American Girl On Saturn (22 page)

I manage to get inside, up the stairs, and almost to my bedroom door. I don’t make the journey alone, though. The one and only Benji Baccarini follows me. For this to be Emery’s birthday – aka the day she gets anything and everything she wants – I’m surprised she’s not behind us.

He falls back on my bed, stretches out, and makes himself too much at home. Even with as many times as Milo has stepped into my bedroom, it feels weird having Benji in here. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been on lockdown with him for two weeks. He’s still intangible to me. He’s still Benji Bikini. He’s been on Emery’s bedroom walls for over a year. Having him in my bedroom takes surreal to a whole new level.

“So, I think I know how I want the rocket,” Benji says, holding his arm out. “Third time’s a charm, eh?”

I’ve drawn and redrawn and redrawn his rocket ship – on his arm, on paper, on the inside cover of
his tattoo magazine. He maps out exactly what he wants along his forearm. I grab my bag of Sharpies and don’t even bother telling him I’ll do it later. I need a distraction, and Benji is as good as any other.

After ten minutes, Benji sighs loudly. I glance up from his arm and the rocket I’ve drawn too many times.

“Your friend really sucks,” he says. “Ms. Shelly showed Noah and me the pics this morning. What a bitch to do that to you.”

The rest of this town may not be on my side, but Benji Baccarini and Noah Winters are.

“It’ll work out,” I say. I don’t sound very convincing, though. “Aralie will blow up Facebook once lockdown is over and post every picture she has.”

“Dude! Hit me up on Twitter too,” he says. “I’ll retweet all the freaking time.”

Emery rushes into my bedroom. “And tweet about me!” she yells.

I keep a tight grip on my Sharpie as Emery bounces onto the end of the bed. She turns her back to us and fiddles with the magnets on my file cabinet. After they’ve been rearranged to her satisfaction, she looks back.

“I need you to come downstairs with me,” she says. “Both of you. It’s my birthday, and I want to play a game with everybody.”

I color in the rest of the rocket quickly, and then Emery leads us down to Dad’s game room, where the rest of Spaceships Around Saturn plus Aralie have gathered. Noah sits next to Milo, on the far side of the room. I sit with Benji, closest to the doorway.

Emery skips toward the center of the room and steps up on the coffee table.

“For my birthday, I want us to play house,” she says. “And Benji is going to marry me.”

Oh God. I cannot sit through playing house with Emery. This is just opening up a can of mutant worms from another planet, and her little now-six-year-old brain has no clue. You can’t marry people off when romances are happening behind closed doors.

“Aralie can marry Jules,” Emery says. “Because Mom says you guys fight like a married couple all the time.”

Aralie jumps up from the sectional, leaving her spot next to Tate.

“I’m not marrying Jules,” she says. “I can’t and I won’t. There’s no way.”

“Fine,” Emery says through clenched teeth. She sits on the table beneath her. “Just marry Tate then.”

Emery’s eyebrows pull together, and her eyes turn to small slits. Why is she so angry that Aralie won’t marry Jules? I get it, it’s Emery’s birthday and she gets her way, but who really cares if Aralie marries Jules in a game of house? She’s hooking up with Tate anyway. It’s only right that she “marries” him.

Aralie resumes her spot next to Tate, and Emery’s shoulders slump as she sighs.

“Chloe,” Emery says. Oh this is it. She’s about to reveal my fate. “You can marry Milo since he was naked in your bedroom.”

I never thought a day would come where I’d want to avoid Milo, but today is that day. I just can’t handle it yet. My mind is still wrecked from Paige. I haven’t had time to thoroughly cry or break things or rip up pictures of her.

“I don’t think so,” Noah says. “Milo wasn’t naked in Chloe’s room, and it’s not fair to force them on each other just because of a misunderstanding. Plus it just makes things awkward, so
I’ll
marry Chloe and give Milo a break.”

“Oh you will?” Milo asks.

