Alienated

Chapter Six

What a crock—this was going to be a craptacular day.

But nobody would ever know it, because Cara lived by the first rule of debate: never let ’em see you sweat. She also lived by the first rule of getting over your asshole ex-boyfriend: never let ’em know it hurts.

She cranked up the stereo until her teeth vibrated in time with each screaming guitar riff, then tipped her head back and squeezed a few eyedrops beneath her lids to hide the evidence of her heartbreak. A little dab of skin cream smoothed the puffiness around her eyes, and after a heavy layer of makeup, she looked human again. No, not just human. Polished. Unaffected. She added a third coat of mascara—but not the waterproof kind. If she cried today, her face would look like a mudslide, and that was a pretty frickin’ good incentive to fight back tears.

Finally, she checked her reflection in the mirror—glossy auburn hair curling gently past her shoulders, nearly flawless skin, snug black top, gray plaid miniskirt, and the piece de resistance: black leather riding boots. Eric’s eyes had nearly bugged out of his head the last time she’d worn this out­fit. She wanted that jerkwad to know exactly what he was missing. After fastening the necklace Aelyx had given her—another silent screw you to Eric—she grabbed her backpack and ran outside.

Aelyx faced the woods and stretched his lithe body, raising his arms so high they lifted his T-shirt and gave her a peek at the strong planes of his lower back. Cara nibbled her thumb­nail, remembering how she’d caught him shirtless on his way to the shower yesterday. He’d tried covering his magnificent chest with a pair of folded pants, but that’d drawn her atten­tion to his flat, bronzed belly, somehow even hotter without its “button.”

Too bad his attitude didn’t match his looks, but then again, if it did, he wouldn’t be a L’eihr.

Deciding she would give him a fresh start today, she skipped down the steps, joining him at the head of the wooded path. “Ready to roll?”

When he whirled around, a spark flashed behind those silvery eyes, like flint striking steel, but it died in an instant, snuffed out by his inner zombie. He lowered his head and peered at her. “Are you all right?”

“It’s your first day of school on an alien planet, and you’re asking if I’m all right?”

“Losing a mate can be traumatic for hu—”

“Whoa.” She raised one brow and an index finger to match. “He was my boyfriend, not my mate. We never . . . mated.”

“All the same, it’s understandable—”

“Look, it’s sweet of you to ask.” Hitching her book bag over one shoulder, she nodded toward the path, and they began walking at an easy stroll. “Yeah, I’m bummed, but it had to happen sooner or later. I’ll miss the old Eric, but that’s not the guy I broke up with last night. Does that make sense?”

Aelyx shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know what quali­ties you ever saw in him. I can tell why he chose you, but—”

“Oh, yeah?” Cara’s spirits lifted as she sensed a compli­ment coming on. “Why do you think he chose me?”

“It’s obvious.” He swept a hand to indicate her loose curls. “Your long, shiny hair, healthy skin, and bright eyes show that you’re well-nourished.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“I’m not finished.”

“Go on, then.”

“You’re clearly intelligent.” Then he felt the need to add, “For a human.”

“Gee. That’s so sweet.”

“But Eric was probably most attracted to your waist-to-hip ratio.” For a split second, Aelyx resembled a human boy as he leaned back and peered at her caboose. “Hips of that width are likely to pass live offspring without complications.”

Cara nearly swallowed her own tongue. She didn’t have big hips, did she? More importantly, had she really expected a genuine compliment from a L’eihr?

“Let’s not talk about me anymore,” she said, resolving to lay off the carbs, starting tomorrow. Wait, tomorrow was pasta night. She’d lay off the carbs Wednesday. “Let’s talk about you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“How can you be so calm? I’m secondhand nervous for you. I couldn’t even eat breakfast.” And that tragically neglected breakfast had been Mom’s throat-choking, triple chocolate chip pancakes—manna from heaven, proof that God loved her and wanted her to be happy.

To hell with cutting carbs. Life was too short for that nonsense.

“It’s predictable for humans to fear the unfamiliar,” he said. “I’m not human.”

“Oh, please. You’re not just a little scared?”

“I’m fine.” He favored her with a glance, empty and cold.

So he wouldn’t admit he was nervous. Typical guy. He had more in common with humans than he realized.

The distant sound of shoes slapping against the dirt path caught Cara’s attention, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Tori slow to a jog, waving one arm as if hailing a cab. This was unusual. Tori never walked to school—it cut ten whole minutes from her sleep schedule.

