Chapter 1

1

“So. This is weird.”

The sound of my own voice surprises me in the silence of my apartment. My inside thoughts often become outside thoughts without my permission, but I don’t usually notice until someone responds to them. Thankfully I’ve never had anything embarrassing come out of my mouth with someone else there, so it’s not something I’ve ever actively worked to stop. Everyone’s a little quirky, and variety is the spice of life.

Dear Elijah,

Thank you for your hospitality. You should definitely get a restraining order against the ex who broke into your house (blame him for the damage to your chain lock). Also, I’ve commandeered possession of your house plants because you’re a bad plant dad. They would have died while you were gone.

From your summer house-sitter,

Romily Butcher

I didn’t hire a house-sitter. In fact, when I left to spend the summer abroad in Italy, I couldn’t find a single person willing to water my plants besides Stalker Steve, and he’s the reason everyone refused to help me out. He’s actually a stalker and scared all my friends away.

“ Friends .”

I think a true friend wouldn’t have let him scare them off behind my back, but it’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t need houseplants or friends. Nothing else is missing, and actually, I have more food now than when I left, so that’s cool.

“Chirrup.”

“What the hell was that?”

I glance around my shockingly clean apartment, looking for the chirp that came from somewhere.

“Chirrup!”

“Ok, grabbing my broom now.”

I collect my little aluminum broom from the wall next to the fridge (someone hung it up on some hook-things that weren’t there before I left for Italy), and I slowly sneak into the living room, searching for the source of the chirp—don’t want to scare whatever it is.

“I’m not scared. You’re scared.”

Everything is basically where I left it, except that someone rearranged my school books into alphabetical order by title. (I think they might have added a few non-school books to my collection too.) I’d organized them by semester, but it’s fine. I can always rearrange them back to my preference.

“ Chirrup! ”

The chirp catches my attention, and I back away from my bookshelf as I catch sight of a—a— thing . It’s tiny with velvety rust-colored fur and huge orange eyes. Huge. Way over-sized. Cartoon big. I cannot over exaggerate how big these eyes are. The thing’s, uh, hands are smaller than its eyes. And it’s rubbing them together evil villain style while eyeing me like I’m possibly on its menu. I wouldn’t blink twice if it suddenly started twirling a non-existent mustache.

A prehensile tail curls around one of the little tchotchkes on my bookshelf as it sort of sways on its hind, uh, hands…

“What do you call a chimp’s hands?” It’s like the creature has two sets of hands, and it’s threatening me with one set while standing on the other.

“Ok, uh, creature. Nice, um, thing…” I slowly back away from it, holding up my broom to deflect it from attacking me. That’s all I need; my doctor already thinks I’m insane. I do not want to have to explain getting mauled by a cute little monster.

“Chirrup! ”

At least its voice isn’t creepy—that’s something.

“You’re kind of cute in a terrifying way.” I have zero filter between brain and mouth, in case that wasn’t super obvious.

Bang!

I scream at the sound of someone banging on my door. God, people! Why would anyone bang on someone else’s door without sending a text first and getting a reply?

“Elijah!”

“Go away!” I yell at the voice of Stalker Steve. “I regret ever going out with you!” And that’s the truth, though I have to remind myself of that because he’s pretty hot and I have a difficult time making good choices about men.

“You don’t mean that. Open the door, Elijah. I have a welcome home gift for you.”

“Motherfucker!” I scream as a weight lands on my shoulder.

“ AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! ” The creature screams toward the door, shaking its little fists like it’s as offended by Stalker Steve as I am.

BAM!

That’s the sound of Stalker Steve—no, I will not refer to him as anything else—kicking on my door.

“Stop it!” I scream at him through the door.

“Open the door!”

“Fuck you! I’m calling the police!” This city has a response time of just under two minutes. He won’t even get to his car before they arrive—if I could call them. My phone died on the airplane and I haven’t had the chance to plug it in yet. My charger is in my luggage by the front door.

The banging stops, and then the creature on my shoulder wraps its tail around my neck, upper hands around my forehead, and lower hands around my chin. It chirps at me or the door; I can’t tell which because I can’t see it. It has a lot to say though.

“Yeah, he’s a jackass,” I agree, even though I have no idea what the creature is saying.

“ Chirrup-chirp-chirrup-chirp-chirp .” It sounds like it’s chastising me.

