Page 13 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

My hackles rose. I had always been a pretty good judge of character, but I didn’t always get it right (hence the cheating ex). Did I just offer the opportunity to a quirky weirdo, or a certifiable creep? I decided to test the waters by putting on my best I’m-a-very-stern-and-formidable-boss act, which I only used on rare occasions on account of it being the antithesis of my relatively easygoing nature.

“What are you doing waiting around?” I barked. “Aprons are over there, the sink to wash your hands is right there. Eggs are in the walk-in,” I pointed, “and your station is here. You want the job or not?”

Kal

I’ve mentioned before that I knew a lot about humans. On Xaerea, I’d read nearly every academic paper, seen every documentary, watched as much human media as I could get my tentacles on—even when the options were limited. So I had seen plenty of humans in my lifetime, at least, on screens and paper.

The woman in front of me had to be the most beautiful human I had ever seen. She was a riot of color. Tan skin, pink hair, brilliant blue eyes. Shorter than me, with a full figure and a smile that could melt the ice on any of Xaerea’s moons.

The truth was, I would have said anything to keep talking to her. Anything she asked of me, I would have said yes. Which was how I ended up in an apron with a tray full of eggs and no clue what to do next.

Somehow, I had managed to get a new job offer while I was still technically employed on my home planet, successfully blended in as a human (so far), and met the loveliest human in existence. As far as luck went, my good luck began to outweigh the bad, if you didn’t take into account that I had recently launched myself through space accidentally and triggered a manhunt that would probably result in losing my real job and possibly jail time.

Besides, I had long been enamored with the human concept of looking at a glass as half-full rather than half-empty, ever since encountering it in my studies. Another reason other Xaereans found me odd—my ability to overlook hard facts and find the bright side to almost any situation.

Though even I could see how my positive outlook wasn’t always the best approach, since I had exactly zero experience in anything related to human food, and I was slightly terrified to say otherwise. Being from Xaerea wasn’t much help, either, because our main source of nutrition came from pre-made nutritional formulas and supplements that were both unappetizing and packed with everything our kind needed to stay alive and healthy. Entirely optimized for efficiency and sustenance, not enjoyment.

On the other hand, wouldn’t it have been strange to agree and then immediately back out? Surely that would have made me look even more out of place.

There was a brief moment where I considered running. Or simply explaining to the beautiful, intimidating woman that I was not there for the job—it was just a misunderstanding.

My body felt slightly off balance, either from the hu-suit or the new circumstance, and I began to doubt…everything. What had I done? What was I doing? Why was I like this, and how could I be so, so stupid?

Whenever I began to spiral like this, I had to close my eyes and count while focusing on breathing. It wasn’t the end of the world; it was the beginning of an adventure. I had always wanted an adventure, and here I was, finally on a real one.

“I need three eggs over easy, one over medium, and a sunny-side up, stat!”

I opened my eyes to find the woman stirring and flipping and plating in a whirl of action. In her natural habitat, I thought. Entirely at ease.

“What are you doing just standing there…sorry. What’s your name again?”

Her attention was trained on me, captivating me. What was my name? I hadn’t considered that I would need a human name to go with my new human identity. I considered giving my full Xaerean name, but I worried it would give me away immediately. Instead, I went with the first thing that came to mind.

“You can call me Kal,” I said, giving her a shortened, easier-to-pronounce version of my name.

“Okay. Kal, I’m Lola.” She held a hand to her chest.

Lola. A lovely name for a lovely human.

She continued, “I know I kind of thrust this on you and everything. But if you seriously want the job, I’m going to need you to start cracking eggs or get the heck out of my kitchen.”

Cracking eggs. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but I supposed I could give it a try. How hard could it be to crack one of these small, white things? I picked one up and held it close to my face to examine it. Tapped on it lightly. Nothing happened. Held it along the top and bottom and applied pressure. Took it in the palm of my hand and squeezed. Still nothing.

The sound of metal scraping on metal from nearby startled me, and I dropped the egg. It fell to the counter with a crack, a slimy, clear and yellow liquid oozing out.

Aha!

I realized I must have been doing it all wrong at first. This was how to crack eggs. I picked up another and slammed it to the surface with another satisfying sound. Again and again, I repeated this process until I’d worked my way through a line of eggs from the tray.

It wasn’t so hard, this cooking thing. Or blending in as a terranaut, for that matter. Hadn’t I already successfully convinced multiple humans that I was one of them? With my extensive knowledge of human customs, fitting in as a human couldn’t be too terribly difficult if I kept thinking like a terranaut. Wear the suit, act normal, and lie low until the search party came for me.

I even momentarily wondered if I could use this experience in my defense when I got back home. Reasons my department shouldn’t just let me keep my job, but promote me to full-time terranaut. Could be worth a shot considering the amount of trouble I would be in otherwise.

“What the hell are you doing?” There was a shout, right as I dropped another egg on the pile of shells and viscous liquid insides on the counter.

I turned to find Lola watching me, wide-eyed and red-faced as I sent another egg to the countertop.

“Cracking eggs!” I thought it should have been obvious, but I was more than happy for another opportunity to talk to her.