Xander poked his cold nose through the brittle bushes at the back of the vacant lot he'd cut through. The seventh grader had walked a full block and a half past the two-story house that he'd lived in since kindergarten. He looked down the alley both ways. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. The coast was clear. He took a big step over the ridge of ice and snow created earlier in the day by a snowplow. His house sat just two blocks from the school but lately it took him over half an hour to get home. The usual direct route had ceased to be a viable option.

As if the additional ridicule and jokes weren't enough, the bullying had also gotten worse. Mostly pushing and shoving, with lots of name calling thrown in for good measure. Last week he'd gotten his first black eye. More green and yellow than black, the eye looked more painful than it felt. Worse though, it had made his mother cry whenever she looked at it. All his former friends avoided him like the plague. Just being seen near Captain Kook, Moon Beam Bookman, or any of the hundred other creative names he'd heard, could get them labeled a freak, a nut job, or worse. When someone called him Jupider Stupider, Xander thanked his lucky stars that he and his step-dad hadn't been searching for Uranus that night. It didn't take long, of course, before Uranus jokes and names inevitably found him. He'd heard, "Hey Xander, maybe the UFO came from Uranus," at least fifty times in the last few days.

A half block to Fulton Street, then another half block down the next alley and he'd be home. Ahead a few steps, Xander spotted a big lump of snow that had tumbled off the ridge. He skipped forward and kicked it with his boot.

"G-o-a-l," he said, raising his arms in the air as the lump skidded across the smooth surface. Xander did a pirouette as he jogged over and kicked the soccer ball sized lump again.

"There he is!" The words sent a chill down his spine. Xander recognized the voice in an instant. Jason Bellamy - dumb as a post, but big and strong and athletic. Physically, he and Jason were opposites. Xander, skinny and unathletic, spent almost all of his spare time reading and playing Nintendo. A couple days earlier, during a geography exam, Jason had been caught copying answers over Xander's shoulder and somehow managed to blame Xander for that.

The twelve-year-old looked up and saw Jason and his buddy, Roger Nice, who typically did very little to live up to his last name. They stood at the end of the alley directly between him and his house. Xander's inner voice told him to turn and flee, just as he had the day before when they spotted him. His second and third instinct also told him to run, but he knew that he'd never outpace these two. Even if he'd been wearing sneakers like them, instead of the heavy rubber over-boots that his mother continued to force upon him all winter long, they'd still catch him. There would be no avoiding the trouble coming his way this time. Xander stood there and waited for the inevitable. At least he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a chase.

An early reader with a high IQ had gotten him promoted ahead one year in school, but having been labeled a brainiac and being smaller than the rest of his classmates hadn't helped his social status very much. His father had been over six feet tall, but so far those genetics hadn't kicked in. His step-dad explained to Xander that bullies were cowards at heart, but as they drew near, neither of these boys looked afraid of him at all.

"Thanks for nothing, Spaceman!" Jason shoved Xander hard. Roger caught him and pushed the much lighter boy back in front of Bellamy. "I got an 'F', because of you."

"I didn't know..." Xander stammered. Behind him, Roger must have gotten down onto his hands and knees. Because this time when Jason shoved Xander he tripped and tumbled over the other boy, sprawling onto the hard snow. The back pack that had been slung over his shoulder skidded across the alley. As he scrambled back to his feet, Roger and Jason laughed and high fived each other.

"I got sent to the Principal's Office, too!" Jason pushed him again. Somehow Xander managed to stay on his feet. Roger picked up Xander's orange and blue bag, unzipped the single zipper and dumped out the contents. An Algebra text, a couple library books, a scribbler, some loose papers and two pencils spilled onto the snow.

"There's nothing good in here," Roger reported, and he kicked the algebra text to the snow ridge on the other side of the alley. Xander watched as loose leaf and hand-out sheets fluttered down the alley in the light breeze.

"Now I'm grounded," the oversized kid grabbed Xander from behind. "You're just lucky I have to get home," he said, yanking the Xander off his feet and flinging him forward.

Xander landed face first onto the frozen lump he'd been kicking. It broke into pieces from the impact. The left side of his face burned. This time he stayed down for a few seconds before rising to his hands and knees.

"Oh Zorg, I'm ready for my afternoon probing." Roger said, in a robotish voice, before kicking Xander in the butt, spilling him onto the cold ground again. Xander listened to them howl with laughter at his expense.

"Come on," Jason told Roger, "If I'm late, my Mom will kill me."

Xander heard their feet crunch away. He stood and wiped the melting slush and ice lumps from his tender face and then brushed off his clothes. Xander gathered the text and library books and tucked them back into his backpack. His papers were scattered, some of them already half way back down the alley. He started chasing them down. Most of the papers had landed on the hard-packed surface. They weren't any worse for wear. As he gathered in the last of them, it turned out to be the one he'd drawn, while sitting by himself during lunch hour, mapping the zigzagging flight path of the mysterious light he had seen. His hand closed into a fist, crumpling the loose leaf into a ball. He threw it against a nearby fence, releasing some of his frustration.

