American Girl On Saturn by Nikki Godwin

boy” Zayn can sing…and draw. Jules isn’t even that talented. He’s just here to fit the quota, I guess.
    Benji’s blonde eyebrows narrow together then his eyes widen.
    “Yes!” he says. “Mutated Arteries or something? That guy has the red and black hair. They’re effed up.”
    “ Mutilated Arteries,” Emery, of all people, corrects Benji. “It’s Mutilated. And that is my sister’s favorite band, so you need to be nice.”
    She grabs the remote and pauses her forgotten DVD. The screen freezes on a woman who is far too old to be holding that “ I want to date and mate with Tate ” poster. She’s old enough to pass for Tate’s mom.
    “Thank you, Emery,” Aralie says. She pushes herself off of the sectional and crosses the room to standoff with Jules. “At least my band actually plays their own instruments. It’s more than I’ve seen any of your band do.”
    Milo clears his throat next to me, but I shake my head. He doesn’t need to jump into this battle. Instead, Benji does. Of course he would. He has to defend Jenji. This is one of those moments that calls for an epic eye roll, but I don’t want to break my attention away from them.
    “I can play piano,” Benji says. “Milo plays guitar. Noah can play the drums. We do actually have other talents, just for the record.”
    Aralie laughs. “Then what talent does Jules have? I didn’t hear his name in your little instrumental list, and he sure as hell doesn’t have the best voice of you guys.”
    Milo squirms around next to me, readjusting his T-shirt and glancing awkwardly around the room. Tate pulls his legs up toward his chest and buries his face into his knees. Emery swaps panicked expressions with Noah. I feel exactly how they all look.
    Benji folds his arms over his chest, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to defend Jules to the death. But he glances in our direction. Emery pouts her lips, and her eyes widen with this sad-faced-doe look, and Benji sits back down. Did Emery seriously just put a dent in Jenji?! Holy hell. Why must we be on lockdown? The Twitter-verse needs to know that my baby sister just burst the Jenji bromance bubble.
    Jules shakes his head and laughs. It’s almost condescending.
    “When you’re an international superstar, then you can bitch about whether someone has talent,” he says, stepping a bit too close to Aralie. “You’re just a pretty rocker girl who wants a badass rocker boy.”
    Aralie shoves Jules with both hands, slamming him back into the sectional and crushing the right half of Benji’s body. Benji pushes Jules off of him and dashes toward the safety zone – with us. He sits next to Emery, and she snuggles up between him and Noah like she’s in boyband heaven.
    “At least when I find me a badass rocker boy, he’ll know how to do more than stand on a stage and try to look good while his band mates out-sing him!” Aralie’s voice rises to an octave that I’m not sure even Milo could hit.
    Jules jumps up again but doesn’t advance toward my sister.
    “This is bullshit!” he shouts. “I should be out there living our DVD, not watching the damn thing on lockdown!”
    “Well,” Aralie says, crossing her arms. “I can’t blame them for shooting at a jerkoff like you!”
    Through the cursing and shouting match, Emery hasn’t winced – until Aralie said ‘ jerkoff.’
    “ Uhh, Aralie?” Emery speaks up. “Remember what Mom said? You’re supposed to say ‘jerkface’ if I’m in the room.”
    Oh, Emery. Why? Why must you taunt Aralie when she’s two breaths away from slamming her fist into Jules’s face and making his eyebrow ring meet his skull?
    “Shut up!” Aralie shrieks.
    Mom rushes into the room, arms flailing and jaw dropped. She’s really slacking off on her refereeing skills. She never takes this long to enter a shouting match. Aralie and Jules remain as statues, still facing off next to the frozen image of a cougar who wants to mate with Tate.
    “Okay, okay, let’s just