Chapter Text
My name is Marco, and I’m an Animorph. You probably already knew that. Pretty much everyone on Earth has heard my story: the classic tale of a charming, handsome boy who fought some aliens, saved my family, saved the world, and lived happily ever after. And by living happily ever after, of course, I mean making millions of dollars, starring in a hit TV show, and partying with Hollywood super-babes. After years of being poor and having snooty girls shut me down with comments like “in your dreams, munchkin”, I couldn’t imagine a happier ending than that.
It was a typical Friday night for me, hosting a baller party in my MTV Cribs-worthy mansion, surrounded by babes who were hanging on my every word. I was dropping jokes so lame that they would make Rachel’s eyes stick permanently to the back of her head. Yet these girls were howling like I was Chris Rock.
Sounds great, doesn’t it?
“Oh, Marco, you’re so funny!” one of the babes giggled while strategically placing her manicured hand on my arm. She was a perfectly-tanned, pinstripe-highlighted brunette whose name was…Kelly? Kendra? Whatever.
If you told me a year ago that it was possible to grow bored of having girls fawn over me, I would have called you insane. Delusional. Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs! And don’t get me wrong, I’d still much rather be trapped with a bunch of bimbos than a horde of Hork-Bajir controllers. But let me tell you a secret: the whole babe-magnet thing gets kinda stale after a while.
Cassie warned me that it would happen – something about the intense sequence of guerilla warfare followed by instant fame wreaking havoc on my delicate teenage dopamine levels. I figured it would take me at least a decade of living the high life before boredom truly set in. Cassie said I’d be lucky to make it a year.
As usual, Cassie was right.
You see, in addition to being very observant, my friend Cassie knows the future. Kind of.
Dear, sweet Cassie stole the most powerful weapon in the history of the universe: the Time Matrix. She used it to travel back a couple of years and change our final battle against the Yeerks. Cassie said that her time-hopping stopped a chain of events that included Rachel and Tom dying, Ax being captured by some aliens, Jake and I disappearing on a suicidal rescue mission, and MC Hammer Pants coming back into fashion.
…Just kidding! But unfortunately, only about the Hammer Pants.
When she first told us about her secret future past, I thought that Cassie was just the first Animorph to have a complete mental breakdown. But then our old nemesis, the Drode, turned up and confirmed her story. After that, I believed her whole Miss Cleo I know the future schtick. Not that it helped me much, since she didn't have any advice on the whole boredom situation that didn’t end with me turning into frozen space-debris.
But being the eternal optimist that I am, somehow I soldier on. Which brings me back to my party!
The group conversation had migrated from my terrible jokes to probably-Kelly starting on the dreaded, familiar, “Oh my gawd, you should, like, totally look into Kabbalah. It, like, totally changed my life.”
I didn’t used to mind sitting through these kinds of mind-numbing conversations. After all, it gave me plenty of time to fantasize about what was under her lime-green tube top. But unfortunately, this babe had the same plastic surgeon, spray tan artist, and Pilates instructor as the last dozen girls I’d gone out with; nothing new to fantasize about there. So what else could I do? I smiled and nodded for a few seconds, then politely told everyone that I had to go to the bathroom. Not the classiest move, but better than blatantly blowing Kylie/Kendra/Kali off. I may not remember her name, but I hadn’t forgotten that she was the niece of a major studio executive – not the kind of person you want to rub the wrong way in my line of work.
It was the fifth time I’d had to “go to the bathroom” in the span of a few hours. I wondered if anyone noticed. Maybe it would wind up as a background story in some tabloid: “Marco’s Secret Bladder Struggles – Insider Tells All!” The gossip columnists had been getting more creative lately, because apparently no is still interested in reading about how brave and cute and funny I am. Even though my TV show had been renewed, I wasn't front-page news anymore. My publicist, Summer, thought that the best way to earn back a spot on the cover of Us Weekly was to get myself a high-profile girlfriend. I didn’t doubt Summer’s strategy, but I’d been hesitant to pull the trigger. How could I settle for just one girl when there were so many of them clamoring for my attention? But the way things had been going lately, maybe it was time to suck it up and follow my publicist’s advice.
