Page 53 of I Think I’m in Love with an Alien

I sneak another peek at Seeker. His upper body is nearly brushing mine since these seats are quite close together. If I shifted, I could touch him. But I don’t. I just savor the feeling of wanting to, a soft anticipation tightening my stomach. There’s real delight in the tentative start of something, wondering if they’ll hold your hand or smile at your joke.

When the panel ends, the moderator comes back out. “There will be an autograph session at the pavilion tent in Section 7-A. Candid pictures aren’t allowed, but you’ll be able to purchase signed glossy photos on-site.”

“So glad we didn’t miss this,” Tad says.

I agree. “Took the bad taste of McFarland right out of my mouth.”

We stretch our legs and wander back to the maze of tables and stalls, each more alluring than the last. I catch snatches of geeky conversation and notice the sound of rolling dice punctuated by occasional blaster effects.

Seeker pauses by a table with an array of alien artifacts. Well, replicas from various shows, that is.

“Do these devices function?” he asks.

The vendor seems confused, and I step forward to smooth things over. “Do they turn on, light up, make sounds?”

“Oh. Yeah! Of course. This is a genuine crystal orb,” he promises. I lean closer to inspect the mesmerizing swirls of light within the glassy sphere. “Crafted with such precision, even a Vortoxian wouldn’t spot the difference.”

“Remarkable,” Seeker murmurs, examining the orb with delicate curiosity. “The artisans of Earth have a mastery of detail that rivals that of the finest crafters in the Cygnus Cluster.”

“What?” The vendor doesn’t realize that Seeker is messing with him.

Or at least, I think he is. Maybe it’s a sincere compliment.

“He’s refusing to break the fourth wall,” I say swiftly.

“Oh, right. Committed to the cosplay, I got ya. Did you want to buy that?”

“We can’t,” Tad says, coming up behind me. “You don’t take intergalactic credits.”

“So fucking funny.” The vendor moves off, muttering about weirdos ruining his business.

He wouldn’t have a shop without us, though.

“Maybe next year, they’ll consider it,” Poppy jokes. “Especially if Space Con becomes an actual space destination!”

I choke a little on my own saliva. Don’t panic. She’s kidding.

“Can you imagine?” Tad laughs, picking up a meticulously detailed model spaceship at the next table. “Real aliens? That would be something to phone home about.”

I notice Jaz pause and she seems to share a look with Seeker. She hasn’t commented on his super-realistic costume, either, unlike Tad and Poppy. Wait, does she know too? Did she know first? Why that bothers me, I’m not even sure. But my chest feels tight.

“You show the world too much,” Ravik says softly.

They certainly can move quietly.

I blink. “What?”

“There is no value in inventing reasons for sorrow,” they add.

And then they move off through the crowd, leaving me with the sense that they know something I don’t. Maybe a lot of somethings.

“No way, an Astro Cruiser!” Tad’s voice pierces through the din of chattering fans and electronic beeps from nearby gaming booths.

It’s like we’re all kids again. Poppy is the first to move, and then I follow Jaz to Tad’s side, where he’s gazing fervently at a life-size replica of the famed spacecraft from Astro Adventures. It’s especially impressive that they built this out of Lego when the ship came from a cartoon of all things.

“By the moons of Jupiter,” Poppy intones. “We must investigate!”

Tad chuckles, adjusting imaginary spectacles in true Professor Nexus fashion. “‘We shall discern the secrets of the cosmos’—or at least snag some cool merch.”