The expression on his face kills me. It’s a look of confusion. Maybe hurt. Maybe betrayal?

Noah gives him a “you know better” look that I don’t think anyone else picks up on. He stares at Milo the way Benji and Jules stare at each other when they’re relaying cosmic messages.

“I was just trying to defend you,” Noah says. “You can have Chloe if you want her.”

“No,” Milo says. “I think you’re right. It’s just awkward. She’s all yours.”

Well, that hurts. There’s a sting in his voice. He’s mad. What does he want me to do? Announce over Emery’s birthday cake that we’ve been sneaking out together at midnight for two weeks? Ugh. I can’t even look at him. I stare at the fake rocket tattoo on Benji’s arm instead.

Emery stands up and walks around the room. She stops in front of Jules.

“Since Aralie won’t marry you, I guess you can be my dog,” she says.

Aralie’s laughter echoes throughout our entire house. I bring my legs up onto the sectional, pull my knees toward my chest, and bury my face so I can’t see anyone else. I don’t want to see Milo flip out on Emery when she tells him that he can be my and Noah’s pet.

Jules shouts that there’s no way in hell he’s being a dog. Aralie makes a snide remark that he can date Milo. Then Noah asks if gay marriage is even legal in our state.

I turn my head and look at Benji. He slouches next to me on the sectional, examining the rocket on his arm like he’s making changes again in his mind.

“I quit!” Jules yells. “I’m not playing this stupid game. I don’t care what day it is.”

“
Aww,” Aralie taunts. “You’re such a bad sport, Jules.”

“Then you be her damn dog, and I’ll kiss Tate,” he says.

I glance up just in time to see Jules fly past me. Benji runs after him while Aralie giggles and whispers something to Tate.

Emery stands up and stomps out of the room behind the
bromance of Jenji. So much for playing house. For once, I’m thankful Jules is an ass.

A few hours and one long nap later, I successfully close the lid on the shoebox of Paige photos. After lockdown, I’m finding a really awesome bonfire and adding Paige’s face to the flames. I slide the box under my bed when someone knocks on my door.

“Hey,” Noah says. “Can I come in?”

I tell him it’s open as I sit on the bed. He walks in with Emery’s extra-large birthday card in his hand. Milo is with him.

“You want to sign the card we made?” Noah asks, sitting down next to me.

I unfold the poster-sized card and read over the goofy birthday messages to Emery. I scribble something along the lines of hoping she has the best birthday ever, that I love her, and how I’m glad she gets to spend the big six with ‘Benji Bikini.’

“Awesome, thanks,” Noah says. He turns to Milo. “C’mon dude, let’s go find Aralie and get her to sign it.”

“Go on,” Milo says. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Noah lingers in the doorway with Emery’s card. He mouths ‘sorry’ to me before he disappears down the hallway. I hear a knock on Aralie’s door, and Noah’s voice fades out as he goes into her bedroom.

“Hey you,” Milo says, walking over to the bed. “What’s up?”

He sits next to me, and everything about him consumes me for the zillionth time this summer. That sexy boyish smell. His ever-so-caramelized eyes. The way he scrunches his mouth to one side when he’s thinking.

I decide to try the whole nonchalant, ‘nothing is happening’ vibe. I simply shrug my shoulders and shake my head. He doesn’t need to know what’s up.

“Chloe, you’re a terrible liar,” he says. “It’s been written all over your face all day. Talk to me. Something’s up. I can see it.”

Just tell him, Chloe. Be honest. Paige made out (and possibly more) with your ex-boyfriend, took pictures of it, uploaded them to Facebook, and tagged you in every last one. Just say it. She ruined your day, and she made you look like an idiot. It’s about Paige. All about Paige. Just tell him. He’ll understand. He’s logical and rational and understanding and amazing. Just say it.

“Everything’s fine, really,” I lie again. “I’m just tired.”

