Page 121 of Stardusted

A confusing mess of embarrassment and awareness churned in my belly. Way too much churning for this early in the morning. I tugged the shirt’s bottom down as far as it would go.

Not that Sky was paying attention now. He shifted from foot to foot, rubbing the back of his neck and looking everywhere but at me.

“You have a…uh…” He pointed in the general vicinity of my stomach while squinting at the hallway ceiling. “You’re wearing a note. About agenda-setting theory.”

“What?” I looked down. Sure enough, a sticky note from last night’s study session clung to my shirt. A yellow one scrawled with half-legible media theory ramblings.

Okay, maybe he was paying a little bit of attention, after all.

Blushing even deeper, I peeled it off and managed a weak laugh. “Thanks. Study note.” I shook it in the air for some reason then gestured vaguely at the bathroom. “I’m just gonna…”

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.” He moved aside quickly.

I did a little awkward shuffle-step past him, sliding toward the bathroom door without looking directly at his face. My hallway felt so much smaller with him in it.

“I’ll be out here,” he said behind me.

I muttered something I hoped passed for human language and shut the door,leaningback against it with a dejected sigh.

It waswaytoo early for this.

And I hadn’t slept nearly enough.Those dreams…

I dragged a hand over my face, trying to chase the fragments. They felt heavy. Important. Familiar in a way that made my chest tighten. But I couldn’t for the life of me recall a thing.

Were they what Sky had implied yesterday? Were these glimpses of something I hadn’t quite remembered yet? Something I couldn’t quite summon back to my conscious mind but had been planted there…?

A creeping unease coiled beneath my ribs. Whatever they were, they were gone now, scattered like leaves in the wind by the shock of finding Sky in my hallway.

That, too, felt dreamlike. Too strange to be real.

Maybe the dreams were just stress from…that. Maybe the power of suggestion had made my subconscious stage some kind of cosmic theater production. I had enough material for it.Midterms and a possible apocalypse. Oh, and the fact that I’d kissed a literal alien yesterday.

My stomach swooped, and I bit my lip.

It had been a hell of a kiss, too. And now I was supposed to just…act like it hadn’t happened.

I stared into the mirror, unwinding my sleep-rumpled braid while studying my reflection. My shadowed eyes and still-reddened cheeks. My face trying very hard to pretend everything was normal. I braced both hands on the counter and drew in a long breath, holding it. Closing my eyes, I exhaled slowly.

I could do this. I could find my equilibrium.

My worldview had completely shifted yesterday. Which meant I had to define my new normal.

It was fine. Everything was fine. I could survive midterms. Face Sky. Untangle alien weirdness, decode impossible dreams, andstillshow up to work on time. All that. I could handle it.

No pressure.

None at all.

I buried my face in my hands and wheezed a laugh.

Somuch pressure.

I felt moderately betterafter a pep talk beneath scalding-hot water. It was my second shower in twenty-four hours, but hey, I was now extra clean. I did my best thinking under the spray.

By the time I’d dried off, I’d moved through panic, disbelief, and some more panic, and I’d mostly arrived at anxiety-laced acceptance. Not that I had much of a choice. I had alien scribbles on my palm and an intimate understanding of just how not alone we were in the universe.

First things first. Sky was here. And together, we needed to come up with some semblance of a plan. I’d feel much better with a plan.