“Hey.” A light breeze tossed Cara’s hair into her face, and she tucked the locks behind her ears. While she paused, Aelyx continued walking, picking up his pace to either give them some space or to avoid Tori. Maybe a little of both. “Did you get towed again?”

“Nope. I’m your personal jock-blocker, baby.” Tori reached into her jeans pocket and handed over a half-eaten Snickers bar. “Happy Douche Liberation Day.” Then, nodding at the chocolate offering, she added, “I started celebrating without you.

“Just finish it.” Cara’s stomach was already full. Of butter­flies on meth. “Do I want to know what a jock-blocker does?”

Linking arms, they scrambled to catch up with Aelyx, who had already put the distance of half a soccer field between them. “I’m here to make sure you don’t let that carajo sweet-talk you into getting back together.”

“Wait, what?” Would Eric want her back?

“Don’t even think it,” Tori warned.

“Easy for you to say. You’d take Jared Lee back in a hot second.”

“Assuming we were together—which we’re not—and assuming he was a raging asshole—which he’s not—I’d dump his carcass and move on.” Tori tugged her brows low and leaned to the side, scanning Cara’s outfit before clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Speaking of which, what’s with the date bait?”

“What’s with the third degree?”

“Here’s a question for ya.” Tori pointed her Snickers at the honey-brown ponytail hanging between Aelyx’s shoulders. “Does the Outer Space Creep probe you in your sleep?”

“Shh!” Cara couldn’t help giggling, but she gave Tori’s arm a hard bump, sending her candy bar sailing into the underbrush. “I hope Aelyx doesn’t have friends like you, or my turn on L’eihr is gonna suck.”

Something in her words must’ve upset Tori, because she grabbed her braid and used the end like a paintbrush against her lips, a nervous habit she’d picked up in the seventh grade. With one corner of her mouth puckering into a frown, Tori watched Aelyx silently for a few seconds before announcing, “I wanna talk to the A-Licker.”

“Fine, but play nice or take your ball and go home.” Cara flashed an I’m not screwing around look. “This is hard for him, and it’s my responsibility to—”

“Yeah.” Tori rolled her eyes. “I bet he cries himself to sleep every night. Right before he sticks alien trackers up your butt.” After tugging free, she jogged to catch Aelyx, and Cara sprinted along, preparing to tackle her best friend and clap both hands over her mouth if she got too saucy.

“Hey.” Tori panted after catching up with him. “I need to know something.”

Aelyx slowed his pace, heaving a sigh that contradicted his next words. “Good morning, Tori.”

She ignored the greeting and got right to it. “How am I supposed to let my girl here,” she said, nodding at Cara, “jet off to some planet we know nothing about? How do we know it’s safe?”

“Safe?” Aelyx repeated with a smirk. “Last year, your tri-county reported sixty-seven murders, one thousand cases of assault, and over two hundred rapes. There hasn’t been a vio­lent crime on L’eihr in ten generations, and you’re concerned about her safety there as opposed to here?”

“You’re joking, right?” Cara scanned his face for any hint of teasing but found none. “That’s impossible.”

“I assure you it’s not.” He raised one haughty brow.

“How’d you do it, then?” Tori circled one finger around her temple in the universal gesture for crazy. “Alien miiiiiind control?”

Aelyx parted his lips to reply but hesitated a moment as if deliberating how much to reveal. “Let’s just say it’s due to evolution and breeding.”

“Uhn-uh.” Cara shook her head. “Not buying it. Violence is part of human nature. You can’t just—”

“But you keep forgetting, Cah-ra.” Aelyx stopped, turn­ing to face her and narrowing his cold chrome eyes. “I’m not human.”

A prickling of goose bumps raised the hairs on her fore­arms and along the back of her neck. Aelyx began walking again as if nothing had happened.

“W-well,” she stammered, “I’ll see for myself.” And strangely enough, she wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t wait to see how his people lived—and whether he’d embellished their greatness.

“I’m not reassured.” Tori kicked aside a twig and openly glared at Aelyx. “You talk, but you don’t really say anything.”

“Tor-ri!” Cara chided.

“No, don’t Tor-ri me! Why won’t he answer the question?”

“I did. You simply didn’t like the response.” Aelyx started to say something more, but his head snapped up as if on high alert. Soon Cara understood why. A distant clamor filled the tranquil woods, growing louder as they approached the end of the trail.

