Page 14

Jennette

Ugh.

Colin McFarland might have played one of the sexiest aliens ever on Nebula Odyssey , but I’m sick of the man.

He’s monopolized the panel, talking over scientists who have interesting information that pertains to the fictional aliens being discussed.

I love that sort of thing, people with technical expertise offering it to paths of possibility, showing others how something like this could come to pass, like a dome city on a greenhouse planet or a city in the clouds populated by bird people.

I’ve been incredibly conscious of Seeker beside me.

And something about his proximity resonates as…

unusual. It’s not the fact that I have a crush on him, either.

But he’s not warm. Not in the way I expect.

And it goes along with the surprising stillness of his expression.

I don’t understand why my brain is obsessing over little inconsistencies with someone I like so much.

When the talk finally concludes, I navigate to the front of the room, intending to compliment the biologist who offered some truly fascinating and memorable theories regarding potential paths for evolution.

She might get a kick out of Tad’s game, actually.

But before I can say a word, Colin McFarland strides around the table with a huge smile.

“You must be here for me,” he declares.

“What?” Why does he think that?

I try to signal Dr. Patel but she’s already packing up her belongings. She doesn’t realize that I came to tell her that her portion of the presentation was one of the most technically impressive and creative takes on the potential for alien life that I’ve ever seen.

“No, I—”

“Don’t be shy, honey. Normally, I charge twenty bucks for photos, but I’ll let you take a selfie with me for free. Come here.” He wraps a meaty arm around my shoulders, dragging me against his side.

Wow. Colin smells. Not in a good way, either.

It’s a fermented cocktail of booze and old sweat, with just a whisper of baby wipes, as if he made a half-hearted attempt to swipe his pits before he showed up.

He practices a few smiles before setting on a particular shit-eating grin and tilts his head toward mine.

Please, someone save me.

I should elbow him in the side and get him to let go of me, but I freeze up in tense situations, and I loathe being stared at.

If I make an issue of this, Colin’s fans will come for me on social media.

I can imagine the vitriol now. As a weirdo in high school who only had a few close friends, I have powerful, paralyzing memories of how it feels to be hated online.

I endured some social media attacks and ostracism, and I’m not eager to revisit that portion of the program.

Reluctantly, I get my phone out. Dr. Patel is gone, off to her next panel or an ice-cold lemonade. I’m so disappointed that I could cry.

Suddenly Seeker is next to me. “Are you all right?”

Colin answers for me. “She’s great. Getting some one-on-one time with her idol, right? How many people will get this lucky today?” He drops his voice. “Play your cards right and you could get my spare room key too. How’s that sound?”

My right hand curls into a fist. I can’t bring myself to tell Colin off, banshee-shrieking at top volume, but I don’t want this photo.

Not even slightly. I hold out a hand to Seeker, though I’m not even sure what I’m trying to do.

He pulls me away from Colin and I let out a breath.

His support makes me a little braver. Just enough.

I take a breath and protest. “That’s enough. Don’t be gross.”

People who love Nebula Odyssey would be so disappointed to learn how disgusting McFarland is, quite unlike the smooth-talking alien charmer, Darak Sai.

Without waiting for a reply, I march out of the building while the rest of the group hurries after me.

I feel a little shaky because I hate conflict, but sometimes speaking up is necessary.

Jaz reaches me first. “Are you okay? That looked—”

“Did he just sexually harass you?” Poppy demands.

I hesitate. “A little bit?”

“There’s no such thing as just ‘a little bit,’” Tad says angrily.

“You have to report him,” Poppy says.

Much as I don’t want to make a big deal of this, she’s right.

If he did that to me with fifty people looking on, how does he behave when he’s alone with a starstruck fan?

My stomach roils, but I’m committed. Space Con has signs posted about what we should do if we experience something that makes us uncomfortable, so I follow the procedure and find a volunteer in a yellow polo shirt.

Her name tag reads, Hi! I’m Sarah, and I’m here to help.

“I need to file a report,” I say softly.

She escorts me to the small tent set up for handling such issues.

The day is heating up, and people swarm around outside, heading off to have fun.

I hate that I’m holding up the group and spending more time on that asshole, but it has to be done.

It takes almost an hour to complete the process.