He watches me for a moment, probably trying to read my face and figure out why I’m lying to him. He knows I’m lying, but I can’t force myself to spit the truth out. It’ll come out all wrong, and then he’ll get the wrong idea, and I’ll lose him.

“What were you and Noah talking about earlier? Outside?” he asks, looking down at the blankets on my bed.

He tugs at a loose string on the top cover and avoids eye contact with me.

“Just about last night…and stuff.” I don’t even believe myself anymore.

Milo is right – I’m a terrible liar. I feel like I’m in an awful comic strip with a huge speech bubble in front of my mouth that just says, “Lie. Lie. Lie. Oh look, another lie.”

“Just stop,” he says. “Is this about me? Or us? You’ve been avoiding me all day, and don’t you dare say you haven’t because you know as well as I do that you’ve practically been running from me.”

He looks as confused and sad as Mom did when she lectured me about smoking cigarettes and how smoking wasn’t the answer to solving my problems. But Milo isn’t going to come to my rescue this time. Damn it. Why can’t I just be honest and spit out the words? You speak with words, Chloe. Words! Remember?

“So you are avoiding me,” he says in response to my silence. “That’s why Noah’s been holding me back all day. He’s the decoy, the distraction, right?”

He jumps up from my bed, like it’s suddenly poisonous and he can’t come into contact with it. He takes a few steps back. I’ve never seen him this mad.

“Let me guess,” he says. “Noah knows what’s going on, and he’s supposed to break it to me later. Let me down gently, right? You know, if you didn’t want to be with me, all you had to do was say it.”

Oh my God. No, no, no, no, no. This is not happening. This is all just a huge, massive, gigantic misunderstanding. This is a thousand times worse than mistaken nudity – and I thought
nothing
could be worse than mistaken nudity.

“No,” I finally say. Finally, words! “You’ve got this all wrong, Milo.”

“Oh really?” he shoots back. “From where I’m standing, it looks pretty clear. You know, this is why management doesn’t want us in relationships. Too much drama. Too much trouble. This was stupid. I don’t know why I thought I could actually make this work with you.”

He paces the rug, shaking his head, for a moment. And then he laughs.

“I’m so stupid,” he says. “I knew better than to ever let this happen. Don’t bother getting Noah to break up with me for you. I don’t need him to let me down easy. It’s okay. I can handle it. It’s over. We’re over. And I’m counting down the minutes until this lockdown is over so I can walk away from this for good.”

He slams my door behind him.

And I still have no words. No sounds.

Just a floodgate that bursts open and the river of tears behind it.

I check my face one last time in the mirror. The tears have subsided, but I don’t want any trace of them left on my face. I recoat my eyeliner before heading downstairs for Emery’s birthday dinner.

Benji sits at the end of the table with an empty seat next to him. I already know it’s reserved for Emery. Luckily, the seat directly across from him is empty. Noah sits next to the empty chair. I don’t look at anyone else as I make a beeline for the end of the table.

“Hey eldest one,” Dad says as I rush past him. “You feeling old now that Emery is six?”

“Are you feeling old now that I’ve graduated high school?” I ask in return.

Dad laughs. “Nice comeback,” he says. “You’re finally learning.”

“Benji taught me,” I say as I readjust my chair so I can’t see Milo on the other side of Noah.

Mom calls for Emery, who wanted to make a grand entrance. As usual, I held her up being late for her dinner. Everyone watches the archway for her to enter, but Noah looks over at me.

He mouths the words ‘what happened?’ and motions his head toward Milo as nonchalantly as he can. He sort of looks like he’s having a spasm.

I don’t have a chance to even semi-answer.

“Good news, everyone,” Dad interrupts. “We have a suspect in custody in regards to the shooting, and we believe he worked alone. We’re still in the interrogation process, but if all goes as planned, you guys should be able to get back on tour in a few days.”

Why is it that everyone seems to think that official government matters are clearly more important than the destruction of “Chloe and Milo” as we were?

Now we’re separate. Just Chloe. Just Milo. An Earth girl. A Saturn boy. Unaligned.

