Starstruck by Brenda Hiatt Read Free Book Online Page B

turned that night, and when I did fall asleep, sometime after two, I dreamed about Rigel—and not the good kind of dream. Instead, I kept seeing the horrified look he’d had on his face when he touched me. Only, in my dream, I noticed my hands had gone all scaly, and when I felt my face, that was scaly too—and I’d sprouted horns.
    Like I did every morning, I woke up five minutes before my alarm went off. Remembering my creepy dream, the first thing I did was check my hands and face. No scales. No horns. And Rigel hadn’t exactly looked horrified. Had he?
    Feeling like I’d barely slept at all, I turned off the alarm before it buzzed and rolled out of bed with a groan. If I didn’t hurry, Uncle Louie would need the bathroom before I was done with it. Some people might call our nearly hundred-year-old house charming, but I thought a second bathroom would add a heck of a lot more charm than gingerbread trim and dormered windows.
    I took my usual quick shower, brushed my teeth and dragged a comb through my wet hair, then flipped open my tube of acne cream. Leaning close to the mirror—I was pretty nearsighted without my glasses—I verified again that I didn’t have any scales on my face.
    I also didn’t seem to have half the zits I’d had yesterday.
    Huh.
    I looked closer. Yeah, I still had a few, but that nasty one beside my nose was completely gone, along with those two red ones on my forehead. In fact, my skin looked clearer than it had in two years. Nice! After three months, this acne medicine was finally doing its job.
    Back in my room, I agonized over what I could wear that would convince Rigel that I was perfectly normal.
    After strewing practically the entire contents of my closet and drawers over my bed, I finally chose my favorite, best-fitting jeans and a green sleeveless t-shirt Bri had once said was the exact same color as my eyes. I wished for a second that I’d borrowed that eye pencil of Bri’s, then realized I was barely going to have time for breakfast, much less makeup.
     
    “That’s a great color on you,” Bri said when she saw me on the bus. “I’ve still got the makeup if you want it, too.”
    I was relieved that she approved. “Thanks. I’ll just use that purple pencil thing, if that’s okay—guess I should get one of my own, huh?”
    Bri shrugged. “You can have mine. I hardly ever use that color—doesn’t go as well with brown eyes. I can always borrow it back from you if I need it.”
    “Thanks!” That much makeup I could probably remember on a daily basis.
    “Maggie needed her straightener today, so I couldn’t bring it.” Deb was apologetic, but I didn’t really mind.
    “No biggie. It’s too much hassle for every day anyway. Maybe I’ll ask for one for Christmas and use it for special occasions.”
    Since the eye pencil only took a minute I was early to class, giving me way too much time to obsess about Rigel. Would he sit by me, like in English yesterday? If he did, I could tell him about the static thing right then. If not, I’d tell him after class—or as soon as Trina let me get a word with him. I didn’t want to risk Bri or Deb making it sound weirder than it was.
    Just before class started, Trina came in—alone. Even though all the seats near me were full now, I kept watching the door for Rigel. But the bell rang, and he never showed up.
    “Where’s Rigel?” Deb whispered from behind me.
    All I could do was shrug. Though I knew it was stupid, I couldn’t quite squash a tiny, niggling fear that he’d switched his schedule again after what had happened yesterday. Would they let him change his classes twice in three days?
    It looked like Trina didn’t know any more about Rigel’s absence than I did, since she kept glancing at the door too, and frowning. I got a bit of satisfaction from that, at least.
    I spent all of Computer class wondering whether Rigel would be in English, then hurried there to find out.
    He wasn’t.
    “Rigel wasn’t in