A clatter from outside startled her, jerking her fingers away from the keys and drawing her attention to the back wall. This sound was different from the customary raccoon assault on their garbage cans—muffled and farther away.
She turned off her bedroom light and tiptoed to the window, where she pushed aside the curtain and peered into the darkness.
The moon’s dim glow illuminated the backyard, but nothing seemed out of place. She swept her gaze across the shorn grass; past the old, rusted swing set; and into the trees, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Just as she was turning away, something moved in her periphery, and she spun back into place in time to see the shed door swing open.
Cara’s heart pounded. Someone was in the shed . . . where Dad kept the chain saw and a variety of other mass-murderous tools. Her overactive imagination conjured pictures of a hockey-masked lunatic kicking in the back door, armed with a cushion-gripped awl. Pressing her nose to the glass, she squinted at the intruder’s long ponytail and his broad shoulders as he closed the door and refastened the latch. She released a loud sigh of relief, fogging the windowpane in the process. It was only Aelyx.
But relief soon mingled with concern. Why was he in the shed, all alone at midnight? If Cara focused hard, she could barely make out the shape of a small box in his left hand. He glanced over both shoulders, as if he sensed her watching, but before she could drop the curtain, he jogged toward the woods and disappeared into the blackness.
What the hell? Cara stood frozen, her head tipped in confusion. So if Aelyx wasn’t meeting a girl for frisky-time in the woods, what was he doing out there? She ran down a mental list of what could be inside the box he’d taken from the shed. Birdseed, insecticide, nails, grass seed, fertilizer, screws. What would he want with any of that?
Was Tori right? Could Aelyx have an ulterior motive on Earth? Cara felt silly even considering the possibility, but that didn’t stop her from chewing on her thumbnail and staring out the window for the next hour, where she fell asleep waiting for him to return.
Chapter Eight
“Hey, Dad,” Cara called into the kitchen before peeking inside. If her parents were getting jiggy against the fridge, she wanted to give them time to unlock their lips before she walked in on something that couldn’t be unseen. “You in there?”
“Yup.” He was all alone, leaning against the counter and elbow-deep in a bag of Doritos.
“Where’s Mom?”
He muttered around a mouthful of chips, “The grocery.”
A man of few words, her dad. But those were the words she’d wanted to hear. Cara whipped out her cell phone and sent Mom a text. Can u make roast tonite?
Seconds later, Mom replied, U hate roast, which was absolutely true.
For A, Cara clarified, not me. She still hadn’t found a meal Aelyx liked, but she was getting closer with each attempt. The key was flavor—his taste buds couldn’t tolerate as much as hers. Unsalted crackers, air-popped popcorn, dry toast: these were the foods he tolerated best, so she needed to think bland. And when it came to bland, not even Introductory Statistics could compete with Mom’s roast.
Will do.
Cara sent a quick Thanks! and pocketed her phone. She noticed Dad’s work duffel discarded by the back door. “Is your medic stuff in there?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Can I borrow your stethoscope?”
Another nod.
“We’re studying auscultation in health class,” she lied.
He swept a hand toward his duffel and quirked a go ahead brow.
“I just want to listen to my valves.”
He scrutinized her above the Doritos bag. “Really.”
Before he had a chance to change his mind, she rifled through his supplies and grabbed the scope.
“I’ll bring it back in a few minutes,” she called over one shoulder as she retreated to her bedroom.
Once there, she locked the door and knelt at the wall that separated her from Aelyx. Then she tucked the stethoscope tips inside her ears, pressed the chest piece to the wall, and shamelessly tried to eavesdrop on the speakerphone conversation taking place in the next room.
She heard three muffled voices—Aelyx’s, another male, one female—and in keeping with her rotten luck, they were all speaking L’eihr. Or at least she thought so. The stethoscope didn’t amplify as much sound as she’d hoped. The voices sounded young, though, and they spoke with more inflection than the droning ambassador from the gala. So she assumed these were the other exchange students, the short, friendly-looking guy they sent to China and the girl who ended up in France. After a couple minutes, Cara still had no clue what they were saying, but their tone didn’t sound secretive. The girl was obviously bitching about something, and the boys seemed oblivious as they laughed and carried on their own side discussion. In other words, they were normal teenagers.
Cara didn’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.
She’d spent every minute of the last several days watching Aelyx for strange behavior. Well, stranger behavior. But nothing had changed. He still rearranged the plates in the dishwasher so they lined up in meticulous order, and he still turned up his nose at doughnuts and Froot Loops. If anything, his attitude had improved. She’d suggested that he observe other teens for social cues, and he’d done the job in spades. Yesterday after spending the afternoon with the track team, Aelyx had smacked her on the back and yelled, “Good hustle!” after she’d jogged up the front porch steps.
What he hadn’t done was sneak out to the woods again, which made her wonder if she’d overreacted. For all she knew, he could’ve been rummaging in the shed for the same reason she snooped through medicine cabinets when she used other people’s bathrooms—pure curiosity. Maybe his trips into the woods really were innocent strolls. Or maybe he’s gathering information out there, her inner nutcase whispered, to identify human weaknesses.
No, it didn’t make sense. Humans had plenty of weaknesses; that was no secret. Following all those political blogs had made her paranoid. And a jerk. While Aelyx was in there making time for his friends, she was huddled on the floor taking the plaster’s heartbeat. She should be with Tori, who’d just lost her spot on the soccer team. Enough of this douchebaggery.
Cara tossed the stethoscope onto her bed and dialed Tori’s cell. When it went to voice mail, she tried her landline and got the same result. Weird. Maybe the team had reconsidered. Cara was about to send a text when the garage door sounded from the other end of the house, and she headed to the kitchen to help bring in the groceries. If she couldn’t reach Tori, at least she could lend a hand in fixing supper for her only other friend in the world.
A couple hours later, when the kitchen was thick with the scents of potatoes and carrots, Cara dished up a plate and made her way to Aelyx’s bedroom in hopes of enticing him to the dinner table. Since he couldn’t stand the smell of their food any more than the taste, he hadn’t joined them for many meals.
With mad waitressing skills, she balanced the plate in the crook of one arm while knocking on his door. After he shouted, “Come in,” she peeked inside and found him stretched out on the bed reading Thermal Physics. He’d unclasped his long brown hair so it spilled around his face like a satiny veil. Truth be told, he looked hotter than the stoneware burning through the arm of her sweater.