Starcrossed

Chapter 15b: Cinnwund Rioga (part 2)

Chapter 15 (part 2)

Cinnwund Rioga (KIN-wund ree-OH-gah): Royal Destiny

"Hello." I tried to hide my discomfort, glad Rigel was still beside me.

The three exchanged glances with each other and one of the women actually giggled. Finally, the man spoke. "So very, very pleased to make your acquaintance, your—" He broke off when Mr. Stuart frowned and shook his head. "That is, um, I'm Girard Neeson. Allow me to present my wife, Brenna, and her sister, Doreen Gilley. We've known Rigel and his family since . . . well, for years."

Sixty years? Seventy? Just as well he hadn't said, since several of our classmates were within earshot.

"Marsha Truitt," I said, extending my hand to each of them in turn. I felt the usual faint tingle from each of them, nothing like what I got from Rigel, or even Sean.

They were all very attractive, of course, and looked to be in their early thirties, though they could be a hundred, for all I knew. Somehow, given that giggle, I doubted it.

"Marsha?" Doreen—the giggler—echoed. "Is that—?"

"My friends call me M for short." Hadn't the fact that I'd been raised under another name circulated along with the news of my existence?

"How very . . . informal." Girard looked faintly scandalized. "We won't keep you. I'm sure there are others, ah, that is, it's been an honor, er—"

"It was nice meeting you," I said firmly before he could add anything that would be difficult to explain if overheard. With another carefully polite smile, I turned away to find Rigel hovering, ready to whisk me into the living room, where most of the guests were.

"Thanks," I murmured. He squeezed my arm in response and the awkwardness of the moment faded at the simple pleasure of his touch.

A moment later we were surrounded by friends from school, including the whole football team except, not surprisingly, Bryce Farmer. He had already resented Rigel for taking over Bryce's quarterback spot, but after Rigel and I accidentally zapped him senseless—something he totally deserved, by the way—he and Rigel barely tolerated each other.

Kind of like me and Trina who, unfortunately, was here, along with most of the cheerleading squad, though I didn't see Molly. Or Sean. Did they maybe think it would be awkward to come, after Wednesday's incident? If Sean could just bring himself to apologize to Rigel . . . but I wasn't sure he was up for that.

Allister didn't seem to be here either, though I assumed Rigel would have told me if he'd left town.

"Oh, hi, Marsha," Trina greeted me with a syrupy, insincere smile. "You made it. Not quite a perfect party after all, but one can't have everything." Then, to Rigel, with a more genuine—though still syrupy—smile, "I just love your house, Rigel! It's like it was made to entertain. You so need to have more parties."

"I'll mention it to my parents," he said, then immediately turned to talk to a couple of football buddies, leaving Trina pouting. The past week or two she'd mostly flirted with Sean, but in his absence she'd been willing to revert to Rigel.

Between Allister's absence and the Stuarts keeping the Neesons away from me, I was able to relax and enjoy myself for most of the evening—until Rigel started opening presents. He saved mine for last, and I held my breath as he unwrapped it. Would he laugh?

"Wow, M, this is really special," he said, gazing at the crystal sun catcher etched with the constellation Orion. "Thank you so much." He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss.

His mother—who always looked way too gorgeous to be somebody's mom—came forward. I half expected her to frown about the kiss, but she was smiling as she examined the ornament. "Look, Rigel is blue, so it stands out." She pointed at Orion's left foot—the star Rigel. "What a thoughtful gift."

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was still holding. Maybe it hadn't been a dumb idea after all.

People started to drift back to the buffet table and Rigel threw an arm around my shoulders. "Why were you worried?" he whispered. "You should have known I'd love it. I'm going to hang it right over my bed, where the morning sun will catch it. Then I'll wake up every morning thinking of you—though I do that anyway."

A wonderful rush of warmth went through me, partly from his words and partly from the love I could feel radiating from him. I knew he could feel the same from me. Everything was going to be fine. I was sure of it.

By nine-thirty, people started to leave. I knew some of them—especially the cheerleaders and most of the football players—were going to a later party at Nicole Adams's house. From ten feet away, I could clearly hear Bri and Deb whispering, discussing whether they could convince Bri's dad they were getting a ride home from another parent and really go to Nicole's party. The only problem with that plan, apparently, was me.

"You know she won't go," I overheard Bri say. "Even if her aunt would let her stay out that late, she never goes anywhere without Rigel."

Sometimes my enhanced senses weren't exactly a benefit. I turned away so Bri wouldn't notice my hurt—just in time to see Allister Adair enter the room, followed by all of the O'Garas.

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