Her Alien Protector: A Sci-fi Romance

Part 1

Ava

The strangeness in tonight's darkening sky—a glowing green—makes it hard to focus on my studies.

My phone buzzes. A text appears on my screen.

Dad: Need Ur help!!!

Just seeing the word dad followed by the abbreviations and many exclamation points, his way of telling me his message is— important!!!—makes me nervous.

No, not this time. Not only do I have a test tomorrow, but I have flying time scheduled that I worked hard to get. Dad always asks for favors that sound simple, but they end up taking days.

Ignore him.

What if this is a real emergency? Or something happened with the twins?

I grab my phone, tapping away on the screen.

Me: WHY?!!!

I bite a nail, waiting. Underneath my text, the words 'message delivered' appear. So, Dad's phone is working.

Where then is his answer, or the three little dots to show he is typing?

Not even a minute later, I break. "Call Dad," I tell my phone.

No pickup.

He is playing me. I want to ignore his stupid texts, but if I am wrong, I will never forgive myself.

I grab my phone, scrolling through local news headlines. There are no amber alerts or reports of explosions. So, since the twins are nine, they should be okay.

Study. Forget the unanswered message.

It's not working.

Fine. I know when I'm beaten. On the off chance I study tonight, I throw a book into my backpack and get my ten-speed bike out of the garage. Two hours should be more than enough time to visit with the twins. Later tonight, I can study.

Shimmering green and orange illuminate the night sky. If I didn't know better, I would think there are fires in the mountains. Frantically I pedal faster toward my family's home.

When I finally arrive, the house looks fine. In fact, my father seems rather relaxed sitting in his truck idling in the driveway.

Through his rolled-down window, Dad calls out to me, "Good girl. I knew you would come."

I hate that nickname. "Dad, I already told you, I am—"

"Twenty-two years old," he says, laughing.

"Which means I am not a child," I huff. "Why didn't you answer your text? Or pick up the phone when I—"

"Calm down, Ava. I only need you to watch the twins while I try to get my hands on a meteor. Then I can pay for you to get all the flying time you need."

I take a deep breath. Be firm. Don't let him boss you around. "Thanks, Dad, but between my part-time job and volunteering, I've got my flight hours covered. I don't have time to–"

He revs the engine. "That's great, sweetie. Look after Hannah and Oliver. See you later."

"What? Are you listening to me? I need–"

Dad throws the truck in reverse, spewing pebbles. Tires screech as the truck accelerates down the road.

How have I fallen for another one of his schemes? I kick the ground. "But I need to study for my test tomorrow."

My snarky brother Oliver calls out from the porch, "Way to speak up for yourself, sis."

Seconds later, my sister Hannah emerges from the garage. She runs toward me, already wearing her exploring gear—goggles, a headlamp, and a big backpack. "Can we go?"