Page 4 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

And even if all of my coworkers thought I was a screwup, I vowed to prove them wrong. I would work my way into the role of terranaut, no matter what obstacles came my way. It was my destiny.

But for now, I had to keep pushing through and proving my worth to my team so I could keep working my way up the ladder. Which meant finishing up the training session and claiming my seat at the table where the real work got done.

With this realization, I hustled to find Sel. She was waiting for me in the next room over, leaning against the door of a solo travel pod. Her foot tapped a steady, impatient rhythm as she looked me up and down. “You look like a total dork in that,” Sel said with a smirk.

I stilled. How could I have forgotten I was still wearing the hu-suit? In the back of my mind, I noted how comfortable the thing was—truly like a second skin. In the front of my mind, all I could think about was my colleague’s insult. Embarrassment trickled hotly down my spine. I couldn’t let it take over, though. I didn’t want to give Sel another reason to look down on me.

Instead, I ignored my coworker’s jibe and pushed past her into the pod. She had no idea how long I had waited to experience this, and I wouldn’t let her ruin the moment.

The small spacecraft was nothing short of amazing. “Incredible,” I whispered as I took in the interior.

Sel snorted. “This is nothing, newbie. This model is old. About to be decommissioned.” Her nose scrunched in extreme distaste as she looked around the small space, from the pilot seat to the foldout table, nutritional formula dispenser, and sleeping nook. “The newer travel pods have all the bells and whistles—real top-of-the-line stuff. Of course, you don’t have the clearance to see them.”

I was too enraptured with my surroundings to pay much attention to Sel’s callous remarks. When I didn’t respond to her goading, she huffed and exited the spacecraft with loud, heavy footsteps.

“When you’re done mooning over this old piece of junk, come meet me in my office so we can sign off on the training paperwork.” Under her breath, she grumbled, “Waste of time anyway, since you won’t be in the frontline unit for very long.”

Something I never understood about others on my planet was how they stopped being amazed by these inventions years ago. The fact that we had the ability to travel to other planets and blend in with them entirely would never cease to amaze me.

Although I didn’t like Sel’s attitude about most things, I did agree with her on that last part. I also wanted to complete the training and submit final paperwork so I could officially start my new temporary role. I allowed myself one last look around the pod, committing the moment to memory. I would be back in one of these crafts someday—as a true terranaut, not a temp.

But as I stepped from the flight deck toward the pod door, my foot caught in a gap on the floor. My arms pinwheeled as I tried to regain balance. It would have been so much easier without the hu-suit. With my tentacles constrained in the suit, I struggled to control my body, which felt newly awkward and unwieldy. I stumbled against the wall by the doorway, accidentally pressing a button in the process. Immediately, the pod door slammed closed with a hiss and a loud thunk.

I gripped the edge of the door’s window and pulled myself up. Through the porthole, I saw Sel running toward the pod, yelling and pointing animatedly in the air. But I couldn’t hear her through the thick barrier, and I was trying to focus on finding the button that would let me out.

I tried pressing the button a second time. Instead of the door opening, I heard a loud click, like a piece of metal locking into place.

So…not that button.

The knob beside that button looked promising, though, so I turned it all the way to the left. This time, a metal table sprang from the wall and hit me in the stomach. Even with the extra protection of the hu-suit, the air was knocked from me. I tumbled backward and managed to catch myself on the arm of the pilot’s chair with one hand, but my elbow landed against the control panel. It lit up.

“Flight mode: activated,” said a polite computerized voice from the speaker.

“No, no, no.” This couldn’t have been happening. I couldn’t be stuck in a travel pod on my first official day in my new job. The job that was supposed to change the trajectory of my career, my life. I scanned the panel to find whichever control could turn the computer off. There had to be something.

I found a lever, thinking that might be the solution. Except when I flipped the lever, the next thing I heard was, “Take-off protocol: initiated.”

“No!” My head whipped around as I shouted at the computer to turn off, even though I was fairly certain it couldn’t hear me.

Okay…the big red button. That’ll stop this whole thing, right? Surely that had to be the correct one—it was big and red. It should have been obvious from the start. Big red buttons mean stop.

“Countdown has begun.”

So, that didn’t work.

I ran to the porthole again. If I really concentrated, I could probably make out what Sel was yelling. I found her jumping up and down, shouting at me and slapping at the air in wild patterns. I didn’t know what to do. The only thing I could think of was to hold my hands in the air, a picture of innocence. Unsurprisingly, that approach didn’t help either.

Sel gawked at me wide-eyed, color flushing her cheeks. I stared back at her, eyes just as wide as the computer continued its countdown.

“Three…two…one…”

The last thing I saw before launching into space was Sel covering her face with her hands and tentacles. The last thing I heard before I passed out was the lifeless voice of the computer.

“Destination: Earth.”

Lola

My arms shook as I hefted a bag of flour onto a shelf in the back room that was immediately adjacent to the restaurant office. If the burn in my biceps was anything to go on, I think it was safe to say I might have gone a little overboard on ordering this time around. The supplier had offered to cut me a deal because he was a friend of a friend’s cousin—one of those insignificant connections that can be quite significant in a place like Roswell Falls. Besides, I was trying to think ahead by buying in bulk while I still had the funds. I thought it was the smart, frugal thing to do.