my silence, shrugging in response. I didn't know where to go from here. I hadn't really thought that far in advance. I guess my ideal outcome would have been him confessing he liked me too, and then we'd have an intergalactic long-distance relationship…

Yeah, never mind. That idea sounded worse the longer I thought about it.

"Well…um…do you mind if I ask you how or why you developed this…uh…crush?"

At this point, I didn't really care anymore. I guess my inner kamikaze was taking over again.

"Before you started dating Amy, we had the same World History class. You helped me with vocabulary terms without me asking or bribing you." I paused and reflected for a minute, taking myself back to the time for just a brief moment. "No one else would have done that in a million years. Most people didn't talk to me, and if they helped me with anything, it was because I had to threaten them or blackmail them."

Now he seemed to be going back in time with the story, trying to recall the events. "Seriously? You remember that? That was…that was like my first week in school."

I nodded. "Yeah, it was before anything ever happened to make us butt heads."

"So, what? Is it like a physical thing?"

He was starting to get too comfortable with this. Especially for someone who'd just rejected me. What made him think I wanted to talk about this with him?

"I guess, dude, I dunno. It's a little of everything."

"Don't you have a girlfriend, though? I mean…no one would really peg you for being…well, non-hetero."

This part I didn't mind answering so much. I could chalk it up to my alien nature. So I did. "It's an Eltarian thing. We have sexes, but we don't typecast genders as much as humans do. Eltarians can mate with either sex."

He frowned. "Wait, when you say mate, you mean like…they can reproduce, too?"

I nodded.

"How is that…how is that even possible?"

I laughed at the look on his face. It was the same look I had when my Dyn and dad tried to explain it to me. "It's complicated," I said, "but…basically Eltarians are born as a liquid-plasma-kinda-thing and then become solid after about five minutes of being exposed to oxygen. It's pretty weird, I'm not gonna lie."

"Uh, only a lot."

"Yeah, it took me a while to understand myself."

He didn't say anything, just looked at me for a while, almost like he was studying me.

"What?" I asked him, shifting uncomfortably. "Is there something on my face?"

He smirked. "No, no. I just…I dunno, you're a lot different when you're not being a dick."

"Uh…thanks, I guess."

"Seriously," he said, trying to explain himself, "like, even the way you talk. You just used the word 'typecast.' I didn't know you had a vocabulary that wasn't 'dood' or 'bro.' It's…just different."

I rubbed the back of my head nervously. He was starting to understand how I worked. Mimicry. It was all about mimicking people to adjust. To adapt. I had to mirror whoever I was around. I just didn't think he realized the only reason I was suddenly talking like him was because I was feeding off him. But I didn't want to tell him that much. Not yet.

"Well, that's just because I don't get to use it very much," I replied with a small smile. "I mean, if I did, I don't think my friends would understand me, anyway."

"Then they're not really your friends, are they?"

My smile faded. I didn't tell him why, but I assumed he knew why. How the hell was I going to tell my friends about leaving? Did I even need to? I'm sure Doc would make up something about me transferring to Europe or some weird boarding school. I was sure dad was planning it now and telling Doc exactly what he'd need to say and do. And I was sure Dyn was probably handling things on Eltar for my arrival. Probably prepping the palace for something extravagant like some "Welcome Home" gala.

I cringed just thinking about it.

"Look, man, I know it sucks," Patrick said, assuming exactly what I thought he would, "but I'm telling you—it might not really be over. I mean, have you actually tried telling them what you want? You're 18 after all. Technically, you're an adult."

I all-out laughed now. I couldn't help it. It was weird because he still thought about things like an Earthling—like a human.

"18 is nothing on Eltar. These people live to be hundreds of thousands of years old. You're not considered an adult on Eltar until the time you reach Manyfenzeeon."

He blinked.

"Manyfenzeeon is like…it's like puberty, kind of, but it's not physical. Well, usually. It's…hard to explain. Some people get special powers, like telekinesis. Some people have this great epiphany. It's basically like enlightenment where you understand your role in the universe."

He nodded slowly.

"Sorry," I said, "I'm really bad at explaining this stuff. It's…it's something you just kind of have to see for yourself."

"I see." He crossed his arms and leaned against the outer wall of the kitchen. "Well, I dunno, dude. I kinda hope you stick around."

Really? Why would he want me to stick around? What had I ever done for him other than fuck with him at every turn? I couldn't even save him from Gigadroids like I wanted to. So…why would he want me around? To use as his punching bag, probably. He had a lot of ammo to use on me now, and something told me the 'nice' Patrick wouldn't stick around forever. Eventually, I'd do something to piss him off.

