Jelly Cooper: Alien

I’m awake. Wide awake. I’ve been awake for five hours, staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, thinking about everything and nothing and what’s real and what’s not.

I push back the bedding and drag on my clothes. I go to the bathroom and squeeze toothpaste onto the toothbrush and raise it to my mouth and move it up and down and think that there’s no point cleaning teeth that will soon be rotting in the ground. I swill my mouth and spit.

I have no idea what to do, but before I give up on my sanity, and my life, there are a couple of things I want to try.

As the sun wakes, I let myself out of the house and set off for school.

The gates are locked, so I decide to climb over them. What the hell; I’m feeling reckless.

Ten minutes later, red in the face and shaking after almost falling twice, I stand at the edge of the track, staring into the distance and chewing the inside of my cheek.

This is such a stupid idea. Am I really going to let a string of spooky dreams and nightmares rule my reality.

I guess I am.

I think about running really fast. I stand there, like a plank, and just think about running. Feet in trainers, pounding the track, for miles and miles. I feel the rhythm in my head and in my blood and in my bones. I think of the beat until there is nothing else and then I fold into the starting position.

The lane stretches out in front of me.

So the way I see it, if I focus hard enough, my brain will tell my body how to run fast, like yesterday when I watched Trishia. Everything has to be in tune.

I close my eyes and deepen my breathing. I feel the muscles bunched in my legs. The morning grass is wet beneath my fingers and it soaks the knee of my leggings. My white breath puffs into the early morning air and drifts away.

One…

Breathe in.

Two…

Breathe out.

Three…

Breathe in…

Four…

Breathe out.

Five…

Breathe in…

Six…

…GO!

I spring out of the hunched starting position, tuck my head down and go for it. Focused on my racing heartbeat, my legs pump in tune with my body’s natural rhythm, pushing me faster and faster. I will myself to gather more speed. The blood courses through my veins; I feel it surge. My legs answer and I shoot forward with a spurt.

The pounding of my feet against the grass track is the only noise. I focus on the sound, willing the rhythm to quicken. Shutting out of my mind everything except the movement of my body, I run, faster and faster, my legs settling into the stride. I race on, round and round and round the track, building speed lap on lap. My muscles don’t burn and cramp; they tingle and sing. They want more, so I run on and on and on until there’s hardly any breath left in me.

I jog to a halt and do the only thing that I can: I throw back my head and scream.

It’s true. It’s all true. I’m an alien and a monster is coming to kill me.

I need Agatha and I need Humphrey.

Spinning, I run straight into the rock-hard chest of Luke Jenson. Balance lost, I grab at his fleece. Luke wraps his arms around me and buries my face in his chest. Dear God!

“Whoa there. Where’s the fire?”

I panic. I can’t help it. He’s here and I’m a mess and he’s making me feel all weird and I look a mess and…

I freak out and struggle. “Let me go. Let me GO!”

Shocked, Luke unlocks his arms from around my waist and steps backwards. Balance never has been a strong point of mine, new-found athleticism or not. I trip over my feet and fall, landing on the ground with a very undignified ‘thud’.

I glare at Luke. “What the hell? What are you doing, creeping up on me like that?”

Splayed on the ground, cheeks pink from the run and hair sticking up at all angles, I am very aware of the picture I present.

He laughs.

“Don’t you laugh at me, you…you…pig!”

I scramble to my feet and brush myself down. Luke holds up his hands, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Sorry, I give up. It was all my fault. I forced you to turn around and run straight into me. No need to name call.” He pretends to look hurt. “Anyway, I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I come here every morning to run. I’ve usually got the place to myself.” He stops and rubs his chin, looking around the field. “I saw you running on the track,” he says, eyeing me carefully. “You should be on the team.”

“No thank you.”

Too fast. Too late, I realise my mistake.

“Why not?”

I shrug, staying tight-lipped.

Luke stares at me for real. “I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”

I sigh. “Like what?”

“I was just thinking that it would have been a struggle to beat you out there this morning and I can beat anyone in this school. Don’t you think that’s a little bit strange?”

Snagging my bottom lip between my teeth, I wrack my brains for something smart to say. Something that will steer him away from my sudden talent for track.

“It’s my, um, style,” I blurt. “It makes me look like I’m moving faster than I actually am.”