Cara froze and stared blankly across the street at the Midtown High parking lot, where a swarm of demonstrators chanted and pumped their handmade signs into the air: Honk If You Support HALO! It was like watching an anthill under attack—bodies scurrying in every direction without any lead­ership. Random car horns blared as morning traffic crawled past, and two uniformed police officers shouted at the pro­testers while shaking their heads and pointing to the clogged street.

She turned to Aelyx, who maintained a calm expression but clutched his notebook in a white-knuckled kung-fu grip.

“Not a very warm welcome,” Tori said.

Cara drew Aelyx’s attention to the vacant lot adjacent to the school. “At least you’ve got groupies.”

A much smaller crowd of around fifty men and women held signs that read All Are Welcome! and We L’ove You, Brother! The supporters swayed from side to side and sang with wild flower-powered abandon, but HALO’s disorganized chants drowned them out.

“Come on, we’ll be late.” She reached out to pat Aelyx’s shoulder, but then pulled back. She kept forgetting he didn’t like to be touched. “Just ignore the freak show.”

Tori led the way, waving to the crowd like Miss America and taking their focus off Aelyx, if only for a few moments.

After a tight nod, Aelyx lifted his chin, and they walked briskly toward the school’s entrance. Cara kept her eyes for­ward, pulse racing and in total awe of Tori’s brass cojones. She heard a few isolated shouts from the protesters, mostly “Don’t trust him!” and “You’re a traitor, Sweeney!” When feedback from the police bullhorn pierced the air, she cupped her hands over her ears. It was still easy to hear the officer tell the crowd to disperse, that they couldn’t legally protest on school property.

When she made it into the building, she heaved a sigh, rolling her shoulders to release the tension. Tori promised to find them at lunch and then rushed off to her first class.

“You okay?” Cara whispered to Aelyx, standing on tiptoe to reach his ear.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” But his stiff posture and clenched jaw gave him away.

“It’s normal to feel a little shaken up, you know.”

“For your kind, perhaps.”

“Oh, gimme a break; you don’t have to pretend that noth—”

“Sacred Mother,” he said, skidding to a halt in the middle of the crowded hallway.

“What?” She followed his gaze to a group of girls squealing and bouncing toward them. She glanced back at Aelyx’s gaping mouth and laughed. It was about time something cracked his stoic veneer. “Aw, look. You have a fan club.”

Five freshmen danced around one another, hopping up and down as if their heels were made of springs. Each L’eihr wannabe, or L’annabe, as people called them, wore her poorly dyed brown hair in a low ponytail and dressed in a beige top over gray pants. Cara shook her head at their orange-streaked faces. Friends didn’t let friends abuse self-tanning spray.

The L’annabes giggled and pushed the group spokesperson forward. “What’s your name?”

“Aelyx.” He took a step back, and Cara pressed her lips together to stifle another laugh.

“Aaaaaa-licksssss,” the girl repeated above a chorus of screams. “Omigosh, a real L’eihr right here in Midtown, I can’t believe it, welcome to Earth, we think you’re so amaz­ing. Can you tell us about your planet, and space travel, and are there other aliens with special powers, and maybe you can hang out with us after school today at my house, and can you really read minds?”

He blinked a few times and shook his head. “No, I can’t read minds.”

As perversely entertaining as it was to watch him squirm, it was time to be a good little hostess and intervene.

“Stop.” Cara stepped in front of Aelyx, holding her palm toward the group. “Don’t get too close.”

The girls glanced at one another, stupefied.

“This is really important. Did you guys color your hair in the last three months?”

“Maybe,” the group’s leader conceded. “Why?”

“Oh, no!” Cara pushed Aelyx farther back and shielded him with her body. “Don’t you know the chemicals in hair dye are toxic to L’eihrs?”

“What? I never heard that.” The fan girl bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her forehead.

“Hmm, maybe it’s not common knowledge yet. They can handle most of our chemicals, but not dye. If you get too close, he’ll have some kind of freaky respiratory reaction.” She leaned forward, trying to look stern. “You don’t want to be responsible for killing our exchange student, do you?”

Shaking her head, the girl backed away and rejoined her friends. “Of course not. I’m so sorry!”

Thank God for gullible freshmen.

Aelyx glanced at her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes and then turned to the girls with a generous smile. “It’s all right. You didn’t mean any harm.”

