Close Encounters of the Nerd Kind

by Kim Harrington

  Charlie: I’m so sorry. He just sat down and started talking, and I didn’t have the heart to kick him out. Forgive me?

  I chewed on my lower lip. Of course, the whole thing was because Charlie was so nice. He hadn’t abandoned me on purpose. I shouldn’t have thought that, even for a second. I typed back a quick message:

  Totally! No problem!

  Now I only had to stew in the embarrassment of being the one student in a single seat. Some kids had even gone three together. I swallowed hard and looked out the window. The bus started rolling forward.

  My seat shook as someone plunked down next to me. I turned and my mouth opened in surprise.

  Willa flipped her long, shiny black hair over one shoulder. “I wasn’t going to stay squished three to a seat this whole ride. That’s ridiculous.”

  I glanced over at the two girls she’d left behind, who were both pouting and glaring at me as if I’d somehow stolen Willa. In fact, Willa and I had been friends when we were little. As we got older, she got prettier and I got nerdier, and then she dumped me for the mean-girl crew. In order to remake her image as a popular girl, she’d pushed me away. But then she helped Charlie and me rid the town of the monsters that showed up this summer, and that had brought her meanness down from a ten to, like, a five.

  “I’m not in the mood to talk, though,” she said, popping in a pair of earbuds.

  Okay, maybe a seven.

  What I’d learned long ago when we became friends, though, was that Willa wasn’t as mean as she sometimes sounded, she was just really blunt. Like, you wouldn’t ask her if she liked your new haircut unless you wanted the honest truth. But she was also smart and hilarious and had a sixth sense for fashion and style. I missed her friendship after she’d left me behind, and we were starting to get that back. But I wasn’t ready to trust her quite yet.

  Before I knew it, the bus slowed to a stop and I could see the huge white building with the observatory dome on top. My leg started bouncing up and down in my seat. Mr. Durr stood at the front of the bus to give us one last lecture about “appropriate field trip behavior” and “school expectations,” and then we were off.

  Even the lobby of the observatory building was cool. We pushed past the front desk, where a young guy looked completely overwhelmed by the crowd of seventh graders pouring in. Glass cases lined the walls, full of NASA memorabilia—dehydrated astronaut food packets, mission patches, and pins. They even had an actual tire from a Space Shuttle Discovery flying mission. I was so enthralled that I’d almost forgotten I was with other people until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “Bex,” Charlie said. “This way.”

  I followed Charlie to a corner on the opposite side of the room where an actual meteorite was mounted that you were allowed to touch. I waited my turn and then slid my finger along the smooth, dark rock. This thing had traveled millions of miles through space and burned through our atmosphere to land on Earth. That was quite a trip. Maybe even worse than taking a school bus.

  “Check it out,” Charlie said, pulling me toward another corner. He was like a kid on Christmas morning, except all of the presents were unwrapped and were totally nerdy. “This scale tells you what you’d weigh on other planets.”

  “Let’s see what I would weigh on Mars,” I said, stepping on the platform.

  Charlie pressed a couple buttons and selected Mars. “On Mars, where there’s less gravity than on Earth, you would weigh thirty-four pounds.” He pressed a different button. “But on Jupiter? Two hundred, twelve pounds.”

  I chuckled. “This place is so cool.”

  Mr. Durr clapped from the center of the room to get our attention. “Okay, kids. Time to line up to take turns looking through the telescope. Remember, I expect your best behavior. Dr. Maria McCafferty, the observatory’s astronomer, will take it from here.”

  A tall, thin woman with long blonde hair stepped up next to our teacher. “You can call me Dr. Maria. Tonight, we’ll be looking at three space objects. We’ll look at the moon last because it’s so bright that your eyes will take a while to adjust afterward. First, we’ll gaze at the Ring Nebula. Can anyone tell me what a nebula is?”

  Charlie’s hand shot up into the air. “A cloud of gas and dust.”