Luke’s mouth smiles at me, but his eyes don’t and it makes me shiver. He always has this effect on me. He’s the only person in the world that has this effect on me.

He shakes his head and stops pretending to smile. “You were moving out there. Really moving.”

I have got to do something about this and I have got to do it now. I raise my shoulder and inject some venom into my voice. “So what if I was?” I sneer. “It’s none of your business. So I can run fast. Big deal. It doesn’t mean that I want to be on the team, sharing a changing room with you lot of egomaniacs. You’re as bad as the pompom brigade. IQs of amoebas and an inability to walk past a shop window without checking out your reflection. Be a part of that? Thanks, but no. I’d rather eat my own head.”

We stare at each other in silence. I know I’ve gone too far. The look on Luke’s face tells me that. Dark, brooding, stern…no, they’re not the words to describe it. Mad. That’s a much better word for the look on his face. Yup. Mad as hell. Oopsy.

He takes a step closer and grabs me by the shoulders. It hurts, but instead of standing up to him I stare at the ground like a meek little girl. He’s having that effect on me again. I’m embarrassed, confused and frightened and all I can think of is how good he smells.

I need locking up.

Luke hooks a finger underneath my chin and forces my head up. Our eyes clash and my legs start to tremble. I feel…odd.

“Don’t insult me again, Jelly.”

His fingers dig deeper into my shoulders. I suck in my breath, but Luke either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“You don’t know anything about me and I don’t like being insulted by a stranger.”

“I…um –

He lets go and walks away.

“I’m sorry.”

Too late. Luke runs towards the track and my apology is spoken to the morning air.

I stare after him.

That could have gone better.

I’ve been waiting at the end of Willow Road for Humphrey for eight minutes and I’m bad tempered and bursting with it by the time he finally comes around the corner.

“Humphrey. You’re late.”

“Yeah.”

“For God’s sake Humphrey,” I explode, “don’t you take anything seriously?”

As you can see, my mood has not improved since the run-in with golden boy.

Humphrey blinks at me. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” I snap. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Why would you say that?”

Humphrey raises his eyebrows.

“Everything,” I wail. “Things are happening too fast. I need to speak to you and Agatha.”

“Well, Jel, we’re kind of on our way to school,” says Humphrey, doing his really annoying ‘I’m talking to a dummy’ thing. “It’ll have to be tonight.”

Not soon enough. The words scream inside my head and I know that I should listen. The voice of impending doom has spoken and I know now that I can’t ignore it. Well, I can, but it will most likely end in my bloody death.

“No good. It has to be now.”

Humphrey appraises me steadily with his infamous steady appraisal technique. It’s a thing he’s specially practiced to unnerve me. He’s very good at it and I fidget.

“What about Agatha?” he asks.

Ah, now Agatha may be an issue.

“You’re asking Agatha to miss school?”

It’s incredible how quickly Humphrey can make me feel like a selfish git. I try to keep my composure and think about what I’m doing, but you know me: I just go ahead and jump in with both feet.

“Look Humphrey,” I snap, “supposed friend. I need your help. Stuff is happening. Like really weird stuff. Life changing stuff,” I add for emphasis. “Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there and be an arse?”

Humphrey takes a step away. “I say again: what’s the matter with you?”

It dawns on me that I’m acting like a lunatic. I’m angry with my oldest, closest, friend over nothing. He’s looking out for me, in his own annoying way, and I’m going nuclear on him.

I blame Luke.

“Sorry.”

We stare at each other. I break the silence first. “So, um, turns out I’m an alien.”

Humphrey purses his lips. “Thought so.”

I stamp my foot. “I’m not kidding Humphrey.”

He gently grabs my shoulders. “Neither am I.”

I don’t know why there’s a lump the size of a cream egg in my throat, I really don’t. I swallow it away, wipe my eyes and wipe them some more. For some reason, I can’t seem to stop crying. What an idiot!

“I think I’m going to die soon.”

Well, that popped out without telling me first.

Humphrey squeezes my shoulders.

“Go get Agatha.”

“Meet me at the bus stop on Mill Street,” I whisper, trying to hold it together. “Don’t leave, OK? Not until I’m back.”

He cups my face in his hand. “Go. Get. Agatha.”

I reach up on tip toes and kiss his cheek.

“I l…

““Go. Get. Agatha.”

With a final look at his face, I spin and race off.

I pray to God I can reach her before school starts.