"Why?" I finally asked him, but my skepticism was a lot harsher than I meant it to be.

So he was quiet when he did respond. "I dunno…maybe…maybe we could get to know each other more. I…I sorta like talking to you. This you that is."

"What do you mean?"

Now he was taking deep breaths. And I could see his ears lighting up just slightly.

No way.

No. Way.

"I…I dunno. Maybe we could hang out and stuff."

Was this what he felt like all the time with me? Because I was starting to understand his frustration. His cryptic and half-assed answers were starting to confuse me even more. I mean…if he was saying he wanted to hang out as friends, he wouldn't be this nervous, right? And he would have just said so. But he was shy. And embarrassed about something. So…maybe he did like me?

"As…as friends? Or…"

He wouldn't make eye contact with me, and I have to admit, I honestly felt like the tables had turned. Now I was pushing him.

Then, he just went for it. He came at me faster than I'd come at him, and he had to stand on his toes to reach my lips because I was a few inches taller than him. But I knew what he was doing. It was just…not what I expected. At all.

Hadn't he rejected me? Didn't he freak out when I kissed him?

So why was he kissing me, now? And a hell of a lot better than I had kissed him. He was…he was a lot more in control than I was. He'd obviously done this quite a bit. And he had a skill that he clearly spent the time to perfect. His lips moved like they were dancing, and they were soft but not too soft. And his mouth tasted like the lemonade he'd been drinking. And then there was his tongue.

Wow!

It was like we spent forever like that, like everything was happening in slow motion. But it was still too fast for me to process, and out of sheer reflex, I let my hands grab on to his waist. Probably because I needed help standing because my knees were shaking. He must've noticed, because then his arms were around me, locked onto my back, and he pulled me closer to him as he fell into the wall for support. And he was warm. So warm. His body was a lot smaller than mine, he wasn't nearly as bulky or as tall, but he was lean and firm to my touch. It was so much different than any other kiss I'd ever had—but I had only kissed two different people in my life. I guess Patrick made that three. And seeing as how the other two were girls, I could understand why it was so different. Different, but…familiar. Almost like this was how every kiss should have been.

And then it was over.

He pulled away and had to push me back slightly, his hand resting on my chest as if to keep me at arm's length. His ears were like stop lights, and his lips were slightly swollen. But his breathing matched mine—spastic and heavy.

"Holy shit," he finally said, laughing as he let his head fall back against the wall, taking his hand back.

My chest felt like it was on fire, right where his hand had been. I was dizzy, light-headed I guess, and my knees were still shaking like I'd just gotten off my first boat ride.

I copied his laugh, because it felt right. It really and truly did. "Yeah…" I said in between, "Wow…"

"So…there you go," he said matter-of-factly. That kiss had obviously rekindled his confidence, because he wasn't mumbling or stuttering anymore. "That's why I think you should stick around."

I nodded, unable to argue. "Yeah, uh, if I didn't want to stay before, I'd say you just gave me plenty of reason."

I looked at him and our eyes met for the first time in a long time. But it was comfortable. It wasn't awkward. It wasn't like some silent, unspoken challenge. It was like for the first time since we'd met, we finally understood each other.

—7—

"Yeah, no, everything's fine now," Patrick was saying. "We just weren't sure if Rheas was still out there looking for us or not."

I watched the way he talked on the phone—it was a lot like my Dyn. He paced back and forth in a small circle, gesturing with his hands like the person on the other side of the phone could see him or something.

To keep myself busy, I rubbed Tia's neck scruff, making baby sounds at her. I wasn't sure why, but I really liked this puppy. She seemed to get it. All she liked to do was eat and then be cuddled and coddled. That was seriously all I'd seen her do. A few times she tried to get me to play, so I'd toss something for her to play with—usually a little tennis ball. She wasn't so good at bringing it back, so I'd just watch her attempt to destroy it with her little baby teeth. I found myself wondering why it was in her nature to attack the ball. Was it something she was just programmed to do, so she did it, or did she make a decision to do it?

I guess I was being too philosophical and looking for ways to relate my suddenly overly-complicated life to the simple life of a puppy. It sure as hell would have been nice to sit here and eat, play, and then be pampered. So long as Patrick was the one paying attention to me.

I blushed at my own thoughts.

