Page 42 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

“Doesn’t matter. Hand over the painkillers and scram,” I said, holding out my hand, palm-side up.

“Not until you ask nicely.” Then Jacob’s mouth fell open. “Oh. My. Gosh.”

My brother threw his fists in the air and shouted, “I told you so!”

I followed my brother’s eyeline and saw Kal peeking his head—his real head—from the doorway to the living room. Yep. I knew this was a monumentally stupid idea.

“Stop that!” I hissed, pulled at Jacob’s shirt. “And you didn’t tell me anything.”

“Yes, I did!” he insisted.

“No,” I said, holding up a finger from my good hand. “You called Kal weird and a lizard person, and you were really rude about it.”

“And was I wrong?”

I scrubbed my uninjured hand over my face, exasperated. “You know what? I’m too messed up for this. Whatever, you were right. Kal is an alien from another planet, and you’re a genius.”

“Whoa.” Jacob gawked at me, then at Kal, who looked like a human up to his neck and an alien from the neck up. “That’s awesome. Let me grab my camera to get some pictures. Maybe some candids? I’ll let you decide. We’re gonna be rich!”

He turned to leave, and I grabbed my brother by his shirt again.

“You are not taking photos of Kal and selling them. Kal is a person, not a spectacle. I mean…even if he is an alien.”

I turned to Kal, who was watching us with his arms hugged tightly around his middle. “And just because he’s different doesn’t mean we treat him differently. Okay?”

Jacob harrumphed at me but grumbled in agreement.

“Besides,” I said, “we have bigger things to worry about than proof that aliens exist.”

Jacob scrunched his nose at me. “Like what?”

“Like the fact that I hurt my wrist and I don’t have health insurance,” I said, cringing as I lifted my arm. “Or that I only have a few weeks to prepare Southern Charm for the Greatest Restaurants of the Great Smoky Mountains Contest. Or that…”

I trailed off, not able to bring myself to speak the truth out loud. Or that if I don’t win first place, or can’t figure out how to bring in new business, I’ll have to shut the family business down for good.

“Or that it’s almost your bedtime and I would bet money that you haven’t finished your homework yet,” I said, changing the topic.

Jacob’s mouth hung open. “You just found out aliens exist and you only care about some stupid contest and homework?”

Before I could argue that this was actually a very normal and healthy priority, Jacob turned his attention to Kal directly and started peppering him with questions—about his home planet, why he was here, where his ship was parked. The little twerp couldn’t even finish one question before starting another.

I noticed that Kal, who seemed quite calm throughout most of this disastrous evening, was beginning to look overwhelmed.

I needed to step in. Delirious and in pain as I was, it wasn’t right to subject Kal to this level of unfettered attention from a very enthusiastic teenager.

“Jacob! Let Kal breathe! And get out of here before Mom or Dad figure out you’re not home.”

He rolled his eyes at me in a uniquely I-am-an-annoying-teenager way.

“Don’t you want to know why he’s here? What he wants with us? How long he’s staying? You’re the type of person who dies first in a horror movie.”

I sputtered. That was extremely rude and upsettingly accurate. But more than anything, I was stuck on one thing Jacob said in particular.

If Kal isn’t from this planet, how long is he staying?

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Well, I just don’t think we should be asking him such personal questions,” I said.

A throat cleared, prompting Jacob and me to turn toward Kal in unison. “I’m right here,” he said, wiggling his fingers in an awkward wave. “Maybe you could talk to me directly?”