In between the “hell yeah!” shouts and high fives, I completely drown in the realization that lockdown is about to end. The guys will leave, Noah won’t be my new BFF, Milo will never speak to me again, and Benji might say ‘hi’ on Twitter every few months. I’ll go on to college and return to a mundane existence, always wondering what could’ve been.

Emery emerges and silences everyone upon her entrance. She wears Benji’s SLUT T-shirt, which hangs to her shins. She holds a mask up to her face. It’s a mask of…Benji. Except she’s cut his eyes and mouth out of the magazine pin-up. And she’s glued his face to a giant popsicle stick. I’ve never seen Benji Baccarini look so utterly creepy. I can’t even laugh.

“It’s my birthday,” Emery says in a deep voice.

“Emery, what are you doing?” Mom asks. “Get that off of your face.”

“My name isn’t Emery,” she says. “I’m Benji Baccarini.”

Her typical fit of giggles explodes from her mouth and through the cut-out mouthpiece of her Benji mask. Her laughter bounces off the walls in the dining room.

She skips over to the empty chair next to the real Benji and climbs atop. She looks around at us and smiles the brightest of all smiles. Her teeth glisten through the hole in Benji’s face. This would be hilarious if it was two months ago.

Instead, it’s cringe-worthy because we’re on lockdown with Spaceships Around Saturn, and Benji is sitting directly across from me. And really, Benji is the last thing on my mind. I’d gladly replace the mental image of Milo with Benji if my brain and heart would let me.

Emery clears her throat while Mom grabs pizza boxes from the kitchen. Obviously Emery doesn’t go very high-class for her birthday dinner. Then again, I shouldn’t expect much from the kid who is wearing Benji’s SLUT shirt.

“This is the best birthday ever,” Emery announces. “I’m so happy that you guys got to be here with me. Lockdown has been the best time of my life. Except for when Milo was naked in Chloe’s room.”

Dad’s eyes bulge. “What is she talking about?” he demands to know.

“Oh God,” Aralie says. “Dad, it was a huuuuuuge misunderstanding. Milo had clothes on, and Emery was being a freak.”

Dad ignores Aralie and turns to Mom.

“She’s right, Scott,” Mom agrees. “Emery just misunderstood something and really blew it out of proportion. It was absolutely nothing.”

Dear creatures of Saturn,
Hey, remember me? Chloe from planet Earth? Um, I’m still waiting on you guys to inject me with the infection that destroyed Jules’s face. I sort of need it right now. I can’t wait any longer. Sincerely, Chloe Branson

Dad doesn’t buy Mom’s casual attitude toward the mistaken nudity.

“How can…” Dad stops and shakes his head. “How do you mistake someone being naked in our daughter’s bedroom? How could Emery possibly misunderstand that?”

“Are you kidding me?” Aralie shouts. “Dad, really, this is Chloe you’re talking about. She’s the perfect daughter, remember? And Milo’s harmless. He’s the least likely of all of them to end up naked in anyone’s bedroom!”

“Aralie, I just asked–” Dad says.

But she cuts him off.

“Seriously, Dad,” Aralie says, pushing her chair back. “How can you even begin to think Emery knows what she’s talking about? Look at her!”

She slings her arm out, knocking Tate in the chest, and points at Emery.

Emery’s angry, squinted eyes pierce through the holes of her Benji mask. Her lips pucker up like she’s being forced to kiss the ugliest boy in the first grade and she’s pissed about it.

“Well,” Jules speaks up. “As interesting and dramatic as our time here has been, I can definitely say that I’m glad lockdown is nearly over. I’m ready to get back on the road, back on stage…”

“And back on Twitter,” Benji says, finishing Jules’s sentence.

Jules laughs. “Yeah, back to a life where people do my laundry for me.”

From now on, I think “laundry” should be the L-word. Forget about ‘love.’ Laundry should be a taboo topic or a curse word. It should be something that when talked about, everyone gasps and can’t believe someone would dare mention it.

