Page 35 of The Bully Alien

"Don't be scared. Don't be anything but determined. You got this."

"No, I don't."

"Not with that attitude," I snort.

He takes a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper."What's the point? The ship's broken beyond repair."

"What's the point of living at all if you're going to give up when it gets tough. Have you looked in a mirror and seen yourself? You're tough, right? Mr. Tough Alien Guy. Prove it. Get up off your sorry ass and do something to change your circumstances." I lift my chin. "Go on. I dare you."

12

Wyatt

Igrit my teeth. As if her daring me is going to make a bit of a fucking difference.

"I've tried for years to fix it," I snap. "I've taken apart what I can to try to rework and salvage what I can, but it's not enough. The pieces I would need to replace what's broken and unfixable so it can fly... They're on my home planet. Nothing here on Earth will ever help to fix it. I'm grounded forever. I held out hope that maybe you Earthlings were closer... You aren't. You're fucking light years away, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry we met and that you got your hopes up because nothing is ever going to change. This.. all of it... I should just burning it."

"Wow. I didn't realize you were a fucking quitter. I never should've fucked you. Should've held out for a winner."

I jerk to my feet and tower over her. "You regret it?" My voice is low.

Deadly.

I'm trying to hide just how hurt that makes me.

How fucking furious I am.

Because I hadn't thought I would ever sleep with an Earthling, and I gave in. I caved. And it had been amazing, incredible, just like I wrote, but I knew it had been a one-tie thing.

Still, I hoped we would move on past this anger that's always been there between us.

Anger that has been misplaced.

But I also thought I wouldn't see her again.

Naive, maybe. Stupid, yes.

She lifts her chin, defiant as other, her eyes shining. That scar makes her look like a fucking warrior or a goddess. Something more than just a boring, regular Earthling, and I hate myself for not having the courage to Rech up and caress her face, to touch it, to trail my finger along it.

Her scar doesn't define who she is, but it makes her almost too beautiful to look at.

Whatever or whoever hurt her did a lot of damage, but she's strong. Doesn't she realize that? She's still fighting.

Fuck. Maybe I should be fighting to.

I'm done feeling sorry for myself. I don't need her approval to do shit, but I want it. I really fucking want it.

So despite my reservations and fears, I try once more to repair the ship and make something from nothing. It's a long shot, but if anyone can do it, it's me, an alien with superhuman powers, at least compared to the Earthlings. I'm stronger than all of them, have more endurance too. My speed is greater than even their fastest athlete.

Naturally, I already have all kinds of tools, not just the ones from my home planet but also screwdrivers, hammers, and wrenches.

My heart is pounding in my throat as I start to take apart the ship's broken parts. I feel a fierce determination bubbling through me as I get stuck into my task.

I do my best to ignore Delana. She hovers around, not in my way, watching carefully. I can sense her questions, her curiosity, and I find myself talking as I work, explaining what each part of the ship is, what is does, and why it is vital.

Despite all my reservations, I try to repair the ship. Even though I know it's futile, I can't help but hope that something will click into place, so I take apart one of the panels and start digging around. To my surprise, I find some pieces that look like they could fit together with what's already in place. As if fate is giving me a chance, the pieces fit perfectly and, after some tinkering and testing, they hold firm, and I fix some of the wiring.

While this console is important, it's also not strictly necessary. Deep sleep helps when you are traveling for a long duration, especially when you don't have enough food for the journey, and the essenmaker is busted beyond repair, but it's not the engine or the hyperdrive or any of the seriously crucial aspects of our flight.