The L’annabes nodded vigorously and said good-bye, giv­ing him a wide berth to navigate the hallway as Aelyx and Cara walked to class.

“Spanish military leader El Cid’s real name was . . .” Mr. Manuel’s voice trailed off into a question. “Anyone?”

Cara knew the answer, but she didn’t feel like participat­ing. Instead, she rested her chin in her palm and gazed out the window at the parking lot. The last remaining protest­ers had left hours ago, and things were calm. Well, calmer, anyway. Things inside were pretty dull, too. Apparently, Eric had changed his entire schedule to avoid her, which was both good and bad. While she didn’t have to look at his smug jerkface, that meant he couldn’t see how much she pretended not to care about his smug jerkface.

“Yes, Aelyx?”

The sound of his name brought her to attention.

“Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar,” Aelyx said. “He’s known as the national hero of Spain—a warlord, like so many of Earth’s idols.”

“Impressive.” Mr. Manuel crossed his arms. “You don’t even have a textbook yet.”

“I studied your history while I was still on L’eihr.” And with a smirk that had become his own personal signature, he added, “It didn’t take long.” He returned his attention to the copy of Advanced Binuclear Theories the science teacher had lent him. Maybe he should read How to Avoid Acting Like a Pretentious Ass instead.

“Why is it,” Mr. Manual began loudly, “that an alien knows more about your planet’s history than you do?” He pointed an accusing finger at the class and raised his voice. “The average grade on the last test was forty-six. Forty-six! Does anyone even care?” While he ranted, several students turned in their seats and narrowed their eyes at Aelyx. Some­one whispered, “Nice going, L’asswipe.”

When the bell rang, Cara decided to let the classroom clear out before heading to lunch. Why risk getting jumped if she didn’t have to? She nudged Aelyx’s desk, and he glanced up from his book.

“You’re not doing any favors for yourself,” she said. “You’ll never make any friends with those little digs.”

“Digs?”

“Oh, you didn’t study that before you left L’eihr?” she asked. “A dig’s an insult. You know, like announcing your gift is superior to Eric’s, or telling me my hips are huge, or saying it didn’t take long to study our planet’s pathetic history.”

“Well, in all honesty, it only took three—”

“Look. You’re some kind of genius. We get it. Whoop-de-do.” She twirled one finger in the air. “But honesty is overrated. We’ve got a long year ahead of us, and the whole student body will hate you if you don’t lay off.”

“That won’t happen. You’re forgetting”—he closed his book and pointed it at her—“that I have a fan club.”

“You made a joke!” Progress! “I’ll make a human out of you yet.”

“That’s an ugly threat, Cah-ra.”

“Very funny. The halls should be empty now. Let’s go eat.”

As Cara had feared, the garlicky reek of sloppy joes was the only thing greeting them inside the cafeteria. A slow hush permeated the room, spreading from person to person like a rolling fog of silence. Ignoring the freeze-out, she scanned the crowded space for Tori, who caught her eye and waved from an open table all the way in the back.

While crossing the lunchroom, Cara noticed a few eyes widen when Aelyx passed. Brandi Greene, the dance team captain and one of Cara’s ex-friends, spat orange Gatorade onto her tray and sat there staring with her mouth hanging open like a 7-Eleven. Cara laughed inwardly, but she’d had the same reaction the first time she’d met Aelyx. The boy was chocolate for the eyes. But for every dreamy sigh, there were ten openly hostile glares.

Pseudo tuberculosis broke out at Eric’s table of jocks as they passed. Cough, cough. “L’asshole!” Cough, cough. Cara kept her eyes trained forward and studied Eric from her periph­eral vision. He seemed too focused on his hatred of Aelyx to notice her. She knew that shouldn’t bother her, but it did. Why couldn’t he suffer, just a little bit?

One thing was clear: lines had been drawn. She’d run track, played soccer, debated with and tutored many of the people who now leered at her like she had an STD. Eric had been right. She’d just set the world record for Fastest Freefalling Social Status.

“Sorry about this,” Aelyx whispered from behind her, tickling the back of her neck with his warm breath.

“I should be the one apologizing.” She sat beside Tori, fac­ing the wall, while Aelyx took the seat across the table. “I bet your friends back home will treat me better than this.”

Aelyx’s shoulders slumped a couple inches while he took a sudden interest in the chipped tabletop. Maybe she’d been too hard on him back in the classroom.