  “Correct,” Dr. Maria said with a smile. “The Ring Nebula was formed from a dying star. It’s two thousand light-years away, but you’re each going to get a chance to see it now.”

  Charlie’s face looked like he’d just won the lottery.

  But his excitement waned twenty minutes later when we were still in line and hadn’t yet had our turn. The line snaked up a curved, narrow staircase to the observation area where the giant telescope stood waiting. The dome of the observatory was open, and I rubbed my arms against the chill in the air. The sky looked different up here. It went on and on, like a never-ending display of twinkling lights.

  It gave me an idea.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it up to show Charlie. “I know what we can do to pass the time.”

  His eyes lit up. “Great idea! I still haven’t played at night yet. This is going to be cool.”

  We opened the Alien Invasion game on both of our phones and chose Nighttime Mode. I held my phone up to the sky and the star map filled in what I was seeing. Mars hung low in the sky, rusty red. The angled W of Cassiopeia glowed brightly.

  “So cool,” Charlie said. “Why haven’t I made time to do this yet?”

  “Well, you’ve been busy.” I tried to make it sound like a fact and not me whining.

  He grinned. “Should we summon the aliens?”

  I grinned right back. “Let’s do it.”

  I pressed the Summon button, and moments later the screen filled up with alien spaceships of all kinds drifting from various corners of the galaxy. I used the precise laser on single ships and the mega-laser on groups of ships. You only got so many tries with the mega-laser, so you had to use it only when you really needed it. But I’d figured all of this out the first day I’d had the game. By now, it was automatic.

  The sky was cleared of any threats in less than ninety seconds, my new record. The screen lit up with the message, YOU SAVED THE EARTH. Charlie still wasn’t done, so I gave him some tips as he finished the mission.

  Then it was our turn at the telescope. Perfect timing!

  I took only about ten seconds because I didn’t want to make all the kids behind me wait too long. The Ring Nebula looked like a bluish-gray doughnut in space, but it was pretty cool to think about how far away it was and that an exploding or dying star had caused it.

  When all the kids had seen it, Dr. Maria took a moment to tell us what we would be looking at next. “So, who wants to see a star?” she called out.

  All the kids whooped and clapped.

  “Vega is a blue-white star. It’s the fifth-brightest star in our sky. And, as far as star distances go, it’s pretty close. Only twenty-five light-years away. Do you know what that means?”

  Again, Charlie’s hand shot up. “If we could move at the speed of light, which we currently can’t, it would still take twenty-five years to get there.”

  “Correct again.” Dr. Maria gave him a “teacher’s favorite” smile. Though in this case, it would be an astronomer’s favorite. “The light from Vega that we’re going to see right now left the star twenty-five years ago.”

  A chorus of “wows” came from the crowd as we shuffled back into a line.

  Charlie was super-pumped again. Unfortunately, the line moved super slowly again. Dr. Maria did her best to chat with the kids who were waiting, though, to make the time seem to go by faster. Charlie examined all the machines and monitors along the way. When it was almost our turn, he cocked his head at an interesting-looking one near the telescope. The machine had no top on it, just a bunch of exposed wires.

  “What’s the machine with all the wires?” he asked Dr. Maria as she walked by.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing yet.”

  �
�What will it be?”

  “Well, if I can get it to work … ” She paused like she was trying to figure out a way to explain it. “Some equipment is to detect life in the universe. To search. To listen.” Then she pointed to the machine. “This one is to talk.”

  Charlie rubbed his chin. “So this device is to signal in case someone is searching for us.”

  “Exactly!” She smiled, genuinely pleased with Charlie’s interest. Then her smile fell. “But, like I said, it’s a work in progress. And many of my colleagues think we should stay quiet and not let extraterrestrials know we’re here.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “So they don’t invade us,” Willa said from behind me. “Haven’t you seen any sci-fi movies?”

  Charlie spoke up again, “It’s like that famous Stephen Hawking quote. ‘If aliens visit us, the outcome would be much as when Columbus landed in America, which didn’t turn out well for the Native Americans.’”

