Page 2 of Aliens Love Curves

Mom's gaze is steely. "You have two choices. Either you start your enforcer training immediately, or..."

"Or what?" I whisper, though I already know the answer.

"Or you'll be deported back to Earth," Dad finishes, his voice heavy with regret.

The world spins around me. "What? No! You can't be serious!"

"We're dead serious, Casey," Mom snaps. "This isn't a game. You've been putting this off for too long. It's time to grow up and accept your responsibilities."

I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "But I don't want to be an enforcer! I want to race, to fly freely! Why can't you understand that?"

Dad places a hand on my shoulder. "We do understand, sweetheart. But being an enforcer doesn't mean giving up flying. You'll have your own glider, your own—"

I shrug off his hand. "It's not the same! I don't want to chase criminals or enforce laws. I want tolive... I-I want to compete—to race for a living."

Mom's expression softens slightly. "And you think you'd belivingif we sent you back to Earth? To Aunt Enid?"

The thought of my strict aunt and her regimented lifestyle sends a shudder through me. The overcrowded streets of Earth—skyscrapers everywhere—the lack of open skies... it would be a prison compared to Ova.

I slump in defeat. "When... when do I have to start?"

"Tomorrow morning," Dad says quietly. "0800 hours at the Academy."

I nod numbly, unable to speak. As my parents motion to my glider and then to their enforcer glider, expecting me to follow them for the ride home, I take one last look at the beautiful Ovan sky. My dreams of freedom seem to fade with the setting sun.

THE NEXT MORNING COMEStoo soon. I stand outside the imposing Enforcer Academy, its sleek, curved architecture a stark contrast to the natural beauty of Ova. My new cadet uniform feels stiff and confining, nothing like the comfortable flight suit I'm used to.

Taking a deep breath, I push through the doors into the main atrium. It's bustling with activity – cadets of all species hurrying to and fro, the click of boots on polished floors, the low hum of conversation.

I make my way to the registration desk, where a bored-looking Equanox woman eyes me with disinterest. "Name?"

"Casey Onyx Peace," I reply, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.

She taps at her holoscreen. "Ah yes, the late enrollee. You're in Group C. Training Room 12, down the hall to your left. Don't be late."

I mumble a thank you and follow her directions. As I approach Training Room 12, I hear a deep, authoritative voice from inside. My hand hesitates on the door handle. This is it. Once I step through, there's no going back.

Squaring my shoulders, which forces my large breasts to stick out even further, I push open the door.

The room falls silent as I enter and a dozen pairs of eyes turn to stare at me – mostly Equanox, with a few other alien species mixed in. But my attention is immediately drawn to the figure at the front of the room.

He's Equanox, but unlike any I've seen before. Tall and powerfully built, with muscles that strain against his trainer's uniform. His skin is a deep shimmering shiny cerise pink colour which has such depth compared to the younger Equanox males sitting at desks before him, that it seems to glow under the lights. But it's his eyes that capture me – a startling silver that seems to pierce right through me.

For a moment, our gazes lock, and I feel a jolt of... something. Attraction? Intimidation? Both emotions?

Then his expression hardens, and he barks out, "You're late, cadet. Name?"

I snap to attention, my cheeks burning, turning the exact same colour as his. "Casey Onyx Peace, sir."

A flicker of something—maybe recognition, passes over his face, but it's gone in an instant. "Well, Cadet Peace, since you seem to think your time is more valuable than ours, you can stay after class to clean the training equipment."

Anger flares in my chest. "But I—"

"That's 'But I,sir,'" he cuts me off. "And unless you want to add a lap around the Academy to your punishment, I suggest you take your seat. Now."

Fuming, I slide into the nearest empty chair. As I do, I hear him mutter under his breath, "Cop."

I look up sharply. "Excuse me?"

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