Take Me To Your Reader: An Otherworld Anthology (19 page)

"Here, use your palms to push it out at the edges," Becca said, showing me how to work the edges of the dough into a circular shape. "Make the edges thicker for the crust," she added.

I did as she asked while she sprinkled flour over the surface.
"Like this?" I asked.

"
Perfect," she said.

Becca
's face crinkled as she attempted to twist open a jar of tomato sauce. After a failed effort, she held the jar out to me sheepishly. "Will you?"

I took the jar and was careful to exert only the necessary strength. The jar opened with a pop and I handed it back.

"Thanks." Our fingers brushed as she took the jar, and the soft tingles left behind distracted me. Becca seemed distracted by it a well, her gaze lingering on mine. I tried to think of something to say, but like before, nothing I was allowed to say felt authentic enough for someone like her. She deserved the truth—the one thing I couldn't give. I remained silent as she poured the sauce. When it was spread, she handed me a can of mushrooms and we took turns dropping ingredients over the pie.

"
You're good in the kitchen," I said as she slid the pizza into the oven.

She shrugged.
"It helps when I feel blocked." I cocked my head, trying to decipher her meaning. "I'm an artist," she explained. "The paintings along that wall, they're mine. When I feel blocked and I need an outlet or inspiration, I cook."

"
You painted those?" I pointed at the framed canvasses hanging across the room. They were images of landscapes, but with such vivid color, I knew they weren't anything from this world. Becca's imagination was rich. Even after only a week among humans, I appreciated that about her. Most of them seemed so stuck and limited in their view. Their minds were so closed. It's why no one even noticed Marnie's outburst on the sidewalk earlier.

"
They're amazing," I said after studying each one. It seemed the more I learned about Becca, the more I wanted to know.

"
Thanks. It's more of a hobby for now but maybe someday …"

"
They're fantastic. Why wouldn't you share them?"

Her cheeks reddened. For the first time since we
'd met, she seemed uncertain of herself. "I don't know. I have a lot to learn," she said quietly.

I shook my head, determined to leave her with something. Even if it was only a shred of the confidence she deserved.
"An open mind is always learning, or willing to. Doesn't mean you can't also be great."

She blinked at me.
"Wow, that was deep. And true. Thank you, Axel. You're different than I expected."

"
Different how?"

Her lips curved upward.
"Most criminals aren't nearly as thoughtful as you are."

"
What can I say?" I shrugged. "I'm well-rounded."

She laughed.

Cooked pizza dough was nothing like the smushed, uncooked version I
'd pressed out earlier. It held just the right amount of crunch and flavor to be delicious despite the pre-packaged, stale ingredients we'd added on top. Panmeran foods were always fresh. Earth's foods were either boxed or sprayed with so many chemicals, it was a wonder it didn't all resemble cardboard. But this, I enjoyed.

Becca seemed impressed when I collected the empty plates and carried them to the sink. Although it was decidedly different from the way we cleaned at home, the ritual was enjoyable. Becca stood nearby, her hip propped against the counter, drying the dishes as I finished washing. Again, I was reminded of Colryn. The way he used to do the same, hovering over me and pointing out when I missed a spot. I
'd scowl and he'd laugh good-naturedly. Who knew, a year after his death, washing tomato sauce from plates with a human girl would give me the closest connection I'd had since losing him.

"
Hello? Earth to Axel? Are you there?"

"
Hmm? Oh. Sorry." I found Becca watching me, lips pursed.

"
I lost you for a moment. Where'd you go?"

I debated for a split second before forging ahead with more truth.
"Doing the dishes, preparing a meal—It reminds me of my brother, Colryn."

"
I didn't know you had a brother. What's he like?"

"
He was …" It wasn't easy explaining Colryn in only a few words. "Thoughtful. And kind. And a jokester. And a loner. A secret-keeper and … a writer. He was a lot of things. But mostly, he was my best friend."

"
Was?"

"
He died last year."

"
Oh, I'm so sorry, Axel. How did it happen?"

Again, a hesitation even as I made the decision to be honest—or as honest as I could be while still maintaining the lie of being human. The more time I spent with Becca, the harder that lie became. I didn
't want to bother with it. I wanted her to know me. But that was impossible. "We aren't sure, exactly. He came to—He came here. For spring break, like me. When his time was up, he decided to stay. He told my parents it was to pursue his writing, but no one really knew. My parents were … not happy with his decision to remain."

Understatement. Try livid. Furious. They disowned him. Disconnected his communicator.

"They stopped speaking to him and forbade anyone else from contacting him as well," I went on. "A few months later, a group of our friends came here for a short vacation and ran into Colryn at a sidewalk café. He was hit by a car crossing the street as he left them."

"
Oh, that must've been so horrible." Becca's eyes filled with tears and her face reflected my thoughts as I recounted the parts of the story I could share without raising her suspicions.

I cleared my throat, pushing away the images in my mind. I hadn
't seen it for myself, but after spending the week here watching angry drivers and reckless cabs, I could imagine. "Yeah, it's been rough."

The truth was, Colryn had taken one look at the three Panmerans here for their Rumschpringe and fled. He
'd been killed out of sheer panic—and I had no idea why.

Why would he run from his own kind? It was a question that still had no answers. One of many.

But seeing Becca's sympathetic reaction to my story dulled the frustration I carried of not knowing. For once, it was simply about Colryn. And how I'd lost my best friend that day. No. Not that day. I'd lost him months earlier, when he'd chosen Earth instead of Panmera. Instead of home—and me. He'd cited his writing, going on about humans and how fascinating their behavior was to him.