  Impressed again, Dr. Maria’s eyebrows rose. “Food for thought, young man. But right now, it’s your turn.”

  While Charlie tiptoed up to the eyepiece of the giant telescope, I launched Alien Invasion again. I selected Nighttime Mode and looked around with the star map. I’d wait to hit the Summon button until after my turn at the telescope.

  The kids behind me were getting restless, their voices getting louder the longer they had to wait. But that didn’t matter to me, because Charlie had finished and finally it was my turn.

  I leaned my face up to the eyepiece, blinked quickly, and then focused my sight. Vega was a beautiful, bright blue. Other kids had described it as twinkling, but to me it seemed like the star shimmered.

  “Come on!” a voice from the back cried. “Hurry up!”

  I’d had only a few seconds with it. But everyone was getting bored and sick of waiting, and that only brought trouble. So I finished up and stepped to the side, near Dr. Maria’s half-constructed machine.

  A jostling started near the back of the line.

  “Hey, no pushing!” someone yelled.

  But, of course, someone else pushed in response. One kid fell, and, because they were packed in so tightly, the rest toppled over like tumbling dominoes. I had my phone in my hand, and when someone slammed into me, I accidentally hit the Summon button as I went down. My head bonked off the side of the giant telescope and my phone flew onto Dr. Maria’s mystery machine.

  Great. The invasion was going to start, but I wouldn’t be able to shoot down the aliens because I wasn’t ready. By the time I righted myself and plucked my phone from between two wires, forty-five seconds had passed with zero aliens lasered. This was going to hurt my speed and accuracy averages.

  I groaned and left the telescope platform. The lobby was much more appealing right now. There was actually room to breathe. My head throbbed where I’d hit it against the telescope. And when I finally had a moment to focus on the game in my hand, I saw that I’d failed the mission. For the first time, the screen didn’t give me the congratulatory message it usually did when a level ended.

  This time, it said, YOU DOOMED THE EARTH.

  The bus brought us back to the school parking lot. Charlie and I could have walked home; we lived close enough. But because it was late, our parents insisted on us getting a ride home. Charlie’s mom was going to pass by on her way back from the late shift at the hospital, so she’d volunteered. But she was late.

  I crossed my arms and exhaled loudly. “If we walked, we would’ve been home by now.”

  Charlie shook his head. “Parents. Always doing annoying stuff like making sure we’re safe.”

  I gave him a look, and he gave me one right back.

  “So what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.

  I rubbed the side of my head. It was a little tender, but no harm done. “Nothing. Why, do you want to hang out? We could play Alien Invasion at the park, fix my score averages.”

  “I have a football game,” he said, shuffling from one foot to the other. “I was hoping you would come.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying not to let the disappointment show in my voice. “Sure.”

  “It’s just that … ” he hesitated. “I’m a little nervous.”

  My heart clenched. “No reason to be nervous! I’ll be there, waving like an idiot from the stands.”

  He smiled from ear to ear. “Thanks.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe you’re the quarterback.”

  “Backup quarterback.”

  “Still.”

  “I probably won’t even play. I’ll probably sit on the bench the whole game.”

  “Still! A few weeks ago you didn’t even know how many points were in a touchdown, and now you’re part of the team.”

  A bashful smile formed on his face. “Well, it turns out throwing the ball accurately is really just physics. You see the player who needs the ball and then it’s a matter of what speed and degree to get it there. Plus, I’m great at memorizing the playbook.”

  I elbowed him in the side. “I’m so glad you’re still a nerd.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Always.”

  “I’ll be there tomorrow,” I said.

  His mom pulled up in her white SUV and rolled down the window. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”

  “It’s okay,” Charlie said. “Only three people tried to kidnap us.”

  She laughed and waved to Mr. Durr, who was waiting by the now-empty school bus to make sure everyone got picked up okay. As we climbed into the backseat, Mrs. Tepper gave me a quick hello. She was still wearing her navy-blue scrubs.

