With a soundless sputter, the flying saucer dropped shakily out of hyperspace and into a scarcely frequented region of the galaxy.

Inside the tiny cockpit of derelict spacecraft, a shadowy figure sat hunched tight, their face lit only by the red glow of the dashboard. Their gaze landed on a group of planets orbiting a single yellow star. Three yellow eyes narrowed at the third planet: a small blue ball whose dark side glimmered with artificial lights.

“■●○□◇▪■□!!” The figure cackled evilly. Their grin revealed multiple rows of sharp-edged teeth. At last, the search was over! It had taken long—too long. Who could have guessed the imperial princess was hiding out here in the boonies?

Snarling, the figure slammed a giant fist on the startup button…

…nothing happened.

“☆■□◇■■!!!!!” they swore. Four arms swung simultaneously over the commands, denting the dashboard. Finally, the obsolete saucer hiccupped forwards. “■□●●…” the shadow grumbled, cursing their unit-pinching employer.

Slowly, laboriously, painfully, the alien ship hopped its way towards Earth.

♢ ♢ ♢

“...last reminder. The purpose of this paper is to explore a topic of your choice related to the subject of cosmology. Analyze its effect on our society, its importance for our future, or its role in evolving philosophical and religious ideas. This should be a broad enough assignment to grant some easy marks to those of you– Yes, I’m looking at you, Mr. Geraghty. Wipe that silly look off your face. You’re not fooling anyone… Those of you, was I saying, whose performance in this course has been less than stellar so far.”

The professor chuckled at his own joke, spectacularly ignoring the pained groans echoing around the sparsely populated auditorium.

“The papers should be in my emails by midnight next Sunday, at the latest! And please refrain from all copying Mr. Barker’s work this time. I look forwards to reading your paper, Terry. Class dismissed!”

The gazes of all the students briefly converged on me, and I quickly ducked to try in vain to hide behind my raised textbook. There were few things I hated more than being the center of attention. Yet Professor Garner insisted on singling me out repeatedly and very publicly heaped praise upon me. I hated it, but I lacked the courage to confront the affable old academician about it.

Recognition wasn’t why I put effort into my studies.

I simply loved the stars.

Ever since I was little, they held a mysterious fascination for me. I’d lay awake in bed for hours on end, staring out the window and letting my mind take flight, off up into the glittering night sky, wondering what existed beyond this small Earth.

Maybe, out there, there was somewhere I could feel like I belonged, where I wouldn’t be so weird and out of place.

I methodically put away my notebook, syllabus, and writing implements, taking my time and waiting for the other students to filter out of the room. I also hated the bustle at the door, the press of bodies, and the fragrances of sweat and cheap deodorants that characterized a crowd of impatient college students eager to shove themselves through the bottleneck of the exit.

Besides, this was the last course of the week, and I was in no hurry to get to another class.

“Hey! Weekend at last, ma dude!” The rough clap that descended on my back very nearly slammed my nose into the desk. “Tell me we’re still on for tonight!”

I scrambled to adjust my glasses, then I glared up at the giant of a man towering above me. Or, at least, I tried to glare. My fierce stare ended more as a chagrined pout, and it faltered when matched by the other’s bright, confident grin.

Hunter Geraghty was a shining example of pure alpha manliness: tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, outgoing, and overflowing with self-confidence.

In other words, everything I wasn’t.

Hunter had a single earring in his left ear. I was deathly afraid of needles.

He had icy blue eyes evoking frozen great lakes and glittering glaciers. My pupils looked like muddy brown puddles.

His bright red hair, he kept shaved short and even, like his thick beard. My head sported a dull mop, prematurely greying—at twenty!—that stayed an untamable, cow-licked mess no matter what I tried. And I had not even a patchy fuzz to my name and cheeks.

The latter, I minded the least.

Unfazed by my doomed attempt at intimidating him, Hunter continued grinning broadly, shining rows of straight white teeth fit for a toothpaste commercial. I ducked down again, this time to cover a blush, and mumbled complaints under my breath, not daring to speak my frustrations out loud.

Not that Hunter would take offense. Under his jackass jock good looks, the guy was a big teddy bear, a soft marshmallow who helped old ladies cross the road and volunteered at the local hospital to play with sick kids.

No, his reaction didn’t worry me. I kept quiet simply because I would die of embarrassment otherwise. I wasn’t good with confrontations, not even with my lifelong best friends—all two of them. Not that I understood why either of them hung around me.

“Live him alone, oaf.” A cold feminine voice cut through the air like a knife, as if summoned by my wonderings, followed by an eraser smacking between Hunter’s red brows with a sniper’s accuracy.

Onyx Cheng climbed between the auditorium rows like a queen walking the halls of her castle. The half-Chinese woman’s expression was unreadable as always. Her face’s ivory skin formed a mask, smooth and perfect, as if she had never emoted in her life—which might not be far from the truth.

Her raven hair showed faint purple highlights. It parted impeccably in the middle and rejoined at her nape in a loose ponytail. Her features were that of a doll, though not the porcelain kind. Instead, she looked like those more-perfect-than-life mannequins you saw in chic clothing shopfronts.

I knew for a fact she had received many offers for modeling, but if she had accepted any, she never told me. Though I doubted she had. People called me antisocial, but Onyx never talked to anyone if she could avoid it. However, it wasn’t because she shared my crippling shyness. Instead, she seemed a genuine misanthrope.