“Yeah.” Tori shook her apple at him. “You made quite an impression. I took a lotta crap for you today.”

“Whatever,” Cara said. “You don’t take crap from any­one.” She pulled a Ziploc bag from her mini-cooler and handed it to Aelyx. “Here’s a slice of provolone and some of those wheat crackers you liked.”

Aelyx perked up. Poor thing, he had to be starving. “Thank you, Cah-ra.”

“And by the way,” Tori mumbled with one cheek stuffed full. “You’re sayin’ it wrong. It’s Care-ah.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Cara slid a bottle of unsweetened iced tea across the table. “I like the way you say my name.”

“Oh, barf.”

Just as Cara geared up to elbow Tori in the ribs, Brandi Greene slipped into the seat beside Aelyx. She tucked a blond curl behind her ear and rested one hand on his shoulder. She didn’t even notice when he flinched away. “You,” she said, “are literally the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Cara fanned a notebook to disperse the scent of cheap flo­ral perfume, a noxious odor she hadn’t endured since Brandi joined the dance team and nixed their friendship freshman year, upgrading to a new set of friends. “Well, that’s one way to introduce yourself.”

“Hmm?” Brandi asked, still gazing at Aelyx.

“Aelyx, this is Brandi, who, like the rest of Midtown High, lacks social skills.”

“Hey, I heard you and Eric are splitsville.” Brandi blinked her clumpy, tarantula-leg lashes, feigning innocence. “You don’t care if I ask him out, right?”

A ten-ton bomb filled with sulfuric acid exploded inside Cara’s stomach. Of course Brandi would want to move in on Eric—he’d become popular practically overnight after joining the lacrosse team, and the little social climber hadn’t made it to the top of the ladder yet.

Cara dug a fingernail into her palm and smiled sweetly. “Go for it. I’m sure he’s looking for an easy rebound.”

The insult slipped off Brandi’s shoulders like she was coated in social lube. “He’s got that worked out. The whole team’s taking Marcus to The Ho Depot for his birthday on Friday.”

Cara’s jaw slackened while her heart sank into her lap. The Ho Depot—a nickname for the skeevy strip joint that just went up outside city limits. Ever since word got out that the girls sold “services” in the back room, the place had become an XXX version of Chuck E. Cheese’s for barely legal birth­day boys.

A lump formed in Cara’s throat, and all the swallowing in the world wouldn’t push it down. Eric was tired of waiting for her to put out, so he was going to get it somewhere else. She shouldn’t care—it was none of her business anymore. So why did she want to vomit and cry at the same time?

Tori’s hand gripped hers beneath the table while Brandi turned back to Aelyx. “Everyone says you’re crazy smart. Are all the L’eihrs like you?”

Aelyx moved a few inches in the opposite direction and said, “We’ve been bred for advanced cognitive skills, among other things.”

“Bred? Literally? Like your babies are planned and stuff?”

“Not anymore, but pairings were carefully planned for the last ten thousand years.”

Brandi licked her top lip. “Are you all this hot?”

Instead of responding, Aelyx shoved four crackers into his mouth. It seemed like a good time to change the subject.

“Hey,” Cara said to Aelyx, “can you make it home by yourself later? I’ve got to go grocery shopping.”

He nodded, mouth still full.

Brandi clapped her hands together while bouncing in her seat. “I know where you live—I’ll walk him home!”

Aelyx shook his head and waved her off, which Brandi took as an enthusiastic yes!

“It’s no problem,” Brandi insisted, even as Aelyx held one palm forward.

“Better watch out,” Tori said. “No one’s gonna want his sloppy seconds.”

“For you, I’ll risk it.” Brandi gave Aelyx’s ponytail a play­ful tug. “See you later, gorgeous.”

Cara hid a smile, even as guilt tugged at her stomach. She probably shouldn’t abandon Aelyx, but he’d appreciate it later. She had something special planned that just might salvage this terrible day for both of them.

“They’re every bit as loathsome as I’d anticipated,” Aelyx whispered, unclasping his hair as Syrine’s miniature hologram nodded in agreement from atop his chest of drawers. “Com­pletely worthless as a species.” Especially the sex-obsessed female who’d followed him home after school. When she wasn’t fondling his chest, she’d badgered him with questions about L’eihr weaponry. As if he’d discuss such things with her. It had taken nearly an hour to make her leave.