I didn't have any right to be thinking the way I was. After all, as he'd mentioned, I was in a relationship. And even if I did end up staying on Earth, breaking up with Beth was going to be damn near impossible.

She was a…well, honestly, she wasn't a nice girl. At all. I knew the only reason we dated was because she cared about the 'status.' Whatever that meant. To her, high school was the world. And she lived to rule it, she made no secrets about that. But for some reason, I didn't care that she was using me. Whether or not she really had feelings for me never crossed my mind, because…well, I wasn't sure if I had feelings for her. Our relationship felt more like an obligation than anything.

It wasn't to say I didn't like her. I did. Her family had welcomed me with open arms, and coming from a Latino family, that meant the world to her. So even though she was short-tempered and sarcastic and materialistic, there was a side of her I did like. When we were alone, she'd help me. Like I'd told Patrick, it wasn't that I was stupid, I just needed help connecting the dots sometimes. That's what she did for me. Like with physics. I never understood it because, honestly, who the hell did? Displacement and distance? I had no idea what the difference was.

She broke it down for me in terms I could understand. And then I was a physics genius. And she did the same thing with almost all of my classes—especially Spanish. And even though I knew she only did it because she couldn't afford for me to not be an athlete, I liked to tell myself that there was a part of her that also did it so I wouldn't fail out of life.

So how was I supposed to tell her that I was either leaving forever, or—good news!—I would be staying on Earth, but trying to date the guy I used to hate?

She would probably kill me. Or have me killed.

Literally.

"Hello? Earth to Aaron."

"Huh?"

I looked up and stopped petting Tia, who groaned and whined when my hand stilled.

"Did you hear what I said?" Patrick asked me, setting his phone down on the coffee table. "Doc said to meet Grace at lunch. She has a free block afterward and can apparently use her Morpher to diagnose yours."

"Why can't he do it?" I asked, confused. "I mean, no offense to you or Grace, but…is she really qualified to be poking around with these things?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, but Doc seems to think so. He said something about a 'bond' between the Shadow and Light Morphers, so maybe she just needs to give yours a jump or something. But he said he'd meet you guys after his meeting."

I made a face.

"What?" he asked.

"His meeting. It's probably with my parents."

He sat down next to me on the couch and Tia jumped out of my lap to go to him. "Maybe that's a good thing? Once you get your Morpher stuff figured out, maybe you can go meet with them before it's over and get your two cents in."

"Yeah…"

"Hey," he said, nudging me with his elbow, "don't be so negative about it. Attitude is everything. If you go into it thinking there's no hope, there's not gonna be any."

I looked over at him. "How the hell do you come up with this stuff? Are you really like, 40? Cuz…you don't sound like a normal teenager."

He grinned arrogantly. "I'm a Virgo. We're infinitely wise beyond our years."

I rolled my eyes, smiling at his lame astrology. "If you say so."

"Trust me," he said, "everything's gonna be alright. You just gotta have a little faith."

I wanted to kiss him again. Not just because it was amazing, but because…I dunno. He always knew what to say. And everything I'd seen in the movies told me that when your, uh…person of interest…yeah, when they said the perfect thing, you thanked them with a kiss.

But I didn't, because I didn't know if it was okay. I didn't know if I was trying to get too comfortable with this too quick.

But he was Patrick, so of course he picked up on it. Either the guy secretly had telepathy and was reading my mind every step of the way, or he really did just get me. He leaned over, Tia still in his lap, and tried to kiss me.

Until his puppy intercepted with her long, slimy tongue.

"BLEGH! Tia!" he shouted.

She turned around, giving him her best puppy dog eyes and a matching whimper.

I couldn't hold back my laughter.

"Let me lock this mutt up and then we can hit the road," he said.

In that second, I kinda hated that dog for ruining our moment. Things were already awkward enough for me, and she just had to go and steal my thunder. It was probably the first time I'd been blocked by a dog.

But when Patrick returned, he didn't hesitate to jump me. And I have to admit, while a huge part of me thought it was weird to be making out so heavily with a guy, a part of me was trying to scream that I'd been waiting for this. I just didn't think my first kiss would be with Patrick. He seemed to be a hell of a lot more comfortable with it than I was, at least. Which was weird, given I was the one with two male parents.

When he pulled away again, he patted my chest and told me to get ready to leave. Then he said it as he stood up and stretched.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but…we have a lot of work to do on your kissing skills."

I glared at him.

"I told you not to take it the wrong way."

"Well, if I'm so bad at it, why don't you go practice with Tia? She seemed pretty interested."

