Page 71 of I Think I’m in Love with an Alien

I wonder if her people dream. But I’m not supposed to know that she’s an alien. Ravik either. So I’ll do my best not to react with undue curiosity to everything she says.

“Oh, man,” Tad says. “I got chased by a giant buzzer that wanted to step on me.”

Poppy laughs. “Clearly a result of the trivia contest.”

“The idea of dreams is fascinating,” Ravik says.

Before any of us can reply, the harried waitress brings a plate of French toast to Poppy. “Sorry about the delay. What can I get you folks?”

I set down my menu with a smile that probably doesn’t sweeten the overwork from the town population doubling for a week. “I’ll have the garden omelet and sourdough toast.”

“Water for me,” Seeker says.

Once the server hurries off to her next table, Poppy asks, “You mean, like hidden meanings or something like that?”

Ravik shakes their head. “More the idea that random hallucinations can refresh one’s mind. I find it curious.”

Seeker is nodding and I press my leg against his, hoping he’ll realize this is quite an inhuman observation. We don’t really reflect on how odd it is that sleep and dreams can recharge our brains because that’s how our bodies function. It’s like using a microwave to heat up some pizza; I don’t spend time pondering how it works.

Tad joins the conversation. “Once I dreamed about being lost in a corn maze after watching a horror movie. The implications are interesting.”

Okay, maybe humans and aliens have more in common than I realized. But I figure a subject change is in order before Poppy and Tad realize that three of us are not like the rest. I spot the waitress heading our way.

“Food’s here!”

The omelet is amazing with lots of fresh veggies and gooey melted cheese. Poppy is digging into her French toast eagerly, not seeming to pay much attention to the rest of us as her eyes drift half-closed.

“Mmm. Real maple syrup,” she practically moans.

“Is there fake maple syrup?” Seeker asks.

Which is a reasonable question, but most humans would know, I think, that there are imitations. Poppy gives him a look, raising one brow. “Are you being clever?” she demands.

“That depends,” Seeker says.

But he doesn’t get the chance to elaborate because Ravik stuns everyone by saying, “You’re a very…sensual eater.”

“Thank you,” Poppy says.

They pause. “It wasn’t necessarily a compliment.”

Poppy sets down her fork with a frown. “Oi! Why are you picking on me? Are you implying that I’m trying to be sexy and failing?”

“I don’t think I said that,” Ravik replies.

“It’s, um, the noises. I think,” Tad offers, his face turning quite red.

“Okay, before this devolves further…anyone else up for checking out the UFO Museum with us today?” I ask.

“I’d rather go back to the fairgrounds,” Poppy says, side-eyeing Tad and Ravik.

“Likewise.” Ravik is exceptionally skilled at saying as little as possible.

“Agreed,” Tad chimes in, pushing away his empty plate. “There’s a folk music session later that Jaz and I talked about checking out.”

“Then I guess I’ll buddy up with Ravik. What’re we doing today?” Poppy nudges Ravik with a telling smirk.

Yep, that’s what she was planning earlier. Now she can poke at them all day to get even for the “sensual eater” comment.