“Yeah, I know. You’re totally right. I do have terrible taste in men. I cannot be trusted to make these kinds of decisions.”

“ Chirp .” That’s one hundred percent the creature agreeing with me.

“We should probably leave before he comes back. That note over there says he’s already broken into the apartment once,” I suggest as I gather up my courage to try to dislodge the creature from my head.

It chitters at me, the air pressure in the apartment suddenly drops out, leaving me gasping, then everything goes blank for a blink. A thunderous clap rings my ears, and suddenly I am no longer in my apartment. Dry air filled with the scent of burning weeds fills my lungs as the sight of a rust-colored landscape swims in my vision. Scrubby plants litter the rocky terrain, and—

“Oh my fucking god. Is that a stegosaurus?” I gasp at the sight of—it’s a motherfucking dinosaur.

A. Dinosaur.

“Is that what Earthlings are calling us now?” the stegosaurus asks, side-eyeing me.

Then it shimmers and disappears, and in its place is a naked person with a huge dick.

“You are very naked,” I point out, staring at the massive schlong just hanging there for all and sundry to see.

Me. I’m all and sundry.

“And you’re wearing clothes in my realm. What if clothes are offensive here? You could be insulting my entire culture just by standing there with your pants on. Ever think of that?”

“Oh shit! Am I insulting your entire culture by wearing clothes?” I ask, grabbing at my shirt to take it off. I just got back from Europe—you don’t even realize how offensive just being American can be in some places.

The stegosaurus person waves me off. “Nah. I’m just saying, you didn’t even know my species existed before today and you’re already judging us because we’re not into sweating our balls off in the name of fashion or human modesty.”

I blink and nod, reminding myself that I have a creature attached to my head still. “I wasn’t judging your culture. I was judging your dick. It’s big. And nice. I would definitely give it a go if sex was on the table. It’s not because I’m genuinely afraid of an interspecies exchange, but if it was, it’s a nice dick.”

The stegosaurus gives his dick a light tug. “Thanks. I’m not into Earthlings anyway. Reptiles only for me.”

“That’s a little xenophobic,” I point out.

“Is it, though? Not all species are monster fuckers.”

“Is that a trait exclusive to humans?” I wonder.

“No, but that doesn’t mean it’s xenophobic to not want to fuck around outside your species.”

“I feel like that’s exactly what the definition of xenophobic would be if it was defined in cosmic terms. I’m an English major; this is kind of my wheelhouse.”

He stares at me for a very long moment. “Fine. I’m a little xenophobic because I don’t fuck outside my species.”

I shrug. “I’m sure you can work on self improvement. The first step really is admitting that there’s a problem. So, can you tell me where I am?”

He takes another long moment of silence—he’s probably distracted by a little self-reflection—before replying, “Sure. You’re about two and a half million light years away from Earth in the Andromeda galaxy. My ancestors were moved off-planet just before the big one hit about sixty million years ago. We’ve evolved since then, and have gone back a few times to check up on things, but most of us are pretty content here.”

“Kinda dry,” I point out, looking at the relatively barren landscape.

The stegosaurus shakes its bald head at me. “You’re joking, right? This is a tiny part of my planet. How many planets do you know that only have one kind of environment? Even Earth has some rocky deserts. Humans are so judgy. And you wonder why no one wants to get to know you.”

The dinosaur is totally right, and also a little judgy himself. “Planetary science isn’t really my thing. I’m probably going to end up writing children’s books or something. Kids are pretty forgiving, and I like them more than adults anyway.”

“Me too,” he agrees, waving at the creature on my head. “Speaking of which, where did you get a baby flink?”

“Is that what this is?” I hum, aborting a move to reach up and pet the creature. “It was in my apartment when I got home and latched on like this in a moment of emotional upheaval.”

The stegosaurus nods solemnly. “You should probably try to convince them to take themself back home. They get attached pretty quickly, and unless you want to be a nanny for the next ten years or so, you should return them to their parents.”

“I’m Elijah,” I say, remembering my manners when I finally get tired of mentally referring to this person as “the stegosaurus.”

“Bill.”

“Really?” I exclaim, surprised by the utterly normal name.