He raised an eyebrow, then grinned evilly. "I couldn't really tell the difference between you two."

I punched him.

I mean, not really. But I hit him square in the shoulder.

"I'm just kidding! Jeez, take it easy!" he rubbed his shoulder as he grabbed his car keys and backpack. "We don't all have alien super strength."

"That's not because I'm an alien," I shot back, "it's because I work out."

"Oh-ho-ho, excuse me Mr. Muscles."

"Keep talking like that and you'll find out."

He wagged his eyebrows at me. "I'm sure I will."

Were we flirting? Is that what this was? I had to admit, it was a lot like fighting…only…without the hurt feelings. Probably not the healthiest thing, but I wasn't complaining.

"Well, since you're apparently the master of kissing, I'd be more than happy to learn a thing or two from you."

"All in due time, young grasshopper, all in due time."

Assuming we had time.

I didn't say anything else, I just smiled as he locked up his apartment. I didn't want to bring the mood down with my negativity, so I kept it to myself, but I had a feeling my luck was about to kick in. And I didn't mean the good kind. My good luck had already kicked in by giving me this weird new relationship with Patrick. The bad luck was just waiting to rear its head, I could feel it.

—7—

We made it to school without being attacked again, thank the heavens, and riding with Patrick now was a lot different than it was this morning. He was an interesting driver—one who liked to belt out whatever song came on through his speakers. Naturally, because he was perfect, he had a singing voice I could get used to. So I just sat back and listened. And every once in a while, he would purposely mess up his voice to mock the artist—whiny, high-pitched, nasally—it didn't matter who it was. He just liked to sing.

I was starting to notice a pattern with him, and it was becoming more obvious that the guy just loved artsy stuff. Which was cool, I guessed, but I wasn't like that. At all. I mean, sure, I listened to music and watched movies and could appreciate special effects. But that was about it. I wasn't big on reading. Or writing. Or drawing. Or any of that stuff. And it kind of worried me that, if a miracle were to happen, and I were to stay, Patrick would get to really know me. He would learn that I wasn't anything like him, and I couldn't appreciate the things he did.

Would we still be friends, then? Or whatever we were trying to become?

I didn't know.

"You're not even listening to me!"

"Huh? Yes I am," I defended myself, though I wasn't quite sure what I was defending against. For a second, I wasn't even sure where I was.

Oh, I remembered now.

I was at school. And I was defending myself against my girlfriend, Beth.

She was always claiming I wasn't listening to her. She was always on my case about something. And the only reason I put up with it was because I didn't know what a relationship should be like—at least, not until I started thinking about one with Patrick. Now, it was like I was starting to notice all the things she did that really irritated the hell out of me.

"Of course I'm listening, babe," I said reflexively. There was no sincerity in my voice, and to be honest, I didn't care.

"Ugh…whatever," she groaned, "where were you this morning? You missed like, half the day."

"Yeah, I uh, I got caught up with some stuff."

"Some stuff?" she repeated disbelievingly. "Wanna elaborate?"

"Not really."

Then she got that look. The raised eyebrows, the slightly parted lips, and the eyes that said I had no idea who I was talking to. "Excuse me?"

"Look, can we not do this right now?" I snapped, not bothering to mask my annoyance. "I just…I've got a lot going on, and the last thing I need right now is to argue with you."

"Oh, it is so not an argument," she fired back, "you need two people for that. Have fun arguing with yourself."

She grabbed her purse in a huff, swinging her blazing hair back behind her shoulder as she sashayed off to her girlfriends. Normally, this was what I dreaded. The minute she would get over to her clique, she'd tell them about what an 'asshole' I was. And then everyone would be talking about it. And then I'd get confronted by like, six different girls in every single one of my classes, until Jay would hound me about why I would put up with her.

"Hey dude."

I looked up from my sandwich, squinting in the sunlight.

Speak of the devil.

"Hey, man, what's up?" I greeted Jay, who sat down next to me.

"Not much, we missed you this morning. You missed a sick ass fight with the Gigadroids."

"What, you guys got attacked, too?"

"What do you mean, 'too?' Is that why you were gone all day? You get jumped by those tin cans?"

I nodded. I didn't want to go too far into detail with him. Jay would be able to tell if I was hiding something, so the less I spoke, the better.

"Weird man, I hope it's not like this every day," he said, pulling out his lunch. "Amy's all on my case, too. About this whole 'working as a team' thing."

"She's got a point," I responded. "We're stronger that way."

