Page 14 of I Think I’m in Love with an Alien

“Give me the address?”

He recites it from memory and I input it into my phone. Two miles away. Does that mean he walked all the way there, just to sip water and sit with us for half an hour?

“I hope it’s not out of your way?”

“Not at all,” I lie. In fact, I’m a mile and a half in the other direction, but I have a car, so it doesn’t matter. “Did you hike into town from there?”

I have to know.

“No, I came from the bus station. It wasn’t far.”

Oh. That means he didn’t even stop off at his rental. I tell myself it’s not because he was so eager to see me, only that he wanted to meet people before crashing for the night. I slide a glance at his profile as I start the car. Everything he packed for the week is in that single duffel bag? He’s not a cosplayer; that much is certain. I envy his ability to travel light.

Rellows is gearing up for the huge week-long party. There are banners everywhere, signs advertising special sales. They don’t have a venue large enough to house the behemoth Space Con has become, so it’s held at the county fairgrounds with overflow events in various spaces around town. They’re talking about building a community center that would have conference rooms and an event hall, but I doubt it would be big enough either. The town can’t support a hotel of a suitable size the rest of the year.

“Did you travel a long way?” I ask, breaking the silence as I drive.

“It seemed so.”

An odd response, I think. Not a yes or a no. I’ve only traveled via Greyhound once, and it was the longest six hours of my life. He must’ve really wanted to meet us to put himself through that. The realization colors my words, and I can’t help but feel flattered, even if he came to see all of us, not me personally.

“You can rest up tonight before our adventures begin tomorrow,” I say cheerfully.

“Is that a promise?”

Ugh, I’m so bad at this. That sounds flirtatious, maybe even suggestive. But I got my hopes up earlier and it turned out to be nothing. He doesn’t have a crush on you, I tell myself. It’s not mutual. Unrequited feelings are what you do.

I finally figure out what to say, the perfect note of lightness. “To have adventures? Absolutely. We can sample all the delights Space Con has to offer.”

“As long as I’m guaranteed more time in your company,” Seeker says seriously.

My silly heart flutters. Again.

6

Seeker

“Do you want to make plans to meet up tomorrow?” Jen asks.

“Let’s do that.”

In the enclosed space of her personal vehicle, Jen smells good. Her scent feels…bright, sparking on my senses like a sunrise. I caught hints of it in the restaurant, but it was loud and overwhelming in there, with so much sensory information that I couldn’t focus on her. Now that I can, I experience a frisson of pleasure.

That is probably not an appropriate observation, however. When I have logged another human saying that someone smells appealing, they were usually engaged in intimate behavior. In visual entertainment, it’s usually a prelude to exploratory mouth-to-mouth contact. Kissing. My people have nothing similar, but it seems just as intimate as exchanging genetic material. I don’t entirely understand the purpose, but perhaps it’s to ensure that the prospective partner’s alkaline balance is palatable? I remain uncertain why humans would need to taste one another to determine if they’re suitable together.

“Do you have a ride to the fairgrounds?”

“I intended to walk,” I tell her.

She checks something on her personal communication device. Her phone, I remind myself. Then she turns to me while shaking her head. “Okay, that’s way too far. It’s four miles! And you’ll pay a fortune in Ubers. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

“What time?”

“Is nine okay?”

I incline my head. “I’ll see you then. Thank you for offering to provide transportation. And…” I shouldn’t say this. But I do anyway. “I’m so glad to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She’s smiling, her chin slightly lowered.