Thus her friendship with me puzzled me even more than Hunter’s. The tall redhead was the type to stand to bullies for others’ sake. He’d been my self-appointed bulwark since middle school, and I’d come to accept being his preferred charity case.

Onyx, on the other hand, was our neighbors’ daughter. As a child, I thought she only hung out with me because our parents were friends. Then she had stuck with me through high school and now college. I had lost count of the times I took advantage of her stoic disinterest when I needed a cold, uncritical shoulder to cry on. Hunter would have wanted to know what was wrong. Onyx barely batted an eye, hugged me awkwardly, and never mentioned it afterward.

A few years ago, I’d entertained the thought she might be using me to get close to Hunter. They were both smart and attractive, and opposites supposedly attracted, didn’t they? However, the one time I gathered the courage to ask, the soda can in Onyx’s grasp had suddenly crumpled in her grip, spraying its content like a fountain.

Her slender limbs packed a surprising amount of strength.

Then without a care for the sticky sweet liquid seeping into her designer shirt, she’d dropped a simple, crisp answer.

“No.”

Her tone could have deep-frozen icicles.

I never asked again.

Instead, I had come up with a new working theory.

Before their tragic death, Onyx’s parents had been too strict to allow a pet into their home. They’d been kind but old-fashioned and absolutely inflexible. And for all her misanthropy, Onyx loved animals. So… my best guess was that I had been her version of a parent-sanctioned Poodle.

Even now, five years after the car accident, with Onyx having the neighboring house to herself, she never took a pet. She probably had invested too much time and effort in my training to give me up now for a Bichon Frise.

Sunk cost fallacy, and all that…

My self-deprecating reverie was interrupted by Hunter’s booming voice.

“Oh-Hoh?! The Ice Queen enters the ring!” The redhead smirked, uncaring for the red spot between his brows. He raised his fists in a guard and threw several punches in the air. He’d taken up boxing in high school and even won a couple of local championships.

Unbelievable. I mean, there had to be a limit to how amazing someone could be, right?

I had no idea where Hunter found the time to do sports, on top of his volunteer work and his double major in Astronomy and Physics. Not to mention, I strongly suspected he had taken up Astronomy just to keep an eye on me.

He was sweet like that.

Onyx slanted eyes narrowed for a fraction of an inch—her equivalent of a deep scowl.

“Don’t start fights you cannot win, ape.”

“Is that so, hmmm?” Hunter’s grin turned slightly feral, and he did some more shadow boxing. “Going to show me those sweet Chinese kung fu moves?”

“If you want authenticity, I can gun you down from a moving vehicle, triad style. Would you like that, Irish boy?” Her usual flat tone made it hard to know if she was joking. Although, the faintest rise of lips suggested she might be… or maybe not.

Hunter seemed to decide she did. He mimed getting shot in the chest, looking betrayed, and falling backward dramatically. He caught himself just before losing balance, his powerful legs springing him back up, and his friendly shit-eating grin bounced back as well.

“So, you too, Queenie?” He shot her finger guns. “Ter’s place, nine sharp? Can’t wait to take my new baby for a spin up the hills!”

I repressed an eye roll. Ever since he’d bought his new truck last week, the man wouldn’t shut up about it. You’d think it was his lover. Ridiculous.

No, I wasn’t jealous of a truck.

Onyx sighed near imperceptibly. Her gaze fell to me, who was still sitting between the two of them. “If Terry wants to.”

Again, I had to fight down a blush. The rest of Onyx’s face might lack expression, but her black eyes always seemed disturbingly intense. Their unwavering attention felt as if she were staring deep into my soul. Although, what she might see in there besides a tar pit of insecurities and carefully nurtured self-loathing, I again had no clue.

“I’d like that,” I answered hurriedly—if only to stop two of the most important people in my life from glaring at each other over my head.

“Great! See you then! Ma dude! Icicle.” Hunter bounded down the stairs backward—nearly causing me heart failure. He waved at me, shot another mocking finger-gun salute at Onyx, and disappeared out the door. How he squeezed his larger-than-life personality through the human-sized opening… that too remained a mystery.

Onyx glared at the door for a moment before turning back to me, her face kind of softening—insofar as she had been tense before. “Shall we?”

“Ah! Y-Yes!” I practically leaped off my seat. She acknowledged my answer with a nod, then stepped past me and elegantly bent down to pick up the eraser she had sniped Hunter with.

I did my best not to stare at her interminably long legs, faintly suggested by her baggy designer pants, or at her shapely rump when the cloth drew tight over it. But, despite myself, I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my jeans.

I shifted awkwardly, mortified. The last thing I wanted was to objectify my friend. But I was alive, way too awkward for a relationship, and it wasn’t my fault that both my friends were so insufferably hot, darn it! Between Hunter’s tight shirts and Onyx’s runway legs, every day was a small slice of my personal hell.

And they could never know it.

It was already weird that they tolerated me, with my stammering shyness, creepy grandpa hair, and neurotic behavior. I wasn’t about to let my silly crush mess up our friendship.

Belatedly, I realized Onyx had started down towards the door and was staring back at me expectantly… or impatiently. I had no idea. Stifling an apology, I hurried after her.

♢♢♢

I sometimes wonder, if I had known back then, how the night would turn out, how the events on that hill would influence our lives, our families, and Earth… would I have agreed to Hunter’s invitation?

Would it have mattered?

Even today, these questions sometimes keep me up well after the suns have set.

. . .