My shift was dragging, but that was nothing new. The same thing - serve coffee, smile, be polite, the customer is always right even when they’re absolutely the stupidest person you’ve ever met - day in and day out was never not boring. But at least I had something to look forward to in four hours and thirty-four minutes. Lucie and I were going to catch the bus to the other side of town and try to find her a half decent dress for homecoming at the thrift store.
And I tried really hard not to be bitter that I had never attended homecoming, not once. And I still wouldn’t, even though it was my last chance to do it this year. Dresses, especially the nice ones, at the thrift store usually ran anywhere from forty to eighty dollars, and money like that wasn’t easy to save when you were struggling to feed yourself and your sister as it was. All that to say, only one of us could get a dress, and it wasn’t going to be me because I refused to let Lucie miss out on opportunities because our mother was MIA and a waste of space, anyways. Maybe if Marty Brannon had been a normal mom, things could be different.
Finally, at seven, my shift ended and I slung my apron around a hook in the staff room before heading out. The breeze outside blew around the coffee smell still clinging to my clothes as I walked. Lucie was supposed to meet me at the bus stop near the corner of First and Main and I was relieved to see her already there, dressed in a pink blouse and jean skirt, because it meant I wouldn’t have to chase her down at her friend’s house.
“Hey,” I said.
Lucie smiled. “Quicker than I expected. I thought I was going to have to make the bus driver wait. Again.”
I elbowed her lightly in the side. “That happened one time.”
“Try six.”
The thrift store wasn’t overly busy, but that wasn’t surprising given it was a Thursday evening. The dress racks were filled with poofy, frilly dresses that definitely were not worth what they were priced at and looked like they’d been spat straight out of the eighties. Lucie and I took our time thumbing through them, though, because you could always take off the tulle and sewn-on flowers. When nothing caught Lucie’s eye, I pointed out a red one we’d laughed at.
“I could fix that one up,” I suggested, lifting the layers of tulle to show the silky fabric underneath. I smiled, “Without all the tulle it might be tolerable.”
Lucie made a thoughtful face. “I see potential. Let’s do it.”
We wandered around the store a little bit more and Lucie found herself some clean-looking white heels and a pretty hair clip that I would definitely need to disinfect before it went anywhere near her head. But all in all, not a bad trip, even if the hydro bill might not get paid this month.
I studied while Lucie lay on our shared mattress, humming under her breath while she sketched. I let out a deep breath. This right here was my peace, my happy place. Because I knew Lucie was happy, if not at least contented, with a belly full of macaroni and cheese, and looking like she had not a worry in the world besides getting the posing right on her fashion model before she drew on whatever outfit she was imagining.
By the time I climbed into bed beside my little sister, she was sound asleep, her sketchbook on the floor beside her. I burrowed under the covers and counted the bricks I could see out our window until I fell asleep.
***
I’d never had many friends, if any, besides Lucie. I didn’t mind it so much because it helped me keep focused on the important things. Friends were a distraction. Friends would want to hang out after school and on weekends when I worked and text me on a phone I didn’t have. Friends would want to come over to my house, but I lived in a second-story bachelor apartment with my little sister with a mattress on the floor with no internet or parents to speak of. So it was better this way, that I had none.
It was Friday morning, second period English, when the buzzer came on and the secretary asked Mr. Hoggle to Please send down Lenora Brannon. She’s being excused. And that was strange enough I turned to the girl I sat beside with wide eyes. Hers matched. I’d never been called out of class and never talked about my parents, and to her, here they were, taking me out of class when school had barely started. It made me wish, for a moment, that I had someone who knew just how weird this was.
I made my way downstairs slowly. Who would pull me out of school? No one really had the right to. It made no sense and apprehension hung heavy on my shoulders, burrowing a pit in my stomach.
When I arrived in the office, the secretary, Mrs. Colewell, smiled sweetly at me out of her wrinkled face. “You feel better, all right, dear?”
I squinted at her, not sure I’d heard right. Feel better? “What -”
“Lenora,” a man’s voice said and I spun. He was a tall man, with a head of thick, slicked back brown hair and sunglasses over his eyes, dressed in a suit. “Come on.”
“Who are you?” I demanded. I looked over to Mrs. Colewell, eyes wild with sudden panic. “Who is this?”
Mrs. Colewell’s expression turned troubled. “He’s your father, isn’t he?”
“Lenora -” he began.
“I have never met this man in my life,” I told her, watching the man out of the corner of my eye.
“Lenora,” he said again, louder. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”
“You are,” I retorted.
“My name is Agent Rollins,” he presented a shiny badge from the inside of his suit coat. “I’ve been sent here on official government business to speak to you.”
And all I could think was No. No no no no no. He was with CPS, they’d found out there was no one responsible for Lucie except for me, and they were going to take her away, going to split us apart. I tried to take a breath through the fog of panic clouding my brain. “Is this -” I began hesitantly. “Is this about Lucie?”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “No. If you step outside with me, I’ll explain why I’m here.”
And maybe I was stupid to follow him, if Mrs. Colewell’s expression was anything to go off of, but I followed him out into the foyer of the school where it was so quiet our steps echoed. I felt a little safer knowing that if he tried to kidnap me, there were cameras overhead to observe it.
“Explain.” I demanded.
“I work for the Department of Defense.”
“And that’s important to me right now, why?” I was still anxious, worrying about Lucie.
He sighed, and then began hesitantly, “There is a threat…we have kept quiet so far the devastation that this…threat has inflicted upon many states.”
This really was not my problem. “What? Kept quiet how? If this is such a threat that it has devastated some states, why is it being kept quiet? Why are you telling me? Why not tell everyone, to help keep them safe?”
“The threat is some form of alien invasion.”
I laughed. “You can’t be serious right now. Is this a prank?”
“Someone who calls themselves the Dark One is doing this, and we suspect that whoever it is, is at least partially genetically similar to other aliens we agreed to let assimilate on Earth in the forties. Blood tests have shown you have even the tiniest amount of alien DNA in you, and that’s why I’m here.”
“What, you think it’s me?”
“Not at all,” he disagreed. “With no other options, the Department of Defense has decided the best way to fight this threat is fighting fire with fire. Anyone with foreign DNA, such as yourself, is being recruited. This Dark One has abilities we have never seen before in any alien race, and we figure that perhaps people like you may share some similar abilities that will be able to help us.”
I couldn’t help the hysterical giggle that came out of me. “You’re crazy,” I laughed.
“This is not a laughing matter, Miss Brannon.”
Miss Brannon. Was he for real? I laughed harder.
“Miss Brannon, I am here to extend the offer to join the…resistance, so to speak, of your own volition. If things become more serious, there will be no choice in the matter any more, and you will be forced.”
He was out of his mind if he thought I was going to up and leave and go with him to who knows where. I didn’t trust him at all, and more than any of that, there was Lucie. “No,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere. I have responsibilities.”
He nodded. “Thank you for your time, Miss Brannon. This is classified information, so I will kindly ask you not to share it with anyone.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said.
And then he turned and walked out the front door, and I thought I’d never see him again. That was fine, more than fine, because that meant he would never see Lucie, whoever the hell he really was, because there was no way he was really an agent from the Department of Defense.
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