Page 16 of Her Alien Neighbor

“Very cute indeed,” he says as I hand it back to him. “Your aunt never spoke much about Willa.”

I nod. “I think it’s because Willa was the model child, always polite, well-behaved, and bubbly. Then she grew into the perfect teenager who got good grades and never did anything wrong. The girl all the boys chased.”

I sigh, thinking about how many times my mom said, “Why can’t you be more like Willa?”

“Then Willa got married and had kids and followed the exact path my mom wanted her to. Willa likes her life, so it’s a path she willingly chose. But I think Aunt Franny could tell I was different. Not in a bad way. I wasn’t some rebellious little brat,” I quickly add, “but more reserved. I kept to myself for the most part until I got to high school.”

“And then?” Axil prods.

“And then things got better when I joined the Drama Club. Everything just felt easier to navigate,” my eyes go unfocused as the memories hit, “until it all fell apart.”

Axil’s gaze is intense. His eyes swirl with a mix of anger and pity, but pity is the dominant emotion.

Eager to forget that look, I put my almost empty cup beside me on the floor and lean up onto my knees. It’s then I spot a smaller unopened box in the corner directly behind Axil. “Ooh,” I say excitedly as I rush to get to my feet, but sitting on the hard floor for such a long time has sent my feet into a restful slumber, and I stumble the moment I take a step. Suddenly, I’m hurtling toward Axil’s crotch, and I’m terrified I’m going to headbutt his junk. But his strong arms come around me, and the next thing I know, he lands on the cement floor with me draped across his lap.

I feel his warm breath fan my cheek before I realize how little distance is between us. When I turn, he’s smiling a lopsided, shy grin that catches me off guard. It’s hard to imagine him shy and humble in any situation, but the way he’s looking at me right now, as if he’s honored just to have me in his arms…it sends goose bumps over my skin.

I could get up. Ishouldget up. Axil is certainly not my favorite person. I can’t stand him, in fact. But his lips areright there, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s comforting, and I want more of his comfort.

“I have decided what I want, Vanessa.”

My gaze drops to his lips. He notices, and leans in, just an inch, maybe not even that. The tip of his nose brushes against mine, and my stomach does a nervous little flip. I expect him to close the distance between us, but he stays where he is as if daring me to do it. Closing my eyes, my lips part as my head dips forward.

But then, there’s nothing. Just air.

My eyes fly open, and I find him jerking back, frantically rubbing his eyes. “Are you okay?” I ask.

His eyes are watery when he stops rubbing them. He looks at me strangely.

“Yeah, just uh,” he stammers, “something in my eye.” He quickly lifts me as if I weigh no more than a piece of paper and plops me down on a wide box filled with photo albums we’ve already looked through. Then Axil gets to his feet and runs a rough hand through his hair. His shoulders are tight, and his fingers are clenched into fists at his sides.

Something else is going on here.

He leans on the banister at the bottom of the stairs and hangs his head. “I should go,” he says in a guttural rasp, sounding nothing like himself, and more like a demon with a sore throat.

“Um, okay. Sure,” I say, not knowing how to respond to his obvious discomfort. I don’t understand what just happened. Is he freaking out because we almost kissed? It seemed like he wanted to. He even said he knew what he wanted, and I was certain he was ready to cash in his favor for a kiss. Most likely, one or both of us would’ve regretted it later. We don’t exactly get along. But it’s just a kiss. A kiss that didn’t even happen.

How much can an almost-kiss even mean? With the way Axil aggressively shakes his head to himself and then storms up the stairs, I guess, a lot.

Is it me?

I breathe into my hand, checking my breath. It’s not the best, given how many screwdrivers I’ve had to drink, but it’s also not terrible. That can’t be it.

A quiet voice in my head, an insidious foe I was certain I’d vanquished years ago, pipes in,It’s because you’re fat.

No,I reply forcefully in my head. I refuse to go down this path again. It’s a path filled with quicksand and rattlesnakes, and no one gets to the other side unscathed. It has taken decades of therapy to silence that voice, which sounds like me, but is really the voice of society telling me to work out more and eat less, or actually, don’t eat at all because starvation and suffering will lead to happiness, and maybe work out one more time today because summer is coming, and you’ll get the life you’ve always dreamed of if you’re thinner.

No. It’s a lie. I will not listen to it.

I’m finally able to look at my naked body in the mirror without recoiling in horror. I even like my rolls, dimples, and spider veins as they are. My rolls are cute. My cellulite adds texture and character to my body. And the spider veins, well, I haven’t found a way to embrace them quite yet, but I no longer Google “spider vein removal” every week, so that feels like progress.

Sure, Axil has the kind of beauty that feels reserved for A-list actors, but I’ve dated hot actors in the past. My body is not the problem here.

Or…maybe it is, but if that’s the case, Axil can go lick rust. I don’t even like him anyway. It’s not as if I’m in the market for a boyfriend, and certainly not one who lives in Sudbury.

Pulling the small box toward me that I was trying to reach before we almost kissed and Axil’s panties got all twisted, I start flipping through the loose photos. When I break the stack in two, a folded envelope slips out and lands on my foot.

Tossing the photos back in the box, I rip open the letter, my breath lodged in my throat. My eyes immediately go to the top of the page, looking for the type of clue, then the bottom, for the riddle. But neither are here, despite the letter being addressed to me.

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