I think he could tell something was up based on my short responses. But if he did suspect something, he didn't say anything about it. He looked like he was about to when he paused to take out his bag of chips. Instead, he just grunted and opened them up, munching on them loudly.

"So what's up with Beth? What's she bitching about now?"

"Same old, same old."

He sighed.

"What?" I asked.

"What are you not telling me?"

Fuck.

I knew it was only a matter of time.

"It's…it's nothing, man, it's just about my Morphers. They messed up this morning and I had to get a ride from Patrick. Dude saved me again."

"That fuckin' kid," he sneered, "what was he doing, following you or something?"

"No! Why would he be following me?"

Now he really looked at me.

Damn it. I forgot that wouldn't have been my typical response. My typical answer would have been, "probably. Fucking weirdo."

Was it too late to recover?

"Hey, Aaron!"

Yes! Saved by a bodiless voice calling my name!

I looked up to see Grace trotting down the stairs, her long blond hair twisted into a high-ponytail. Great. She was in business mode. This was gonna be a blast…

And then I remembered Beth and I were fighting. Now, I wasn't so good with social interactions, but I knew enough about them to know this wasn't going to go over well. Reefside was stereotypical high school to the tee and everyone was divided into neat little categories. The categories were easily identified at lunch, because, of course, we all sat together. It was an undisturbed tradition. For example, the majority of the sports teams sat around the fountain in the middle of the school's courtyard. If you weren't an athlete, you didn't sit there. And even if you were, you needed to be a popular athlete. Grace was neither, anymore.

"Oh hell no."

That was all I heard from Beth, and it was all I needed to hear to know shit was about to go down.

"Dude…back me up here," I said to Jay frantically, looking at him.

He was still eying me suspiciously, but even he could tell we were about to have another fight on our hands. And we all knew what happened the last time we got into a fight.

"What is she doing here? And what does she want with you?" Beth demanded, marching over with a crew of three cheerleaders.

"We have a thing we have to do," Grace said pointedly.

Whew. I was sure Grace was going to have something clever to say.

"Um, what do you mean a thing?"

"Like something to do."

Beth looked back at her friends for clarification, I guess, waiting for them to agree with her on something that I had no idea even existed. Were they fighting now? Did Grace secretly insult her or something?

"Is she for real right now?" Beth asked them.

I heard whispered "oh my God"s and "no she didn't." Seriously? What the hell was going on?

"It's really not that big of a deal," Grace said. Now I could kind of hear it in her tone. Beth had explained this to me once before. It wasn't what a girl said, it was how she said it. "You don't need to worry about it."

"Oh hell no," Beth snapped.

"Beth, come on…" I half-pleaded. "She didn't even say anything wrong."

"Oh-ho-ho no! I know exactly what she meant by 'don't worry about it.' Well, don't be fooled sweetie, trust me when I say, I've got something for you to worry about. Te juro, puta! No quieres a ver me venga loca, chica! Don't piss me off!"

"You mind muzzling your guard dog, Aaron?" Grace asked me sweetly. "I don't want to get her crazy on me."

"Keep it up, bitch, and I'll muzzle you permanently!"

"Seriously?" I moaned.

I was not in the mood for this.

All I wanted to do was go back to Patrick's apartment and escape this crap. A few hours ago, this was all I wanted to deal with. Now…all I wanted to do was get away from it. So much drama!

"We have to meet with Doctor Oliver about our Community Service assignments," Jay lied.

And he did it way better than I could have.

Beth and Grace were still locked in a staring contest. I could hear Beth's cheerleader friends, a couple girls I knew from physics class, mumbling under their breath. "She's not worth it, B."

Beth giggled arrogantly. "Oh, oh that's right! Hah! Have fun with that. I hope they make you guys were those hideous orange jumpsuits." She turned to walk away, and then looked over her shoulder. "Then again, anything would be an improvement over that discount bin tank top, wouldn't it Blondie?"

"Guess you'd know how to spot discount merch from a mile away, wouldn't you? Cheap slut."

"WHAT?!"

"Come on!" Jay finally shouted. "Can you both just shut the fuck up and get over yourselves?!"

Everyone was silent.

"Damn…" Jay mumbled. "Let's go."

That was my cue. Jay and I backtracked to grab our backpacks and I heard him say as quietly as possible, "bitches are crazy, man."

I nodded silently, thinking to myself that this was the exact reason I was crushing on Patrick. Because he wasn't a girl. I grabbed my backpack and went to follow Jay, but Beth tried to cut me off.

