black blazer. It’d been one of the outfits hanging on a display in the store. Chev had said she’d look perfect in it. It wasn’t bad.
Turning back and forth in the full-length mirror attached to the bathroom door, Venus decided she looked adorable. Zaren had also bought scrunchies and barrettes. Since her hair hung to her waist, she was grateful for them. Venus made a braid and wrapped a maroon-colored lace scrunchie around the end.
Finished, she picked up a small black purse, which she’d filled with cherry-flavored lip gloss, a couple of pens and another scrunchie, and hurried to the living room, where she knew the guys were waiting.
“I’m ready.”
“You look beautiful, Venus,” Dervinias said.
“Yes, you do,” Zaren agreed.
“We need to go if we don’t want to be late.”
Once outside, Venus snuggled deeper into her coat. Her body longed to really inhale, take a big, deep breath, but she resisted, knowing her lungs couldn’t take it. Instead she studied the neighborhood—all of the houses crammed together in their neat little rows. Somewhere there was a fire. The smell of burning wood cut through the chill. A twinge of alarm hit her stomach until she remembered humans had fireplaces and she looked up. Sure enough, smoke puffed into the sky from the roof of a house across the street.
Hundreds of birds flew over in a large V formation. Their chirping and tweeting sounded like a room full of talking people. Venus paused to watch as they landed on a telephone wire. Grief overwhelmed her senses. Sadraden. Dead. She’d never fly with her friend again. She’d never get the chance to meet her baby.
“Ready?” Zaren asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Venus turned slightly to search his face. He knew what she’d been thinking about, his sorrow evident. “Yes,” she answered and they walked to Dervinias’s enormous black truck together.
20 . Wild, Wild West
When they arrived at school, she watched kids whisper and gawk at them.
She gawked back.
One of the strangest parts about being on Earth was how alike the human teens and kelarians looked. Two eyes, a nose and a mouth. Hair in different lengths, and limbs long and lanky or short and stubby, same as kels. Sure unchanged kels were silver and white, but that almost seemed tame when compared to what some of the kids here did to their faces, bodies, and hair.
Piercings in all sorts of places—eyebrows, lips, cheeks, noses, even tongues. Hair the color of the sun, or purple pansies. Their nails were all sorts of colors, and some even had jewels on them.
Zaren wrapped a hand around her arm. She leaned into him, thankful again for his nearness, his coming after her so she wasn’t alone on this strange planet. They were in Cheyenne, Wyoming. The West. Home of cattle, wide-open spaces, and Frontier Days . . .
“Where are the cowboys? The hats? The horses?”
Dervinias snorted. “This isn’t Earth Studies, V. These kids do everything they can to avoid the mold. But if you must see a cowboy, check out the group over there, yonder .”
She turned and sure enough, there were cowboys! They had on cool hats and large belt buckles, jeans that looked too tight, and fantastic boots. “So they do exist.”
“Well, of course they do. One of the kids over there—the tall one with the black hat—he’s the calf roping champion of the state. And see that girl with hair the color of hay and the turquoise belt buckle?” He paused and waited for Venus to acknowledge she saw her.
“Yes.”
“She’s an amazing barrel racer.”
“Barrel racer?”
“Are you sure you took Earth Studies?”
Venus frowned.
“It’s when the horse and rider race around two barrels . . . You know what those are, right—”
She smacked him on the arm.
He continued, “In a figure eight.”
“Oh, that’s fabu.”
“Yeah, right. Fabu! You’re a dork.” He laughed and winked.
She looked away and noticed a few girls whispering and pointing in her
Turning back and forth in the full-length mirror attached to the bathroom door, Venus decided she looked adorable. Zaren had also bought scrunchies and barrettes. Since her hair hung to her waist, she was grateful for them. Venus made a braid and wrapped a maroon-colored lace scrunchie around the end.
Finished, she picked up a small black purse, which she’d filled with cherry-flavored lip gloss, a couple of pens and another scrunchie, and hurried to the living room, where she knew the guys were waiting.
“I’m ready.”
“You look beautiful, Venus,” Dervinias said.
“Yes, you do,” Zaren agreed.
“We need to go if we don’t want to be late.”
Once outside, Venus snuggled deeper into her coat. Her body longed to really inhale, take a big, deep breath, but she resisted, knowing her lungs couldn’t take it. Instead she studied the neighborhood—all of the houses crammed together in their neat little rows. Somewhere there was a fire. The smell of burning wood cut through the chill. A twinge of alarm hit her stomach until she remembered humans had fireplaces and she looked up. Sure enough, smoke puffed into the sky from the roof of a house across the street.
Hundreds of birds flew over in a large V formation. Their chirping and tweeting sounded like a room full of talking people. Venus paused to watch as they landed on a telephone wire. Grief overwhelmed her senses. Sadraden. Dead. She’d never fly with her friend again. She’d never get the chance to meet her baby.
“Ready?” Zaren asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Venus turned slightly to search his face. He knew what she’d been thinking about, his sorrow evident. “Yes,” she answered and they walked to Dervinias’s enormous black truck together.
20 . Wild, Wild West
When they arrived at school, she watched kids whisper and gawk at them.
She gawked back.
One of the strangest parts about being on Earth was how alike the human teens and kelarians looked. Two eyes, a nose and a mouth. Hair in different lengths, and limbs long and lanky or short and stubby, same as kels. Sure unchanged kels were silver and white, but that almost seemed tame when compared to what some of the kids here did to their faces, bodies, and hair.
Piercings in all sorts of places—eyebrows, lips, cheeks, noses, even tongues. Hair the color of the sun, or purple pansies. Their nails were all sorts of colors, and some even had jewels on them.
Zaren wrapped a hand around her arm. She leaned into him, thankful again for his nearness, his coming after her so she wasn’t alone on this strange planet. They were in Cheyenne, Wyoming. The West. Home of cattle, wide-open spaces, and Frontier Days . . .
“Where are the cowboys? The hats? The horses?”
Dervinias snorted. “This isn’t Earth Studies, V. These kids do everything they can to avoid the mold. But if you must see a cowboy, check out the group over there, yonder .”
She turned and sure enough, there were cowboys! They had on cool hats and large belt buckles, jeans that looked too tight, and fantastic boots. “So they do exist.”
“Well, of course they do. One of the kids over there—the tall one with the black hat—he’s the calf roping champion of the state. And see that girl with hair the color of hay and the turquoise belt buckle?” He paused and waited for Venus to acknowledge she saw her.
“Yes.”
“She’s an amazing barrel racer.”
“Barrel racer?”
“Are you sure you took Earth Studies?”
Venus frowned.
“It’s when the horse and rider race around two barrels . . . You know what those are, right—”
She smacked him on the arm.
He continued, “In a figure eight.”
“Oh, that’s fabu.”
“Yeah, right. Fabu! You’re a dork.” He laughed and winked.
She looked away and noticed a few girls whispering and pointing in her
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