I started looking through the crowd, and it didn’t take long to spot two options from Summer’s ‘girlfriend-material’ shortlist: a bubblegum-blonde pop star and a porcelain-doll-faced actress with a hit WB show. Le sigh …would I rather be annoyed to death by obnoxious giggles or by endless ramblings about the art of filmmaking?
I grabbed a glass of champagne and started toward the pop star when another girl caught my eye. I didn't recognize her from my guest list, but she was clearly new to town. Even from a distance, you could tell that she hadn't yet gone through the Hollywood Barbie conveyor belt – too many original parts still intact. Her long, dark hair was scandalously natural, falling in loose waves over the erratic tan lines that adorned her shoulders. Even her shape was more healthy high-school-cheerleader than stick-thin supermodel.
It felt like serendipity. In a room full of Stepford clones, she was a breath of fresh air – the kind of low-key, natural beauty that I would have lost my mind over back in high school. The kind of girl who maybe, just maybe, would have gone out with me back then, if I could charm her right. A girl who would have make weeks of effort feel worth it for a single, genuine smile.
Man, those were the days. Back when chasing babes was so much more difficult, yet infinitely more satisfying. I felt a twinge of nostalgic excitement just thinking about it. The new girl clearly wasn’t front-page girlfriend material, but still…maybe it wasn’t time for me to settle down just yet.
My new target was chatting with Dr. Aaron Chesnick. Unlike the rest of my networking-obsessed party guests, Aaron wouldn’t care what kind of industry clout this girl had. He was just a nice guy with a PhD in Animal Behavior who’d lucked into a barely-paid advisor role on the Animorph movie. The girl looked too young to be his date – Aaron wasn’t the type to fraternize with students. She was mine for the taking.
“Aaron!” I yelled, plowing into their conversation.
“Marco!” He put out his hand for the douchey bro hug that had somehow become the default greeting in my social circles. “I’ve just been hearing some of the most fascinating stories! You never told me about how you acquired a mountain goat. Sounds like it was quite the challenge!”
I frowned. Since becoming famous, I’ve shared a ton of amusing animal encounters, but I was pretty positive that I’d never told a soul that story.
“The goat kicked you straight off a cliff, didn’t he, Marco?” my mystery girl said as she turned towards me. I finally got a better look at her face, and I was as shocked as if I'd met a Taxxon doing a juice cleanse.
It was Jordan Berenson! Rachel’s little sister. Well, shit. So much for my new-arrival breath of fresh air.
It was no surprise that I hadn’t recognized her. She looked very different from the last time I’d seen her, back in the Hork Bajir Valley. The Jordan I remembered had been going through something of a gangly, pimply, braces-wearing phase. Clearly that phase hadn’t lasted long, because the Jordan standing in front of me could be a Homecoming Queen.
Not that it really mattered what she looked like. Some things just weren't compatible with my finally-feasible life goal of living past twenty, and hitting on Jordan Berenson was definitely one of them. If Rachel thought I was digging her precious baby sister, she'd go straight to grizzly and get all Commando on me before you could say “The aliens made me do it!”. And that wasn’t even considering Rachel’s equally insane – if less morph-capable – mother, Naomi.
“Have you ever tried to pet a mountain goat?” I joked, trying not to reveal my disappointment as I pulled my jaw back up from the floor. “Goats are tougher than they look.”
“What about ducks?” Jordan said in a deceptively innocent voice. “Tobias told me that story, too.”
I opened my mouth for a comeback, but it didn’t come right away. I must have still been in shock...or just out of practice. These days, I was more used to beautiful females falling at my feet than taking shots at my Animorph-related heroics. I had to get it together! No way was some smart-mouth kid going to make me look like a fool at my own party.
“Jordan, what are you doing here? This is a grown-up party. No children allowed.” I mimicked the standard go-away-little-sibling lingo that Tom always threw at Jake and me.
“Really, no children? Then what are you doing here, Marco?” She crossed her arms and smirked at me.
“I’m old in gorilla years.”
“Well in human years, I’m pretty sure that neither of us belong at a – what did you call it? A grown-up party. You want to give me a hard time? Maybe I should go around and remind everyone that their host is too young to buy a pack of cigarettes, let alone that glass of champagne you’re holding.”