"I'm sorry I'm being such a bitch today," she said in her baby voice. I knew she wanted something. Or she was afraid that I was gonna go cheat on her with Grace or something stupid. "You know how she gets under my skin."

I tried to ignore the fact that she was being a bitch long before Grace came over, but I didn't say anything.

And then she tried to kiss me, and for some reason, I couldn't do it.

"Yeah, I gotta go," I said quickly, shrugging past her to join Grace and Jay.

I think I made out a scoff and some snide remark about me being a 'douche bag' but I let it roll off me for the sake of my sanity. I didn't have time to be bothered with her. At all. And suddenly, breaking up with her became a priority on my list of things to do before the day was over with. If this proved anything to me, it was that I needed to stay on Earth to show people who I really was. I was tired of everyone forcing me into their roles for me, and then getting an attitude when I didn't fit.

That was over.

"Hey, hey, hey, look who it is—Rangers White and Yellow, right on time."

"Seriously, dude, do you want us to get caught?" Jay said to Matt, who had just popped up from his own crew of swimmers. "Doc's gonna chop your wrists off and take those Morphers back faster than you can say demoted."

"Seriously, though, Matt—keep a lid on it. I can hear you from a mile away."

"Where the hell did you come from?" Matt half-screamed, looking down at Amy.

"I was watching the fireworks between Beth and Grace from a safe distance."

"Midgets man…you guys just hide out where no one can see you."

"Shut up, Matt," Jay and Amy said together.

"Where are we going?" I asked Grace, chuckling to myself at the Blue and Pink Rangers.

"We gotta find Patrick. He has the Alpha Morpher."

"Ah, okay," I said, "then we should probably split the Morphers up and search for the Red Ranger in groups of two."

"Two?" Jay asked. "There's five of us. Or six if you count that—" He fell short of his insult when Amy glared at him. "Six if you count Patrick."

"Count me for what?"

There he was.

I had to fight a smile. Somehow, he looked even better than he had this morning. Probably because he'd taken off his jacket. I had to tear my eyes away from his to keep from blowing our cover, but it felt like we had our own secret greeting with just our eyes. I liked the little thrill that jolted into my stomach when I thought about it. It was secretive, but it was ours.

"Ah, there you are," Grace said, greeting him, "we were just talking about finding you so we can find the Red Ranger."

"Oh, sorry, I had to stay late and finish my French poem with "Madame" DuPont. First test grade of the year." He rolled his eyes in irritation as he steadied his backpack strap. "Anyway…I was gonna suggest splitting up to look for him, we'll cover more ground that way."

"Yeah, Aaron already said that," Jay said shortly.

"Oh, cool, great minds think alike," he said.

Everyone stared silently.

Maybe he forgot that it was weird for him to compliment me in public.

"Right," Grace choked out in the middle of bitchy giggles, "so, yeah. Teams of two."

"Jay and Amy, why don't you guys check the lower half of the school—Matt and Patrick can check the other half," I said, happy to shift the attention off Patrick's slip up.

"Where are you and Grace goin?" Jay wondered.

I could hear the suspicion in his voice. Did everyone really think I wanted to bang Grace? Was this really what I'd made people think of me over the years? Guess I had taken my "cover" a little too seriously. And I'd made it work almost hauntingly too well.

"She needs to run a test on my Morphers to see what's up with them," I said slowly and firmly.

"Yeah," Grace said, "Patrick told me all about what happened this morning. You might need more help than I can give."

I didn't know if it was because so much had happened this morning or what, but I was suddenly worried that Patrick and I had different expectations of each other. Had he told Grace about everything? Did he tell all of his friends? Even my 'cover' wouldn't save me from how awkward that conversation would be.

Maybe it was just the look on my face or something, I dunno, but Amy snorted in laughter.

"What?" I demanded defensively. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she admitted, confused and quiet. "I just…thought it was funny that she said you might need help…"

I glared. I wasn't sure if she was being honest or if she knew, too. And suddenly, I was a hell of a lot more paranoid than I remembered being this morning. That thrill I felt just moments ago just from looking Patrick in the eyes was turning into a blistering hot fear. What was this going to do our team dynamic—if we even if had a team dynamic? Amy was still in love with Patrick, Jay hated Patrick, and all of Patrick's friends hated me. And Jay. So how the hell was I going to make that work and still try to figure out what the hell was going on with Patrick? And even more importantly…what the hell was I going to do about my family?