Bill shrugs. “Eh, I just picked a name from your mental library. I’m not actually speaking English, you’re just hearing me in English. My name isn’t Bill, but your limited anatomy can’t make the right sounds to speak my name, so Bill is fine. I like it. It’s exotic.”

“Bill isn’t exotic. It’s like the most basic name to ever exist.” Though, maybe it would be exotic to someone who doesn’t speak English like he said.

“Judgy,” Bill reminds me, shaking their head. “It’s exotic to me.”

“I guess that’s true. It’s cool you can make me hear you in English.”

“It’s not me. It’s a universal translation spell that works more of the time than it doesn’t. It’s sort of like a software update, but for the whole universe. An experienced software developer will tell you to never trust the program, and spell casters feel the same way about spells like this, but it works most of the time, so we keep it and no one really tries to fuck with it.”

That’s even cooler. A translation spell that works most of the time. “Awesome.”

“Anyway, the rules of my culture dictate that I offer you food, drink, and a place to sleep. Do you want to come back to my house? My parents probably won’t feed you to the neighbor.”

“Maybe next time? I have to figure out how to get this little flink to take me home and then how to convince them to go back to their home.” I’m not sure I want to gamble on Bill’s “probably.”

Bill shrugs. “Flinks take bribes and have a sweet tooth a mile long.”

“ Chirrup!!! ”

The air pressure drops again, things go blank and another thundering clap brings me to a place that smells like a cotton candy machine (smell is the first of my senses to return after the flink, uh, transports us). When my vision returns, I’m in a Dr. Seuss book. Looks like the forests of the Lorax. Tall trees with tufts instead of leaves. Pastels everywhere, even the grass-like ground cover. The grass is baby blue, and the trees are a rainbow of pastels.

“On the plus side, you didn’t take me to a planet lacking in oxygen.”

Why aren’t I freaking out, you wonder? I think you might be judging me right now, and that’s fine. Totally valid. I just don't really see the point in getting worked up about things I have no control over. Sure, I’m on an alien planet, but hey, it’s got a breathable atmosphere, and it’s not like I can take myself home.

The flink unwraps themself from my head and jumps to the nearest tree, scrambling to the top, ripping the tuft apart, and shoving it into its mouth. Out of curiosity, I reach up and pull a little of the tufty fibers off the lowest tree, sniffing it before licking it. It fizzles on my tongue like pop-rocks and tastes like sugarcane.

“Nice.”

I probably shouldn’t lick things in an alien environment, but I am only human, and before I learned how to walk, I was crawling all over the floor shoving shit in my mouth. I haven’t died yet. Obviously, that sense of daring doesn’t extend to aliens I’ve just met and possible sexy times.

Listen, I know it doesn’t make sense, but humans have vigorous hygiene habits because as a species we are disgusting, so in my head, Bill, being a person, is just as disgusting as humans and not a risk I’m willing to take. Cotton candy pop rocks from a tree are different. They just are.

“So, candy planet is nice, but we really need to go home.”

The flink chirps at me, grabs a handful of candy, and shoves it in their mouth.

“You know, you’re going to rot your teeth doing that. You have to brush those pearly whites if you don’t want them falling out of your head.” I really am destined to become a children’s books author—look at me using old wives tales to literally no one’s benefit.

The flink bares their teeth at me, showing me how beautifully white their very pointed teeth are.

Huh. Does that mean that the flink understands me? I mean, more than just my tone? Because I was joking when I said it was chastising me for my reprehensible taste in men, but this is pretty concrete evidence that it knows I’m talking about its teeth.

“Your teeth are beautiful now, but if you keep eating candy like that, they’re going to look like mine.” I open my mouth and show them the fillings in my molars.

Look, some people have trouble forming habits and forget to brush their teeth at night, and then they end up having weak teeth to begin with, so their teeth go bad and they end up with metal in their mouth or whatever. It’s a whole thing, and I’m not going to let anyone shame me for it—I do that well enough on my own, thank you very much.

“ CHIRP! ” the flink screams, jumping off the tree and landing on my shoulder.

The air pressure drops and I lose myself to the void, popping back into existence with that booming clap that rocks through me. I don’t smell anything particular as a first impression, but as my eyesight comes back, it becomes clear that this flink either can’t get us back to my apartment, or they don’t want to.

The giant green planet with brick red rings in the sky is a big indication they’re not done touring the cosmos with me.