How I Stole Johnny Depp's Alien Girlfriend Read Online Free Page A

Space Splashing.”
    Can’t wait to see some of that. “Show me!”
    She shakes her head and hands me the comic. “I cannot, Earthling.”
    â€œYou cannot ?” Oh, what a surprise! I smile, returning The Coming of Galactus! to the brand-new Galactus section.
    â€œIt would kill me if I tried, because of Space Flop.”
    â€œSure. Space Flop.” I wish she could hear herself.
    â€œTraveling a very long distance in space causes Space Flop. When I am no longer Space Flopped, I can Space Splash.”
    A serious Marvel guy like me prefers more complex scenarios. “Space Flop. Space Splash. I’m Space Shocked!” I laugh.
    â€œDo not mock me!” she barks. “Do you think I would be trapped here if I could Space Splash? When Space Flop is over, an army of Earthlings will not be able to stop me.”
    She squashes Tintin’s face on the pillow with her fist and looks at me like I’m next.
    Which reminds me:
1. Do not laugh at a patient’s bonkersness.
    2. Do not upset someone who regularly breaks people’s bones.
    â€œI get it. You’re flopped. When you’re not, you’ll splash. Don’t… flip on me. Hot cocoa?” I try to walk away. Cocoa should restore the peace between us.
    She leaps right in front of me, grabs my T-shirt, and pulls me toward her till I can feel her…well, bazongas right there against my chest. “I could punch you in the nose and give you a taste of Space Splashing,” she says, raising a threatening fist.
    I’ve never been this close to a girl before. And if I weren’t so scared about the aforementioned punch, I would think she smells amazing! Like honey and… space spices ?
    â€œAhem!”
    We turn around. She lets go of me. Dad is standing in the hall, looking annoyed and probably wondering what part of “leave Zelda alone” I didn’t get.
    â€œA word, please,” he says, motioning for me to follow him into the hall.
    I’m totally going to get it, Dad’s way: a long lecture on the importance of keeping promises, and I’ll probably have to read a book on the subject, too.
    Dad’s lying in bed reading his own article, which was recently published in a scientific journal, as if to remind himself of his own principles of inner peace and tolerance before Mom arrives tomorrow morning to pick me up and give him hell.
    I’m lying beside him, thinking of Zelda and pretending to read the copy of Sophie’s World he gave me at the beginning of summer.
    Dad wants to make sure there’s no more interaction between me and Zelda, so I’m sleeping in his room tonight, which is a real bummer, since Dad snores like a jet engine and I’m dying for more interaction.
    â€œIf you knew someone’s DNA,” I ask suddenly, “could you tell for sure that you were meant to be together?”
    â€œWell…” Dad drops the journal on his lap and thinks about it. “It’s quite a theory she’s got there. If only it were that simple!”
    â€œHow do you know, then?”
    â€œIt’s more a question of trial and error.”
    Like him and Mom, if you put the emphasis on error.
    â€œBut if it’s not DNA, there must be something that makes you want to be with someone.”
    â€œI guess love would be that something.”
    Love! Now, that’s a fishy subject, I tell you.
    â€œDid you tell Zelda that?” I ask.
    â€œI did, actually.” Dad switches off his bedside light.
    I put my own book away and switch off my light, too. “What did she say?”
    â€œShe said love was a sin.”
    Sweet dreams.

4
EXPIRATION: 62 HOURS

    I ’m having a nightmare where Zelda orders the T. rex to eat me when I’m woken up by Dad’s voice. I switch on the light, get out of bed, and find him pacing the kitchen in his pajamas, talking on his cell phone and scratching his bald head hysterically.
    â€œI don’t