Ouch. I’d gotten so used to bossing grown-ups around that I sometimes forgot I technically wasn’t one myself. Another point for Jordan. How was this happening? I knew she was a master of back-talking her family, but she’d never spoken like that to me before. Now Jordan was sparring with me like… well, like Rachel.
“At least I’m not still in high school!” I shot back at her.
“That’s only something to be proud of if you’ve graduated, dropout.”
“Yeah, well you’re not even old enough to drive.”
“If we’re going by your standards, I’m old enough to drive a stolen truck through a line of trash cans.” She gave me another smirk. “And you can’t blame Tobias for that story; you told it on the Letterman show.”
“You saw me on Letterman? Isn’t he on after your bedtime?”
For a second, Jordan looked adorably annoyed, but she recovered quickly.
“I couldn’t miss you presenting Dave’s Top Ten!” She started reciting in a mildly offensive impression of my voice. “And the number one sign that you might be an Animorph is: you avoid traffic jams by morphing into a cheetah!”
“Oh yes, I remember that one,” said Aaron, catching me off guard. I’d been so focused on Jordan, I’d almost forgotten he was there. “I’m surprised you chose the cheetah, Marco. While it is technically the fastest land animal, they have notoriously poor endurance. I’d think you of all people would know that!”
I held back the urge to roll my eyes. “It was just a joke.”
“Of course it was a joke!” Jordan said brightly, then added, “Just not a very good one.”
“Hey, lots of people said that Top Ten was great!”
“I’m sure they did! Lots of people like your agent,” she started ticking off her fingers, “your publicist, your flock of brain-dead groupies…”
Oof. I had to pull out all my best acting chops to pretend that arrow hadn’t hit its mark.
“How about this for a Top Ten sign you might be an Animorph?” I said, my voice sounding more defensive than I would have liked. ”Given the choice between hanging with a horde of murderous Taxxon controllers or an annoying little sister…you’d pick the Taxxons.”
I thought she’d be offended, but instead, Jordan let out a long, genuine laugh. It rippled through her body, followed by a huge grin – the kind of beautiful, hard-earned smile I’d been dreaming about just a few minutes earlier. I smiled back at her, glad to learn that Jordan could take a joke. I couldn’t remember the last girl who’d made me work so hard to win her over. Probably Rachel. But Jordan’s dark, playful eyes were looking at me in a way that Rachel’s never had.
Jordan wanted me.
Now I realize that I say that about a lot of ladies – after all, most ladies want me. But there was something in Jordan’s gaze that felt deeper than the run-of-the-mill, fame-seeking opportunism that I was used to. Whatever it was, it made me feel all tingly inside. I was grinning like an idiot, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
“How did you get in here?” I finally broke eye contact, grounding myself by staring down at my shoes. “You’re not on the guest list.”
“Guilty.” She stepped towards me, with her wrists together as if handcuffed. The tops of her fingers grazed against my lower abdomen, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me. “What are you going to do about it, Marco? Lock me up?”
I looked back up at her face. Dumb move. It was easier to think straight when I was staring at my feet. She really was classic, girl-next-door beautiful. The kind of girl that you dream about bringing home to your family. The kind of girl that any guy would be crazy not to want.
And she wanted me.
“Jordan!”
I jumped at the familiar voice. I turned to see Rachel, who had appeared out of nowhere with a human-morphed Tobias in tow. “Quit ditching me, or I’m not bringing you to any more parties,” she snapped at her sister.
“I’ve been right here the whole time,” said Jordan, dropping her arms.
Rachel looked furious. I couldn’t help but be reminded of an angry grizzly bear, tearing through Hork-Bajir and human controllers like they were made of tissue paper.
What was I doing?! Jordan was not just some random, unusually self-assured fifteen-year-old. She was crazy Rachel’s little sister! Thank goodness the arrival of the warrior princess herself had snapped me out of my trance.
“Hello, Xena. Bird-boy. Glad you could make it.” I tried to greet them as casually as possible.
“My apologies, Rachel,” said Aaron, who I’d once again had forgotten was there. “I didn’t mean to detain your sister. You know how I get whenever I meet an eager young mind!” Aaron was a good guy, but he was a huge nerd. Jordan probably asked one polite question and was rewarded with a treatise on the psychological development of goats.
