Chapter 15, "Bitchiness"
So there I was, willingly trapped in that house again. By now, Frig was practically interchangeable with a regular Zmeephish-Quian, and it made me feel numb inside. Like I was immune. Immune to aliens. Whatever happened after the stupid baby, I just hoped it involved the Blobbersons, because I needed some serious alien ass-whooping.
Klaxie being around all the time and acting super excited about the liquid alien baby didn't help at all. I mean, I knew where at least four hundred super-charged alien blasting weapons were within these very walls, and it grew very difficult not to just grab a few and blast some slime. Mmm...blasting slime...so...tempting...
"Christopher! I blame the porcupines!" my dad called to me, shaking me out of my slimy blasty fantasy.
"I probably agree," I said, just for the sake of keeping happy the man who had my dad's face but not his brain.
"But do you really think we can eat them all?" he asked, concern filling his eyes.
"Maybe if Frig helps," I suggested.
Frig popped her eyeball-filled head around the corner. "Help with what? Being pregnant?" She pointed at her balloon belly, and I wanted to slap her. It was really annoying how she did that all the time. We know there's a dang baby in you, Frig! Get over it! Geez.
"Never mind," I groaned, and shoved off to find somewhere more alone to be.
Being alone these days created a special sort of challenge. People were everywhere. Well, people and aliens. And crazies. And robots. Hector found me moping yesterday and tried to convince me everything would be okay. And here's the thing, I really wanted to believe him, because somewhere in my heart, I still think of him as my stupid brother. Sometimes, when he's saying that robot stuff, I can see a little glimpse of his human self behind his eyes. And then he's right back on to mentioning his circuits and programming and I just get all depressed.
I hadn't made it very far into my search for aloneness when I bumped into Jessica. Like, literally, I kind of smacked into her as we were both rounding the same corner from opposite sides.
"Oh," I said, "sorry."
"It's cool. I was just bringing Klaxie this book." She held up a book with an alien script on it, one I'd studied but couldn't remember how to translate just then.
"Why is Klaxie reading our books?"
Jessica shrugged. "Because he's a loser I guess? Who reads? I mean, seriously." She shook her long, sunshine and happiness colored hair and I caught a whiff of strawberry Suave shampoo. I blinked, trying to breathe. I think I may have even slapped myself a little.
"Listen, I'll take it to him," I said, grabbing the book from her. I could use a little confrontation right about now.
"Whatever," Jessica said. "I'm going to see if there's any ice cream left."
She left, and I took a moment to make my heart stop beating so quickly.
I don't know where the hell this crush on Jessica had come from. For all the nasty things she's said about Frig in the past, I should really hate her. I used to hate her. It was ridiculous. I felt determined to put an end to it. But I'd work on that later. For now, yelling at Klaxie.
Klaxie wasn't that hard to find. He spent most of his time these days fawning over Frig and Xlormp, the nauseatingly happy alien parents to be. Who spent most of their time in the kitchen, stuffing their faces with all kinds of vomit-inducing alien fare. I didn't understand how Tabitha could cook in there with all of those intestines and viscera lying around.
Sure enough, there was Frig, stuffing her face with something grody, Xlormp at her side, patting her belly and gnawing on her limbs. And Klaxie watching them, beaming like a proud and kind of creepy uncle thing.
"Klaxie," I shouted, letting my disgust turn to anger and bitchiness. "What are you doing reading my books?" I held the book up at him in an accusatory fashion.
"Oh! Thanks for bringing me that, Christopher!" he clapped happily, taking the book from me without answering my question.
"You didn't answer my question," I pointed out.
"Right, sorry," he muttered, absent-mindedly tipping the silly bowler hat he wore today. "I'm studying other human-alien births."
I couldn't think of anything offensive to yell at him that made any sense, so instead I asked, "Have there been any?"
"No," he said, "because most aliens find the idea too disgusting."
I crossed my arms in front of my chest to make sure he knew I wasn't happy about anything. "What is that book, then?"
"This is a fictional story in Crackenfrankian about a human-alien pregnancy that ends in a violent explosion, creating the moon of Sploof. It's a creation myth."
Explosion? "So, do you think there's any chance of Frig exploding and creating a moon?"
Klaxie rolled his eyes and shoved me a little, which made me want to snap off his tentacle and shove it up his backside. "Don't be silly, Christopher, it's just a story!"
"Then why are you reading it?"
"Boredom, mostly, at this point. I mean, how long can you really watch these two google over each other?" He pointed to Xlormp and Frig, who were now making stupid faces at each other and smooching intermittently.
I didn't want to, but I agreed with Klaxie. "Yeah, maybe I should read about moon explosions, too." And just because I didn't get to vent any of my rage, I slapped him across the face before leaving the kitchen.
Tabitha passed me on the way out, carrying a bucket of something nasty.
"What is that?" I asked her.
"Oh, just some giraffe spleen that Klaxie wanted me to fix for dinner tonight."
I goggled at her. "Are you seriously cooking for the aliens now?"
She nodded. "Why not? They're our friends, right?"
I stared at Tabitha, poor, sweet, impressionable Tabitha. Everyone is 'our friends'. I had to tell her. I had to explain to her. She couldn't spend the rest of her life trusting aliens.
She had to be taught.
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