There Will Be Aliens

1

Carlo Russo plucked the cigarette from Grace’s fingers and put it to his lips. He wasn’t a smoker anymore, had quit six years ago, but tonight he needed it.

Grace huffed. “It will be okay, you know. He’s an ass.” Her dark blue eyes lit with anger. “My God, what an ass he is. I don’t understand why you didn’t walk out of there a long time ago.”

“I love him.”

She shook her head. “You don’t.” When he was about to object, she kept on talking. “You love the idea of a boyfriend. You love having something you can call a family. You love belonging. You love having a home. You love someone needing you. But you don’t love him.”

He stared, wishing he had a thousand pieces of evidence to prove her wrong, but he didn’t. Ryan breaking up with him hurt. It hurt way more than he’d believed it would. But Grace had a point. It was not belonging anywhere that hurt the most.

“You’re smart and good-looking. You’ll find someone else.” She gave him a wet kiss on his cheek and stole back the cigarette.

“Eww.” He rubbed his cheek. “Do I have lipstick on me now?”

She laughed and blew out a cloud of smoke around them. “It’s nothing that would kill you.”

He wasn’t sure. Lipstick probably had a million different ingredients causing cancer and shit in them.

“Don’t pout.”

“I’m not.”

She linked her arm in his and rested her head against his shoulder. “One day, you’ll find Prince Charming.” She gazed at the stars. “Or we’ll build a spaceship and move to the moon.”

Carlo grimaced. “The moon? You won’t get me to set foot on a spaceship. Never.” He shuddered at the idea. Astronauts had to have some severe brain damage to willingly leave the planet. He looked at the stars. Out there, there was nothing but eternal blackness. It was like being in a grave.

His heart beat fast as the night sky pressed down on him.

“Stop it.”

Grace’s voice made him jump. “What?”

“You’re doing the claustrophobia thing.”

“Claustrophobia is not a thing.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “But you’re doing it. Your muscles tense, your breaths come faster.” She took another pull at the cigarette. “I know the signs.”

“You were the one talking about the two of us on a spaceship.”

“Space is never-ending. How can it trigger claustrophobia?”

Carlo’s lungs shrank. “It’s dark, you can’t breathe, there is no way out, and did I mention you can’t breathe?”

“Easy, easy.” She chuckled and patted his arm. “One, people like us will never go to space. Two, no one would ever force you into a spaceship. There are enough idiots fighting to get on one for there to be any room for someone who doesn’t want to go. Three…I can’t think of a third, but it’s absurd to think people like us would ever get near something as high tech and expensive as a space vessel. I mean, imagine how many NASA people we’d have to blow to see a picture of a ship.”

Carlo laughed. “NASA guys aren’t my type.”

“Mine either.” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “You’ll be okay.”

The sorrow weighed down on him again. “Will I?”

“Of course. Ryan was a controlling bastard, a cheating controlling bastard. You need to find someone who makes you laugh, not someone who makes you worry that you’re doing or saying the wrong thing.”

Ryan could be controlling. He demanded to know where Carlo was at all times and called him every fifteen minutes if he went outside the apartment. But Carlo had believed he was that way because he cared, because he worried. The cheating…It had come as a shock, and it flipped Carlo’s world. Was he blind? Naive?

“Don’t think about him.” Grace bumped his shoulder again. “You want another beer?”

“I think I’ve had enough. More than enough.”

“Yeah? No one will be upset if you have another.”

“No?”

“No. You’re living with me now—”

“I’m sleeping on your couch.”

“Yes, you’re living with me. And I say you’re allowed to have another beer.”

Carlo sighed. He had nowhere he needed to be tomorrow, nothing to do, so why not?

* * * *

Zenon Scoreceds Qhainqons steered the spaceship toward the spot in the lush vegetation they’d agreed upon. Agreed. He glanced at Brox Scoreceds Cruul on his right, then at Anek Scoreceds Dhaankrors. They’d listed several locations and then they’d blindly drawn one.

Pontybridge was a settlement like any other. He didn’t know if it truly was since he’d never been to Earth before. They’d spent a year perfecting the translation chip and Ghurva Scoreceds Vracets, their linguist, had told them what areas to scout.