Kal
“Oh god, oh god.” Lola’s face was pale gray-green, and I knew that because she was standing a hairsbreadth away from me, screaming.
I ripped at the hu-suit that was sliding down my face, crumpling clumsily to the floor. My top tentacles popped out, and Lola screamed harder. Then my bottom tentacles, and she slapped her hands over her mouth and pushed away from me.
I was breaking all the terranaut rules and doing it all at once. I got too close to a human; I let one see me outside of the hu-suit. Worse, the way she was looking at me made my stomach sour. All it took was one small screw-up, and everything was ruined, just like that.
“What on Earth,” Lola shouted, backing away from me. “What the hell are you?”
The words stung. I wanted to explain. No, I needed to explain.
But how? My mouth was open, but I didn’t know what to tell her.
The truth? I made a split-second decision.
Yes, I would tell Lola the truth. Then, when she was done panicking, I would leave her.
I would leave Roswell Falls—a place that had quickly begun to feel like home.
I would find a way to get to the Roswell station, turn myself in to the Xaereans there, and take the first pod back to my home planet.
Whatever fate awaited me there couldn’t be as awful as this.
“I can explain,” I said, putting my hands and tentacles up, taking a half step forward. Then I said the only other thing I could think of—a line I’d learned long ago in my human studies. “I come in peace!”
“Oh my god, you’re a freaking alien!”
Lola tried again to back away, and I tried to follow. But my toe caught in the pool of hu-suit around my ankles, sending me lunging forward in a whirl of arms and tentacles.
Lola shrieked in alarm and turned to run, but her foot caught on the leg of a wire rack. She tumbled, losing her balance. I watched as Lola threw her hands out to break her fall. I thrust my tentacles forward to do the same, but was a split second too late.
Lola hit the ground with a cry. She hugged her knees to her chest and rolled over on her side, her arm tucked gingerly in the hollow of her body.
And she was crying. What had I done?
I approached Lola again. She stayed motionless on the floor, breathing interrupted by shallow sobs. I paused at her side.
“Go away!” Lola sneered at me from her curled position on the floor. “Please just go away,” she sniffled. “I don’t want you to abduct me and…” there was a dry, hollow sound as she swallowed a gulp, “p-probe me.”
“I’m not going to abduct you,” I said, dropping to my knees beside Lola. I didn’t dare touch her, but my hands hovered above her side, waiting.
“Oh great, so you’re just going to probe me,” Lola sobbed.
“I’m not going to do that either, Lola! I would never hurt you,” I said.
“But, and I cannot stress this enough,” Lola said with a wobbly voice, “you’re an alien. Why would I believe you?”
“Because I’m not an alien! Well, I am. But I’m not what you think. You know, dangerous. I’m just…I’m just a screwup,” I said, throwing my tentacles up. “I’m a nobody who can’t ever do anything right. And I should…” I paused, swallowed.
“I should go,” I said. “Just let me help. Then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
Lola looked at me with tears in her eyes. I could see her pain, and I knew it was my fault. When things went wrong, they were always my fault.
“Please,” I added pathetically.
After a long moment, Lola sat up and nodded.
Permission to help. As gently as I could manage, I scooped her into my tentacles and carried her to the office.
I could feel her fluttering pulse as I placed her on the cushions, and I found that I much preferred the quickening of her heartbeat when our lips had touched.
Lola looked up at me from the sunken cushion, her lovely twin blue-moon eyes holding me in a trance.
She studied my face first, her eyes taking in my messy green hair, made messier by the human suit.
Then my shoulders and chest. I knew exactly when she let her eyes land on my tentacles, because I saw her throat work through a silent sob.
My tentacles twitched under her observation, moving self-consciously over my stomach and through my hair, twisting at the ends.
Lola’s gaze moved lower, and she gasped. That was when I realized I was wearing only the underclothes I had on under the hu-suit. I was practically naked.
I rushed to the kitchen to retrieve my abandoned suit.
I stepped into it quickly, fastening the material at my hips, letting the top half hang heavy around my torso.
There was no way I could fully go back inside the suit—not with the way I was breathing rapidly, shallowly, on the verge of a panic attack.
When I reentered the office, Lola glanced at me half-dressed and squeaked. Then she averted her eyes and opted to stare just to the left of me. I stood in silence, waiting for Lola to speak first.
“It’s my wrist,” she said. “I think I sprained it when I fell.”
Lola held her right arm out. We both winced when we saw how it had swelled to twice its former size. She wiggled the tips of her fingers with a hiss.
“Okay, I definitely sprained it.”
Lola continued to avoid looking at me, and it stung.
“There’s a first aid kit in the bottom drawer of the desk. It’s probably over a decade old, and the painkillers are surely expired, but there should be a bandage in there. A, um, white thing that comes in a roll,” she added, finally meeting my eyes and noting my confused look.
I shuffled to the desk and found the kit.
“I don’t suppose you know how to wrap a sprained wrist?” Lola asked with a raised eyebrow. “Or a, uh…sprained…tentacle?”
She shifted awkwardly, reaching around her middle and twisting her hips until she could grab the small rectangular comms deck from her back pocket. “Here. I need you to do this.”
Lola pulled up instructions, and I read through them three times straight. I needed to get this one thing right.
When I was finally ready, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“May I touch you?” I asked.
Lola flinched and my heart dropped. But then she said, “Yes,” through gritted teeth.
With a gentle steadiness, I supported Lola’s hand with my own and used my tentacles to gently wrap the bandage around her tender skin.
When I was done, Lola wriggled her fingers again, but her eyes stayed dry.
I must not have messed up, which was some relief—at least I hadn’t caused her even more pain.
There was a long silence. Then: “You’re an alien. A real-life alien.”