“No apology necessary, Dr. Chesnick,” said Rachel. “Out of all Marco’s friends that I could leave my sister with, you are by far the least horrifying.” Rachel smirked, turning to look at me. I guess she was waiting for a reaction to her insult. I took a second too long before putting on the anticipated response.
“What are you saying about my guests?” I said in a tone of hopefully-convincing outrage. “This party has more saints than the Superdome.”
“Yeah right,” she sneered. “Then why did some drunk ding-dong in a FUBU hat just try to grab my ass?”
I must have looked panicked, because Tobias quickly added, “Chill out Marco, your creepy guest is fine. I noticed him before he got close enough to actually touch her.”
“It is not okay!” Rachel grumbled, “He’s lucky I didn’t break his arm.”
Even in human morph, Tobias was still always watching, always alert. He made an impressive effort at stopping Rachel from exploding at mostly-innocent bystanders. Talk about a job from hell! Then again, it’s not like he had anything better to do. Since the war ended, the only thing going on in Tobias’s life was deciding which rodent to eat next. That, and telling Jordan embarrassing stories about me, apparently.
It’s funny now to think that I used to be jealous of Tobias being Rachel’s full-time lover-bird. I’d long since come to appreciate that Rachel was a beauty best appreciated from a safe distance of at least six feet.
“Are you all excited for the Animorphs movie premiere next week?” Aaron chimed in, thankfully changing the subject.
“It’s going to be the premiere of the century!” I jumped on the bandwagon. “You should see the guest list. All the stars are going to be there: Denzel, De Niro, Destiny’s Child. And that’s just the D’s!”
“What about your best friends, Dumb and Dumber?” Rachel asked in a falsely sweet voice. “Will they be there, too?”
“No, but I did invite your favorite role model, Cher from Clueless .”
“I’m excited to see the Animorph movie,” Jordan piped up before Rachel could retaliate. “I mean, I’ve heard the story a million times, but it will be cool to watch it play out on the big screen, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t want to watch one of the worst nights of your life displayed on a fifty-foot screen in front of hundreds of people you don’t know,” Tobias said dryly.
Rachel's face transformed from annoyed to tender as she grabbed Tobias’s hand. “You know we don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.”
“Hey, you already RSVP’d!” I reminded them. “No take-backs.”
“Why do you care so much, anyway?” Rachel sneered at me. “It’s just a stupid movie.”
“Charlie’s Angels was just a stupid movie,” said Jordan, “but I seem to remember a certain big sister making me and Cassie dress up with her to go see it on opening night.”
Rachel shut her mouth, looking embarrassed. Jordan winked at me. I’d never had Berenson snark on my side of an argument before! Maybe I really had won her over. I studied Jordan again. She did have pretty eyes. And a pretty smile. And amazing dimples; I was always a sucker for dimples.
If only Rachel’s dimple-less face wasn’t glaring at me like she wanted to rip out my spleen.
“We’ll be at the premiere,” said Tobias. “If everyone else in the world is going to see a movie about me, I’d rather not be in the dark about it. Besides, I already told Ax that I was coming.”
“Excellent!” I gave Tobias a look of appreciation before taking the opportunity to make my exit. “Well as much fun as this is, I do need to go attend to the rest of my guests. Enjoy the canapés!” My body did a weird little bow and booked it to the other side of the room.
Once I’d reached a safe distance, I glanced back to see Aaron still chatting with Rachel and Tobias. For an animal psychology nerd, Animorphs were the most interesting people on the planet, so they’d probably be there for a while. Jordan was still listening politely, her back turned to me.
I couldn’t seem to stop my eyes from straying back to Jordan’s sun-kissed shoulders. I let myself take one last lingering look at the figure that had lured me in. I remembered the touch of her fingertips, and couldn’t help but wonder how far those tan-lines extended under her dress…
Rachel looked up and caught me staring. I quickly averted my gaze and headed out onto the veranda. Crisis averted.
I went back to chatting with guests, feeling the comforting reassurance of their fake laughs and empty compliments. I tried to ignore the curiosity that felt almost magnetic in the way it kept drawing my eyes back to the room I’d just left. I grabbed another glass of champagne, steeling my resolve to stay outside. I’d survived the first sixteen years of my life without getting any of the girls that I wanted. Surely I could survive missing out on just one more.