Page 58 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

I felt breathless. I couldn’t let Lola think I was special; I wasn’t special at all. Whatever positive impressions Lola had of me, I knew they wouldn’t last once she got to know me better. They never did.

“You don’t even know me,” I said.

Lola reeled back, her face a mask of dismay. “So you think I don’t know what I’m talking about,” she retorted. “That I’m wrong? Or maybe you just think you’re not worthy of kindness. Is that it?”

I was startled by the ferocity of her reaction. Her words stung.

“No, I—”

“Well, it’s got to be one of those!” Lola insisted.

Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, and I watched them helplessly. This was my fault, too.

“I’ve known a lot of bad people in my life—and a lot of good ones, too,” she said. “I might not always get it right, but usually I do. And in this case, I know I’ve got it right. If you want to disagree with me, it’s got to be because you think I’m stupid, I’m gullible, or that you’re not worthy.”

Lola looked at me, intent. “So, which is it, Kal?”

My vision blurred around the edges as I tried to regain control. I was just trying to be honest. I wanted Lola to understand the truth of me. That I was the problem. I had always been the problem, and that would never change. Those qualities she mentioned—they didn’t matter on Xaerea, so they shouldn’t matter to me. But they did. They really did.

“I don’t think you’re stupid or gullible,” I said too loud for the small space. My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to regain my composure and stop the world from spinning.

Lola’s next words were as softly spoken as they were devastating to hear. “So you think you’re not worthy of love.”

What could I say other than the truth? I kept my eyes closed and simply said, “Yes.”

And then Lola’s arms were wrapping around my neck and her soft body was dragging me into a hug that almost made me lose my center of gravity. But her arms were anchors; they grounded me.

“But you are,” Lola whispered against my neck. “Everyone is.”

And then she was kissing me again. I returned the kiss, slow and gentle. Her cheeks were wet, and her lips tasted of salt, and there was that feeling again, unsettled and wistful, like this was exactly where I was meant to be, but at any moment it could disappear.

I pulled back and swiped a thumb across Lola’s cheek. She smiled at me, thin and small, and curled a lock of my hair around her finger.

“I want to show you something,” Lola said eventually.

I followed Lola down the narrow hallway, where she led me into a room. There was a bed with a mess of covers, and she sat down on the edge of it and patted the spot next to her.

“Sit.”

I sat down beside her.

“Lie back.”

I lay back.

The mattress shifted as Lola got up. The room went completely dark when she turned off the overhead light. Then: a constellation of stars across the ceiling, hazy yellows, blues and pinks sprinkled with bright pinpricks of light. Another shift, and I could feel Lola’s arm brush against mine as she lay down next to me.

“It’s a lamp,” Lola said after a moment. Her finger came to rest on the inside of my wrist. “My dad got it for me when I was younger, and I’ve kept it ever since.” She paused. “I’ve always loved looking up at the stars. It made me feel small, but like, in a good way, you know? Like I wasn’t alone. Like even if I messed something up, it didn’t matter that much in the whole scheme of things.”

Sometimes when I looked out at the stars, I would feel awe that the universe was so big, so full of infinite possibilities. But it also made me feel lonely. How, in all the galaxies in all the universe, I had ended up in a place where I didn’t quite fit.

“I like that,” I said after giving it some thought.

My tentacle curled loosely around Lola’s shoulder, and she shimmied closer.

“Which part?” Lola asked.

“Not feeling alone.”