"I wish I'd never seen that stupid light!" Even as the words left his lips, Xander knew they weren't true. In truth, he wasn't truly angry with his friends for deserting him or disappointed in his step-father for calling the UFO, a helicopter - when it clearly wasn't one. He was disappointed in himself. He'd let his life get out of control. Xander walked over, picked the paper ball up, flattened and folded it, before stuffing it into his backpack. He kicked what was left of the snow lump. It shattered into pieces. He just wished he could find a way to stand up for himself. Slinking down alleys and hallways didn't work.

"Bullies are essentially cowards, son." Xander recalled his step-father's words once more. "If you stand up to them, they will leave you alone." It was hard for the skinny kid to imagine that the muscular ex-army man ever had to deal with bullies. Big and strong, with a great sense of humor, everybody who met him loved friendly Bill Bookman. His mother called Bill 'her giant teddy bear'. The boy could hardly remember his real father. He did, however, remember all the nights he heard his mother crying in her bedroom. For years she wouldn't let Xander out of the house alone or even out of her sight. When Bill came along she relaxed and started to feel safe. His mom even stopped following him to school last year. It had been so good to see her happy once more, but now this whole bullying thing was making her over-protective again. Last week, he'd overheard his parents discussing moving and home-schooling options.

Bill had been the best thing that had happened to Xander in the years since his birth father and sister had been killed in a car accident. Bill understood that a boy needed his own space. It didn't hurt that with Bill around, Xander's mother had another person to occupy her time. Even though the former college jock had little in common with his bookworm step-son, Bill always made time for Xander.

Xander thought over the recent confrontation and realized that he hadn't stood up to Jason, at all. He hadn't run away, that part was true. But he hadn't told him that the cheating and grounding was all his own fault. Next time would be different. Maybe.

It had only been two weeks since the incident that changed his life. The event etched into his memory permanently...

That night, the Broncos had been playing the Forty Niners, Bill's favorite team. Yet, when he spotted Xander carrying his new telescope outside, he'd grabbed his jacket and gloves and went outside to help Xander find planets and stars.

"This shouldn't be happening," Xander remembered saying, his face pointed skyward. The December night had felt frosty, but the skies over Denver were cloud-free. The conditions perfect for star gazing. During their search for Jupiter, a strange moving light appeared in the sky. At first he thought they'd spotted a comet. But then it changed course. Xander and Bill Bookman watched with fascination as the light raced across the sky and again made a sharp turn. It zigzagged back and forth at what appeared to be incredible speeds.

"Look it's getting closer," his step-father had pointed.

"This is incredible!" Xander had shouted. There seemed to be a faint oval silhouette around the light, as it zipped across the sky right above them. The large object made a v-shaped turn and sped away.

"What on earth can make course changes like that?" His step-dad shook his head.

"Nothing..." He had replied. Just thinking about it again brought back the feelings of awe and wonder he'd felt at that moment. They watched the light in silence for several more seconds until it finally disappeared over the southern horizon.

After some wild speculation about what they had witnessed, Xander's step-father eventually concluded that it must have been a helicopter from nearby Buckley Air Force Base. Xander had other theories about the mysterious light, though. Certain that no man-made craft could make high-speed, angular course changes like that, Xander knew they'd just witnessed a UFO. At school the next day, he told his best friend Gary what he had seen. That turned out to be a mistake. He had always heard that bad news travels fast, but he soon found out that crazy news does laps around bad. At lunch, everyone stared and pointed. During the afternoon recess a kid named Vince shoved him and somehow they both ended up in the Principal's office. By the end of the day, it seemed as if the entire school knew about the UFO.

Not a member of the popular groups, Xander had never been unpopular before either. Outside of his circle of friends he'd been relatively anonymous. When you don't stand out from the crowd, you don't get picked on. The 'UFO Boy' seemed to have a blinking neon sign shining over his head. Now, even the unpopular kids kept their distance from him.

In the first grade he'd managed to thwart the annoying moniker 'Alexander, the Salamander' by shortening his name to Xander. But now it was back, modified to 'Alexander, the Space Commander', along with many other often nastier nicknames.

Only four more days until Christmas vacation, the straight 'A' student thought to himself as he finally arrived at his home. He'd never looked so forward to getting out of school in his life.

He stomped his boots up and down a couple times on the concrete patio to shake off the accumulated snow and then opened the back door. He stood for a second, contemplating the best time and place to bring up his second visit to the Principal's Office. Xander decided to wait until after dinner. As soon as he stepped inside he could tell something was up. The house smelled of fresh baked brownies, his favorite. His mother only baked for special occasions. She baked apple pie for Bill, angel food cake for herself and made brownies for him...

"Alexander," she called from the kitchen, "Is that you, honey?"