She’s extremely supportive and documents everything.

Sarah wears a grim expression. “We won’t invite him back,” she promises. “And I’m so sorry he did this. We’re getting in touch with his management and canceling the rest of his appearances here.”

“Wow.” I honestly didn’t expect such swift action. “Thank you.”

“I hope this didn’t ruin your experience at Space Con.”

“Not at all. I appreciate how you’re handling this.”

The others are all outside, waiting. Seeker seems to have worn a track pacing.

He volunteered to come inside with me, but I opted to face it on my own.

And I feel…stronger. That’s the only word.

Even if something leaks and I end up being reviled on social media with people saying I’m nowhere near cute enough for Colin to creep on me, I don’t care.

“You okay?” Poppy asks.

“Yeah. They’re terminating the rest of his sessions,” I say.

“Wow. That’s awesome!” Poppy punches the air as if we’ve won a major victory.

“I didn’t realize what it’s like,” Tad says in a sober tone. “I mean, you hear things, of course. But I’m a big goober, and nobody bothers me .”

“Is it customary to have such attention forced upon you?” Seeker asks.

“It happens more than it should,” Poppy admits.

Ravik has been very quiet. “I do not care for this place at all,” they finally say.

I’m not sure if they mean the tent where I made my report, the fairgrounds, or Rellows in general. Heck, Ravik might feel that way about Earth. Sometimes I do too.

“I stopped attending cons for a while because it was so bad,” Jaz says.

“It tends to be famous people now,” Poppy adds.

Since I’ve never been propositioned before, I can only nod. This was awful, and I could use a hug, but I’m not close enough to anyone here to ask. At least I don’t feel shaky anymore, and I can take comfort in knowing I did the right thing.

“Let’s move on,” I say then. “I don’t want this to ruin the rest of the day.”

“They’re selling box lunches now. Anyone else hungry?” Tad asks.

I could eat. And I don’t have a panel circled for this brick of time.

Tad forges ahead, clearing the way for the rest of us as he navigates to the parking lot where all the food trucks have set up.

It’s surprising there are so many of them, but from what I’ve read, business owners drive hundreds of miles to participate.

Only three of us get a meal, however. Jaz says she’s not hungry, and the box lunches aren’t vegan, so Ravik passes as well.

Seeker makes no explanation, so it’s just Tad, me, and Poppy tucking into the deli sandwiches.

There are also chips, fruit, and big cookies.

We luck into a picnic table nearby, recently vacated by a woman with four kids, all of whom are wearing glittery alien antennae, and two of whom are sobbing.

“I never understood why people drag little ones to this sort of thing,” Poppy says. “They won’t remember it, and it’s so much work.”

“Maybe she couldn’t get a sitter?” I suggest.

“Could be,” Jaz agrees.

Tad tilts his face toward the sky. It’s even hotter now, unsurprising since this is July.

His bald head is turning pink, and he dons the hat he had on earlier.

Seeker and Ravik remain unaltered, though Jaz doesn’t seem to notice the heat either.

She’s on her phone, sipping now and then at a bottle of water.

She’s a very dainty, delicate person, the kind who makes me feel awkward in my own skin, like I’m altogether too much.

It’s nothing she’s done, of course. Just my own insecurity.

I’m determined not to let this hiccup ruin the day.

As I finish my food, I say, “I’ve been making all the decisions. Someone else pick a panel, okay?”

“Does it have to be a panel?” Ravik asks.

“Not at all,” I say quickly.

“Well, there’s a game demo that starts in half an hour. I’d love to get a closer look. But I don’t want to force anyone…” Tad’s voice trails off.

The game must be science fiction if it’s being featured here, but to be honest, I don’t play a lot of them. There are three other things I’d rather be doing, but I don’t want to be the dissenting voice. Happily, Jaz says, “I’d like to go with you.”

“I’m out,” Poppy says.

“Probably not as good as your game,” Ravik says, startling everyone with the praise.

Somehow, before I work out exactly how, we break off into twos. Poppy is going with Ravik, though they don’t seem that interested in her company. And Seeker stays beside me, watching me with an intensity that makes me nervous and excited in the same breath.

“What’s next for us then?” he asks, as if we’ll be inseparable for the rest of the con.

Lord help me, I want that so much.