Dangerous Days of Daniel X

and it wasn’t my own voice. I don’t want to do this anymore. I hate this school.

I stopped suddenly, looking around to see whose thoughts I’d just intercepted.

I spotted a tall, black-haired girl trying to lift a bulky backpack while also balancing a clarinet case. She turned around and I saw her face.

What felt like an invisible wall toppled over on me. She was really cute. Her eyes were amazing. So why was she so sad?

“Hi,” I said, stepping in her direction. “Sorry to bother you. Uhmm, could you tell me where the library is?”

“No idea,” she said quietly as she averted her eyes from mine. “I’m new here.”

I shrugged. “So am I. Say, could I give you a hand with those books? I’m Daniel. Not that you asked.”

She actually smiled, a half smile anyway. “I’m Phoebe Cook,” she said. Those eyes of hers were deep blue, flecked with silver. Gorgeous-and friendly. “So do you have a last name too, Daniel?”

I paused. Of course, I had a fake last name, but it never really feels like me somehow. It felt a little strange to say it to someone as genuine as Phoebe.

“Daniel Hopper.”

“Nice to meet you, Daniel Hopper. I actually could use some help. Just to get my locker back open,” Phoebe said. “Frankly, I don’t know if I can lug all these books home.”

I slid her bag off the floor and onto my shoulder.

“You’re in luck,” I said. “Lugging is one of my better talents.”

She smiled again. “I thought you were looking for the library, Daniel.”

She had me there. “I got a better offer, I guess.”

“I guess you did. Well, let’s see how you lug.”

Chapter 21

I WALKED PHOEBE all the way home, and I enjoyed every second of it. She lived on South Cedar, about ten blocks from the high school. Her father was a computer salesman, and she told me they moved around a lot.

“Too much,” said Phoebe with a wistful look that got to me. One of the really nice things about her-she was practically unconscious about how pretty she was. I completely understood her feeling about moving.

“My family moves a lot too,” I said. “They’re kind of free spirits.” Definitely.

Daniel is gorgeous! I wonder if he would maybe ask me out? she thought as we stopped in front of her house. It’s okay, Daniel. Go for it, I heard Phoebe thinking. Wishing… encouraging.

I smiled, and felt a little light-headed, actually. News flash: I had never had a date with a human girl. So I’d never actually asked a girl out before. But Phoebe seemed so regular and nice, plus I’d just read her mind and she was interested in me. Still, I was afraid.

“Why don’t we go to a movie, or maybe explore Glendale sometime?” I finally blurted out. Our hands grazed as I gave her back her bag.

“Okay,” Phoebe said. “The movies, whatever. That’d be great. Good. You know what I mean.”

She started up the stairs of her house, then stopped and turned back. Her blue eyes settled on me.

“Were you really looking for the library?” she asked.

I smiled. “Nope, I was looking for you.”

“Good answer,” she said, then disappeared inside.

And no, I didn’t create Phoebe Cook, in case you’re one of those people who like to look ahead in a story.

Chapter 22

I CAME THROUGH the front door of my rental house, checked everywhere for trouble, then collapsed on the couch. I knew high school was going to be a change of pace, maybe challenging, maybe anxiety producing, but I wasn’t expecting boring-everything except Phoebe Cook, anyway.

After a while, I managed to peel myself up to start dinner. I didn’t want to go too crazy, so I settled on a rosemary-crusted rack of lamb with truffle-spiked potato puree. As I cooked, I listened to a concerto by a classical guitarist named Remi Boucher. The guy is not of this world, and I wondered if he was maybe another alien.

I’ve had the same thought about Tiger Woods, Bono, and, of course, Sanjaya Malakar.

After dinner I put on a fire and lay in front of it reading Water for Elephants. Ten minutes later, I put the book down, unable to concentrate the way I usually can.

I thought about Phoebe Cook.

I thought about Dana, my dream girlfriend.

Should I feel guilty? I didn’t think so. I hadn’t even kissed Phoebe. Yet.

I finally got up and made myself a pot of coffee. Then I cracked my knuckles and opened my laptop. The same one I’d found near the house where my parents were killed. Nothing better to get your mind off girls than thinking about aliens.

I brought up Ergent Seth’s file and read it over again.

Alien: Ergent Seth, Number 6

Human Alias(es): ? Changes names on an as-needed basis, often hourly.

Area of Infestation: LA and Orange County, California. Central City, East LA. Arizona. Nevada. Mexico. South and Central America. And still branching out.

Illegal Activities: Drug dealing, mass murder, abductions, torture, mind control and possession. Did we mention MASS MURDER?

Planet of Origin: Gorto 4.

Alien Species: Vermgypian (see footnote).

Current Danger Level: Extremely high. Seth’s goal is to de-populate Earth, then colonize it with his species. This violates every moral and ethical code extant.

Special Abilities: Telepathy, extraterrestrial Level 7 speed, Level 7 strength, shape-shifting, cunning, general viciousness.

The Level 7 strength concerned me. I was maybe a 3 on my best day. The slug in Portland had been a 4. I read the footnote next. Vermgypians were beyond strange. No one knew what they looked like beneath their demonic-appearing, armored containment suits. They were best known for the lethal nerve gas they emitted. If you were exposed, your cells started to melt. Then you rotted from the inside out. It was an extremely painful way to die.

Extremely.

Chapter 23

I LIKE THIS PLANET just the way it is, thank you very much-well, except for a few problems like poverty, war, polluted drinking water, and global warming-but I knew that Ergent Seth was on his way to making those crises seem like child’s play.

It was time to check out LA, and hopefully do some surveillance. In particular, I wanted to see the areas where Number 6 did his nastiest scut work, usually late at night.

“You sure you want me to drop you off here, mate?” the cabdriver said as we stopped at the corner of Sixth and San Pedro. Since I like to chat up a storm, I’d found out the cabby’s name was Clive. He was a good-looking Brit who’d come to LA to-surprise, surprise-become a movie star.