“Okay, I can’t do this,” Aralie says, standing up. “I’m so sick of you doing this to me. It’s not funny, and you’re not cute, and all it does is piss me off.”

“Hey, you know I was just kid–” Jules only gets half of the word out of his mouth.

“No!” Aralie yells back. “You weren’t kidding! You love to throw it in my face that 6.9 million girls want you and that I should be so damn grateful that you give me the time of day. But you know what?”

“Don’t,” Jules says, sliding his chair back. “You said we’d wait to do this.”

Aralie slams her chair back into its place under the table.

“We would’ve waited if you hadn’t mentioned your godforsaken laundry again!” she screams. “You’re the one who comes begging me to watch movies with you all hours of the night. Or what about ‘Babe, just one more sunrise, please?’ Do you know how much sleep I’ve given up to spend time with you?”

Oh. My. God. Aralie and Jules?!

“Hey,” Tate says, reaching out and grabbing Aralie’s arm. “It’s okay. Just calm down.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t just go there,” she says. “You – you, Tate freaking Kingsley – were supposed to be on my side. I should’ve known as soon as this came out, you’d run to defend Jules. You’re such a coward, and if I find your head on my door one more time, I will end you!”

Holy Saturn, I am dying here. I can’t even get my brain around this. Have I seriously been that wrapped up in Milo Grayson that I missed out on everything? Milo was right – it was Jules the entire freaking time. So Tate was a decoy? Oh God. Tate is her Noah. He was in the loop. He probably played it up and acted all friendly with her so no one would suspect that she was really sneaking around with the bad boy who smells like crushed ladybugs. Jules isn’t a third wheel – Tate is.

Benji leans his chair back and opens his mouth, but Aralie is a line of nuclear bombs, exploding one by one.

“Don’t speak,” she demands. “You’ve bitched and moaned enough for everyone during lockdown, and you’ve covered the fridge with your pointless ramblings.”

“You gave me the note cards,” Benji shoots back.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “To shut you up. And it didn’t work.”

Noah cracks up beside me, and Aralie turns her attention to him.

“Oh God, “ she groans. “Jules may be a jerkoff, Tate may be a traitor, and Benji may be a diva, but
you
are the most annoying person I’ve ever met, and that says a lot with Chloe’s bitchy backstabbing friends.”

“What did I ever do to you?” Noah asks.

He tries to do that whole offended and hurt bit, but he looks just like he did the day that I pushed him into the pool. His dimples show through, and it’s just enough to piss you off even more when you’re already ill with him.

“What don’t you do?” Aralie asks. “You’re a drama queen over your stupid milk, and you think you’re hilarious with all your sarcastic comments and inside jokes with Chloe.”

Then she points at Milo.

“And I don’t know what you’ve done, but I’m sure you’ve done something!” she shouts at him.

Ohhhh yes, he’s done something. He’s completely shattered my heart. Get him, Aralie.

Noah sighs. “Don’t trip on Milo,” he says. “He doesn’t even talk to you.”

“Shut up!” Aralie shouts. “I don’t give a damn if you’re hooking up with my sister. I don’t like you, and you’re annoying, and hopefully she’ll see it too so she can dump your ass.”

She runs toward the kitchen, jerks the patio door back, and takes off in a dash outside. She disappears behind the privacy fence that surrounds the pool.

“Ms. Shelly, Mr. Scott,” Noah says next to me. “I’m not hooking up with Chloe. She’s great and all, and we’re friends, but that’s it.”

“Yeah,” Emery agrees
through her Benji mask. “Noah doesn’t sneak out with her at night. Milo does.”

I’m certain my heart just ruptured into little pieces of broken planets and dying stars. Why haven’t those stupid Saturn creatures put me out of my misery yet?! They clearly aren’t going to come through for me any time soon.

So I do the only thing I can.

I jump up, run through the kitchen, slam the patio door, and chase after Aralie.