Page 3 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

I could swallow the embarrassment of being looked down upon, and I could deal with the constant disrespect—because I had finally made it out of the admin pool. I was officially the Exploratory Unit’s Human Expert Lead for Earth Missions. Temporary or not, I was determined to make it count.

Which meant I had to get through the additional training sessions for hands-on experience, even if that necessitated dealing with Sel’s attitude for a little longer.

But I was distracted. It was the first time I had stepped foot in a command center since my incident, and I couldn’t keep my tentacles to myself. This was where the magic happened. Where our planet managed all missions and space travel to Earth. And I had made it, finally.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Kalexdyorn? Get your slimy, spotted ass out of that commander’s chair.”

I jumped in surprise, accidentally nudging a knob with a tentacle. With a start, I shuffled back and tentatively rotated the knob back to its previous position—or close enough. My tentacles settled behind me, tucked near my body to keep me on my best behavior.

Sel was in fine form. She had already called me slimy twice, and that was the third time she’d made fun of the small dark spots that covered my face and arms. And, for the record, I wasn’t slimy; I had just spilled my liquid nutritional formula on myself this morning and didn’t have time to fully clean it off. My skin was freckled—an unusual trait—but I never considered it something to be ashamed of. At times I couldn’t stand how rigid and single-minded people were. Small differences became massive rifts. Sameness, uniformity, that was all anyone cared about.

I hopped up from the commander’s seat, leaving behind the bank of screens showing live footage from Earth.

Beautiful.

Every day I wondered how a planet such as Earth could exist in the same harsh, cold universe I called home. I thought about humans, how they grew into many shapes and sizes, colors and shades. Some had spots like mine, and they were considered beautiful. I wondered if I were human, would they make fun of me for being different?

Sel’s hard, angry stare snapped me out of my daydreams. Clearly she wanted the training session to be over with. I did, too. I craved stepping away from training and exploring the command center on my own time. There was so much to see and learn, and I wanted to soak up as much as I could while I had the chance.

“Next up is the hu-suit room,” Sel said as I trailed behind her. I absolutely did not squeak with excitement when she said this and try to cover it up with a cough. She gave me a nasty look for some other, certainly unrelated reason. At least, that was what I told myself to maintain my dignity.

Of all the items in my training, the hu-suit room was what I was most looking forward to. In a chamber right outside the travel pod launch pad, there was a room full of suits designed to look like real Earth humans, and engineered to feel and move like them, too. Hu-suits, or human suits, completely changed how Xaereans conducted exploratory missions on Earth. The suits made it so we could live among humans for extended periods, because Earthlings couldn’t detect an alien in a hu-suit versus one of their own. A seventy-year-old feat of ingenuity, and I was finally, finally going to see a real one in person.

When the lights flickered on, I squeaked in earnest, with no excuse that indicated otherwise. I was too excited to contain myself. There along the wall, lined up in no particular order, were dozens of hu-suits. Multiple varieties, already dressed in Earthling fashion. Some were decked out in colorful outfits—even a couple of uniforms—while others looked relatively plain. My fingers trailed over the spectrum of skin tones, marveling at the soft, fleshy exteriors.

Professionalism be damned, I couldn’t help myself any longer. I had to ask if I could wear one. Just this once, in case I never got another opportunity.

Be cool about it, though. Don’t let Sel sense your desperation. She hates desperation.

“Can I please, please, please, pretty please put on one of the hu-suits?” I asked, immediately showing my cards as my hands and tentacles clasped together in a plea.

Sel rolled her eyes as usual. But it must have been my lucky day—she actually agreed. “Just make sure you put it back where you found it,” Sel said before walking away. “And don’t you dare damage it. Any repairs will come out of your next paycheck.”

As if I would ever dream of damaging a masterpiece.

I ran my tentacle along the wall, letting it graze the exteriors of the human suits as I decided which to try on. Tall? Short? Round? Impossibly muscular with movie star good looks? A tentacle hovered next to that last one, but I reconsidered. I would feel ridiculous in that hu-suit, especially as my first try-on. I whispered, “I’ll be back,” to the movie star suit and kept moving.

The experience was all I needed to remind myself to dream bigger. There could—no, would—be a day when I would get to choose a hu-suit of my very own, to wear on an Earth mission.

With a sigh, I settled on the suit that looked most like my actual body type. Medium height, average build, pinkish skin, and dark brown hair. Two strange, flaccid holes looked back at me from the face mask.

I stepped into it, and the fleshy material felt spongy, but strangely elastic as it pushed my tentacles tight to my body. I wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was…weird. When I slipped the mask over my head, completely encasing myself inside, the suit fastened itself along the back and tightened to a snug fit.

In the mirror by the suit racks, I studied myself, turning this way and that to see the full effect.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

I looked exactly like a human I would have learned about in my studies. From every angle, I could pass as an Earthling. I ran my fingers through the thick mess of hair, admiring how it moved like waves of grass. I opened and closed my eyes quickly; the reflection did the same thing. The skin of my suited arms was flawless—none of the constellations of spots that marred my own skin were visible. The only familiar parts of me in the reflection were the green irises of my eyes.

What once seemed like a faraway dream suddenly felt much more real. Someday, maybe I would get to see Earth in person. Interact with humans in their natural habitats. Possibly see a dog. Or pet a dog, for that matter. Since I was young, I had always wanted to know what it felt like to pet a dog. I would have settled for the opportunity to pet a cat, too, but frankly, they scared me. It was the way they would slink around so haughtily without a care in the world. Disturbingly, cats reminded me of my irritable colleague, Sel. Based on that alone, I assumed that I would like them well enough, but they wouldn’t like me.

“Kalexdyorn! Can you hurry it up? I don’t have all day!”

Speaking of Sel…

Tugging at the color of the plain white t-shirt, I took one last look in the mirror and watched as a smile spread across my face. Well, the face that wasn’t my face—the hu-suit’s face. I looked so convincingly human that it nearly took my breath away.

With my reflection looking back at me, I had never felt so certain that I was exactly where I needed to be to get where I wanted to go: planet Earth. On a mission to somewhere new and fantastical, full of human beings. I wanted to be where the people were because I felt something I knew none of my colleagues felt. It was a bone-deep recognition that I didn’t belong here on this planet, but rather in a place galaxies away. I knew it in my heart.