Starstruck

Chapter 6a: Singularities (part 1)

CHAPTER 6

Singularities (part 1)

Saturday should have been busy enough to keep my mind off of Rigel. But mowing the lawn--I'd taken that over a couple years ago, since Uncle Louie's health wasn't great--only occupied my body, not my mind. As I maneuvered around Aunt Theresa's rose beds in our tiny back yard, my thoughts kept coming back to the same questions, the same hopes, the same fears.

Taekwondo class was better, since I really did have to pay attention there. Taekwondo had been my aunt's idea, suggested by Master Parker's wife, who happened to be in the church choir with Aunt Theresa. She'd convinced her that martial arts would improve my coordination and my confidence, but I hadn't seen a big change so far. Of course, I'd only started last spring.

Today was the first time I'd attended since school started, so I had a little catching up to do if I wanted to test for my green belt next month. Master Parker liked us to come at least twice a week and I'd slacked off.

As I went through my forms and kicking combinations, though, I was surprised at how well I remembered everything, how strong and in control I felt. The instructor was surprised, too.

"Have you been practicing at home, Marsha?" he asked. "I usually discourage that, but--"

"No, sir," I answered truthfully.

"Well, I have to say, your back spinning kick has improved two hundred per cent since last week. Whatever you're doing differently, keep doing it."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

I'd heard about people being "in the zone," but couldn't remember experiencing it myself. Until today. I liked it.

I walked home, pumped from my success. For once, I hadn't felt awkward or out of place in taekwondo. It was almost like the amazingness from the night before had carried over into today-or maybe it had just boosted my confidence enough to make a difference.

Still jazzed when I got home, I tried sharing my triumph with Aunt Theresa, but she immediately changed the subject. Deflated, I listened to the list of chores she still wanted me to do over the weekend. For someone who'd pushed me to take taekwondo, she never wanted to hear anything about it. She could be a real downer sometimes.

The next day started like any other Sunday, scrambling to get to church on time for Aunt Theresa's choir warm-up. Sitting with Uncle Louie in the sanctuary before the service, I squinted up at the board listing today's hymns. It looked a little fuzzy, so I took my glasses off and polished them on the hem of my skirt.

As I put them back on, I felt a not-quite-physical pull off to my right and turned to see Rigel and his parents walking up the far aisle. They didn't seem to have noticed me, and I didn't quite have the nerve to attract their attention. Everyone in the church had known me since I was little, and I definitely didn't want them all gossiping about how Marsha was chasing after the new boy in town.

So I contented myself with watching Rigel from behind as he and his folks sat down about three rows ahead and off to the right. I wondered if this was their first visit here, or if I just hadn't noticed them before, since I hadn't met Rigel yet last Sunday. Somehow, I couldn't imagine being in the same room, even at this distance, without being acutely aware of him.

The choir started filing in. Before Aunt Theresa could catch me staring at Rigel, I quickly directed my eyes back to the list of hymns on the front wall. It was still fuzzy. Which meant I probably needed new glasses, which was guaranteed to irritate my aunt even more than usual.

"Hey, isn't that the new quarterback and his family?" Uncle Louie suddenly asked, pointing.

Wow, no wonder he sold so few cars. Not terribly quick, Uncle Louie.

"I think so," I whispered back, still trying not to look.

"Do you think I should apologize after church? For, well--"

I shook my head emphatically. The last thing I wanted was him reminding the Stuarts of his lapse Friday night. Especially in front of Aunt Theresa. I so did not want to witness another of their arguments over his drinking and his buddies--in church of all places. Nor did I want anyone else . . . okay, someone in particular . . . seeing that.

"They seemed really happy to drive me. I'm sure they didn't mind a bit."

He looked relieved. "Oh. Well, good. Good." I'm sure he didn't want to remind anyone about Friday night, either. Especially Aunt Theresa.

Even so, when I saw the Stuarts coming our way after church, I held my breath. But Uncle Louie didn't say anything at all as Rigel's parents introduced themselves to my aunt.

While the adults exchanged a very brief sentence or two, Rigel gave me a little smile that made my heart beat faster. Had he noticed how much better my skin was looking? Or did boys even think about stuff like that?

"Are you having a good weekend?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, I had a really good--" I broke off, since telling him about yesterday's stellar taekwondo class would take too much explanation, plus I didn't want him to think I was a jock or anything. "I mean, um, the weather's been nice. Not quite so hot. You?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

He looked like he was going to say more, but just then my aunt put a hand on my arm. No tingle there, definitely.

"Let's go, Marsha. You still have homework to do today." She said a polite--not warm--goodbye to the Stuarts, while the look she gave Rigel was almost suspicious.

I waited until we were out on the sidewalk and well out of their earshot to ask, "Is something wrong, Aunt Theresa?"

She sniffed. "No. But you'd do best not to get too friendly with this new boy before you know more about him--and his family. They did just move to town last month."

Uncle Louie laughed. "Oh, come on, Theresa, they're hardly gypsies. Rigel is the quarterback of the football team. And I heard that Mrs. Stuart is a doctor over at Mercy General."

My aunt slanted a glance down at me, one eyebrow raised. "Even so."

"You mean you think he's--they're--too good for me?" I flared, stung. "Is that what you mean?"

She just primmed up her lips. "Our family has been in Jewel for four generations, Marsha. We're as good as anyone. I just don't want to see you hurt."

So that was what she'd meant, though she wouldn't come out and say it. I fumed all the way home, my anger partly fueled by a worry she was right.

**If you enjoyed this, please vote for it and share it with your friends!

** Sign up for my newsletter at http://smarturl.it/BrendaNewsletter for a FREE Starstruck short story! The complete ebook of STARSTRUCK is available FREE at all major online retailers! See http://starstruckseries.com for download info! :)