"
They spend millions of dollars on war and weapons and killing each other in a way they can call civilized so they can sleep at night. But in the same day a battle is waged over motor oil, a man who drives his house around raised enough money to provide sustainable energy and water to a village in Kenya."

"
What's motor oil?" my dad had asked.

"
And where's Kenya?" my mother added.

"
You're missing the point," Colryn had said, so wrapped up in frustration and passion he didn't hear the disgust in their voices.  "They are such a contradiction. Hating and loving in the same breath. I can't leave now. There's too much here."

"
There's nothing there," my dad argued, his tone transforming from confused and irritated to stone-cold. "Your mother, brother, and I—we're here. Waiting for you to take your place as head of this family. There is no question of your return. You are Panmeran. Not human."

"
Dad, I … I can't," Colryn whispered in a pained voice.

"
You can and you will. The shuttle is on its way. You must exit your host and—"

Colryn cut him off.
"I've already done the ritual. My body is permanent."

My mother gasped. I
'd never seen my father so still. Not even during his rest-cycle. More words were exchanged, but I hadn't heard them. My mind had reeled. Colryn had chosen to stay. We'd always been told stories of this and how the one affected would like victimized somehow. Hollow eyes, anguished faces, like the choice hadn't really been theirs. Like it was something forcing them—the Force. But from what I could see on the hologram projection hovering above the communicator, Colryn's only anguish seemed to come from disappointing my parents. And me. His eyes had pleaded with me for forgiveness, but I'd said nothing as my parents banished him and shut down the communicator. The shock had been too great. And then he was gone. I hadn't really lost him in the car accident. I'd lost him well before that—to the Force.

My thoughts drifted to Bone and how I
'd almost lost him today, too. 

"
I really need to get going," I said, suddenly panicked as I remembered my agreement with Marnie. I wasn't sure how much time had passed since we'd split off, but I knew it'd been more than the three hours we'd agreed upon. "I promised Bone I would meet them back at the hotel a while ago. I know they'll worry."

"
Right. Yeah. I'll get my keys." Becca pushed off from the counter and whatever moment we'd shared as a result of my story faded away. It caused an ache in my chest, knowing the strongest connection I'd made since Colryn was with this strange girl who, after today, I would never see again.

"
I think it might be better if I go alone," I said as she disappeared into another room.

"
No way." She returned with a set of keys in one hand. "You shouldn't be walking around on the street. And besides, I need to find Marnie."

I agreed.

She led us back down the set of stairs, closing and locking the door behind us. On the street, the traffic picked up as humans rushed home from work, but that was probably for the best. Made it easier to blend in. Neither of us spoke on the drive back. I wasn't sure what to say. Conversation seemed so pointless with my imminent departure.

I
'd never had to say goodbye before. Well, besides Colryn, and he couldn't exactly hear me by the time I'd said my final farewell.

Becca parked in the lot behind the hotel and we rode the elevator to the ninth floor. I remained watchful, but there was no evidence of police or anyone else following us as we made our way to the suite. I hoped that meant everyone had made it back. I didn
't want to think what would happen if one of us was missing when the shuttle came.

I inserted my key card into the slot and waited for the soft beep that signaled the lock disengaging. When I heard the click, I pushed the door open and entered cautiously.

"Bone? Dieben?" I called.

The common room looked slightly better than when I
'd left it this morning. Someone had set the furniture upright although it wasn't in its original position. The cartons of noodles had been picked up and placed in the now overflowing trash can. The best part about going home would be escaping the smell that hung in the air. Old noodles. Gross.

Becca wrinkled her nose.
"Next time, steal some air freshener too," she said.

I caught muffled voices coming from the far end of the space. I headed for the bedroom Bone and I had shared for the past week.
"Bone?" I called, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

I stopped, my hand still on the knob.
"Oh." At the sight of Bone and Marnie sprawled on the bed, arms and legs tangled, mouths mashed together, I stumbled back and pulled the door closed with a hard click.

Behind me, Becca laughed.
"Looks like they weren't as worried as you thought," she said.

I was speechless. The host
's brain explained the scene as kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. "Making out," he called it. But I'd spent the last few hours as far from my human's thoughts as possible. I'd wanted to enjoy my time with Becca as myself. If that was possible while inhabiting a foreign body. So, at the sight of Bone and Marnie kissing, confusion took over and I felt my mouth turn down in a frown.

The image pervading my mind had replaced Bone and Marnie with myself and Becca. My human limbs ached to touch her in the exact ways I
'd witnessed a moment ago. The desire was so strong, I could feel its pull like a physical thing. A line, a wire, connecting the two of us, inching me forward. Closer and closer. If I reached out and touched her, would she touch me back? Would she—

"
What's wrong?" Becca asked.

"
Oh. Nothing," I said, blinking my way out of whatever pull had almost made me do something so completely forbidden, I felt like a traitor for even imagining it. Panmerans observed humans, used them for entertainment and distraction. Nothing more. And when we were finished, we left them and never, ever returned. 

So why couldn
't I stop wondering what it would be like to spend another day with Becca—a day not spent running from authorities?

"
Becca, I—"

The bedroom door flung open and Bone appeared, wild-eyed and disheveled. Marnie was close behind, hair and clothing in much the same state.
"Axel," Bone said, his face a contradiction of relief and worry. "I was scared that—I thought—Are you okay?"