"Yes Mom," he replied, peeling off his boots and jacket. Xander didn't want her to see his latest injury. At least not before he'd assessed the damage himself. Maybe it didn't look too bad. He grabbed his backpack and started for his room.

"I want to talk to you," Mrs. Bookman said, as she appeared at the end of the rear hall blocking his escape.

Xander turned sideways, trying to hide his left eye, but it was too late...

"Heavens to Murgatroyd!" Trisha Bookman exclaimed in horror when she saw her son's face. This was as close to foul language as his mother ever got. "What happened to you?"

"It's nothing," Xander tried to calm his mother down. "I tripped and fell." Not exactly a lie. It was completely annoying, but somehow Mom could always tell when he wasn't truthful. "It doesn't even hurt."

Her arms folded across her chest, she got that familiar steely look in her eyes and Xander knew he'd have to elaborate. "Okay, I was pushed and it does sting, a little bit."

Hugs were usually for his mom's benefit, but Xander had to admit he did feel a lot better after this big one. He knew that the whole situation had been as hard, if not harder, on his mother than him. After the accident she'd changed. Xander had been in kindergarten when it happened. Black ice had been the culprit. The head on accident with a work truck had been terrible. Xander and his mother had been the only survivors. His father, older sister and both men in the truck were instantly killed. His mother had ended up in the hospital for over a month and now had pins in her leg, pelvis and shoulder. Xander had climbed out of the wreckage without a scratch. A miracle. Everyone said he'd been so lucky. But he hadn't felt lucky. He felt guilty. He always rode on the driver's side when the family drove somewhere. That day, he couldn't even remember why any longer, he'd traded places with his sister...

When his mother finally got home she wouldn't let Xander out of her sight. If she could have, she'd have kept him inside a giant bubble. Sports were too dangerous, playing in the street with the other boys in the neighborhood had been out of the question. Xander found the adventure he craved in books and his imagination. Then Bill entered their lives. His mother relaxed a little and Xander managed to venture out of the house alone. Now with all this happening, he was afraid that the old over-protective version of his mother would return.

"This is going to stop," she said.

"I landed on a lump of snow, that's all." Xander explained.

"Your step-dad and I have been worried about you, Kiddo," she kissed his forehead. "You spend so much of your time obsessing about UFOs and aliens. It doesn't seem healthy. Your friends don't stop by anymore. And you won't tell me what is going on in your life."

You don't want to know, Xander thought. "I'll be okay, Mom," was all he could think to say.

"Let's get you cleaned up." She guided him to the bathroom. As his mom gently wiped his face with a warm cloth Xander could see the scratches and beginnings of bruising on his cheek, brow and eyelid in the mirror. Turning his face to the side, he noted that nearly all traces of the earlier injury to his other eye had faded away. This shiner would be huge! Bigger than the last one. There would be a whole new round of pointing and laughter to face at school in the morning.

"Bill and I both feel that a change of scenery would be beneficial for you," Trisha Bookman told her son.

The world slowed to a near halt. This can't be good.

"What do you mean by a change of scenery?" Xander asked.

"I called your Aunt Alice this morning," his mom began.

Xander froze as he waited for more information. Aunt Alice was Bill's sister, so technically she's a step-aunt. The Bookman's had visited the Anderson's three times, since his mom's wedding to Bill. Aunt Alice, Uncle Bart and cousin Yzzie live on a ranch just outside of Sedona, Arizona. Yzzie, thirteen, was also in the seventh grade and seemed pretty cool for a girl. Okay, 'kickass' would be a better description of his dynamic cousin. Some kind of a star athlete and on the student council, the two of them had almost nothing in common.

"And she agrees that it would be a good idea if you stayed with them for a while." Time stopped. Hours or seconds later, he couldn't tell which, his Mother applied some gooey aloe ointment to his face. "Just until we can get relocated and settled in a new place."

Wait, just a second. Relocated? Did I just hear 'until we can get relocated'? Questions and thoughts started flying around in his sore head. Who said anything about moving? Stay on the ranch? For how long? I don't think so, I'm a city kid! Oh, crap... Relocated? A new school... Those brownies do smell good! I love the Anderson's, but live on a ranch? No bullies... Well, that would be okay... What about my friends? Barns and farm animals stink! I need to be near book stores and movie theaters...

"I don't want to move," Xander stated. Well, that was that, he thought, proud of the way he'd finally stood up for himself.

"It has already been decided," his mother informed him, brushing aside his remark. If the seventh grader had come through the front gate, like he used to before the bullying had started, he'd have seen the bright new 'for sale' sign that had been driven into the frozen ground that afternoon. "We leave in the morning."

"What about school?" He asked desperately.

"Principal Wallace thinks this will be best for everyone involved," she explained.

"It's so far away." Xander winced as she applied the ointment to his swelling eyelid.

"Yzzie loves the school there," his mother continued, "and she is absolutely thrilled that you're coming to stay with them..."