“Praise the Sacred Mother I’m educated privately in the home.” Syrine’s host attended an all-male school, the only perceivable benefit of living with him. “I only socialize with the youth during—”

A metallic clatter from the other end of the house rang out.

“What was that?” Syrine asked.

“My human. I think she’s preparing a meal.” His vacant stomach rumbled in protest, no longer satisfied with nutri­tional supplements and the occasional cracker. He’d give anything for a bowlful of I’ina. But no matter what Cara was cooking, he knew he couldn’t eat it.

Cara. One thought of her brought an invisible weight crashing down upon his back. She didn’t know it, but she’d never see a penny of her scholarship. She’d never set foot on his planet and, worse yet, her peers would hold her account­able for his actions.

Suddenly, an earsplitting series of shrill beeps rang out from the circular white device affixed to his ceiling-—the smoke detector.

“We’ll talk later,” he mouthed before shutting down his com-sphere and stuffing it inside the top drawer. Pressing his palms over both ears, he ran through the hallway and toward the kitchen, where tentacles of foul-smelling smoke curled from the open doorway.

He darted inside and found Cara—her face streaked with sandy-colored muck—waving a broom to clear the hazy air.

“Are you all right?” he yelled over the alarm.

With a vigorous nod, she threw open the back door while he opened both windows to allow a cross breeze to ventilate the room. Eventually the air cleared, and sweet silence resumed.

The lingering stench burned his nostrils. “What happened?”

Cara pushed a greasy lock of hair away from her face and pointed to a plate of charred flatbread by the stove. “I made larun for you.”

Larun? At first he didn’t understand, but after scanning the countertop and identifying several varieties of grains and oils, it all made sense. Yesterday he’d said his favorite breakfast tasted like a cross between wheat toast and corn bread, and she must have tried replicating it for him. Great gods. She’d done all this for him—right after she’d lost her mate and half her peers.

She cleared her throat and glanced down at her pink-polished toes. “I know you’re hungry. I wanted you to have a taste of home.”

Something warm swelled inside his lungs until Aelyx feared he might take flight right there in the cluttered kitchen. If there was a name for this emotion, he didn’t know it, but he wished he could summon the feeling at will.

Nodding at the plate, he extended his palm for a sample.

“But it’s burned,” she objected, “and totally vile.”

“I’ll judge for myself.”

Hesitantly, she broke a piece in half and offered it to him.

She was right. Vile didn’t begin to describe what he’d just put into his mouth. The texture reminded him of chewing soil, gritty and thick, and his taste buds could discern nothing but carbon. When he bit down too hard, a sharp edge of grain sliced his gums and he winced, holding one hand against his cheek.

“Oh, Cara, it’s so . . . good.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Then you probably can’t stop at one.” She held out the plate. “Go on. Finish the rest.”

“No, that’s okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “I don’t want to be greedy.”

“I insist.”

“Really, I should save some for your parents.” It was get­ting harder to keep a straight face. “They’ll love it.”

“That’s true.” She tilted her head in mock contemplation. “I know! I’ll make a fresh batch every single day until you leave. Then I’ll bring the recipe to L’eihr ... so you can eat it forever!”

He couldn’t hold it in another second. Laughter erupted from his chest, so he had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from spraying the floor with the half-chewed bits he hadn’t managed to swallow. Cara joined in, tossing the plate into the sink before collapsing against the counter in a wild fit of giggles. She kept pointing at him and trying to speak but couldn’t manage to get out the words. After a dozen tries, she snorted and said, “I wish you could’ve seen your face when you put that bite in your mouth. It looked like you were chewing glass.”

“It felt that way, too,” he barely managed.

She threw an oven mitt at his head, which he dodged by ducking behind the kitchen island. He doubled over in another bout of uncontrollable laughter. Soon his muscles ached, and he pressed both hands over his abdomen to still the pain.

“Either you’ll starve,” she said, “or I’ll kill you with my cooking. Either way, you’re screwed.”

“Completely fashed,” he agreed.

“I can see the headline now,” Cara choked out. “Midwest girl slays exchange student with flatbread, ends alliance negotiations.”

“L’eihrs retaliate by forcing humans to eat Sweeney’s cre­ation,” he added, “ending all life on Earth.”

She burst into another fit of giggles at that before gasping, “What a terrible way to go.”

“The worst,” he agreed. But at least he’d be in good company.