  Once the car started moving, Mrs. Tepper began her usual barrage of questions. “So how was it? Did you like the telescope? Was the astronomer nice? What did you see?”

  Charlie ignored the first few questions and focused on the last one, describing the Ring Nebula and Vega. We never got to see the moon as planned because the class had failed the whole “good behavior” thing. Apparently, pushing and shoving gets you kicked out of an observatory.

  The car pulled into the Teppers’ driveway, and I hopped out. “Thanks for the ride!”

  “See you tomorrow!” Charlie reminded me.

  “I’ll be the loudest fan in the bleachers,” I lied. I’d go, of course. But, unless Charlie actually went in, I’d probably play games on my phone the whole time and clap when everyone else clapped.

  Speaking of games, I probably had time for one last Alien Invasion level before going inside. It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful, clear night.

  I wound around my house, passing the living room window, where a blue flickering light told me my parents were watching TV, and headed into the backyard. It was quiet and peaceful, with only the distant sound of a cricket chirping. Under the light of the half moon, I slid my phone out and opened the game.

  Holding the phone up to the sky, I slowly turned in a circle, taking in all the star map had to offer. Constellations and stars were labeled. I even found Vega again. I’d never been as much of a science nerd as Charlie. I was more of a gamer geek. But tonight I understood his fascination.

  Suddenly, I froze in place. I had the eerie sense that someone was watching me. I was facing the back of my house, phone held high. I quickly glanced at all the windows and didn’t see anyone looking out. But I didn’t expect to. It felt like someone was behind me.

  Little hairs stood up on the back of my neck under my ponytail. Stop it, Bex, I said to myself. You’re being paranoid. No one was outside, hanging around my backyard. And the woods lining the edge of our property weren’t like real woods that stretched for distances and had actual, scary animals in them. The trees just gave the house some privacy from the street on the other side. There was nothing there.

  But then I heard a noise, like a careful footstep on a crackly dead leaf.

  Your mind is playing tricks on you, I thought. Just turn and see that no one’s there. I spun around, expecting to see nothing. Or, at worst, Charlie trying to sneak up to scare me. />
  What I did not expect to see was an alien.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Apparently I’d hit my head harder than I’d thought at the observatory. This was a hallucination. It had to be. I took a deep breath and reopened my eyes. But the alien was still there, looking at me like I was crazy. Or, at least, I thought it was an alien. It didn’t look like any of the monsters I’d met this summer. It looked more like one of the alien species from Alien Invasion.

  It had three legs, like a camera tripod, and a long, ribbed neck, on top of which sat a square head. Its eyes were on its neck. Above, on its face, were its mouth and a hole I assumed served as a nose. It had no hair anywhere, and its skin was pale blue and almost translucent. I could see veins and stuff underneath. The whole package was really gross, actually. It wasn’t wearing any clothes but, thankfully, it had as much private business as a Ken doll. I really didn’t need to see alien privates right now—I was traumatized enough as it was.

  It took a step toward me, and I instinctively took a quick step back.

  Then another creature emerged from the woods, breathing heavily, like it had jogged there and was out of shape. This alien looked different, more like me. It also had three legs—so weird—but its face stuff was all in the right, human order, and it had a bird’s nest–looking thing on the top of its head that I assumed was badly styled hair.

  The uglier alien looked at the new alien and even though its face was, like, upside down, I recognized the expression. Fear. Why was one alien afraid of the other one?

  “Um, hi,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’m Bex. I’m a human. I’m peaceful.”

  The way they stared reminded me of William Shakespaw, my neighbor’s dog. Sometimes I’d chat him up, and he’d stare at my mouth, cocking his head to the side, like he was waiting to pick out any words he recognized.

  Then one of the aliens responded. The uglier, upside-down faced one. It made a strange clicking sound with its mouth. Bad-hair alien responded with its own clicking sounds, though they were deeper and more ominous. Then Upside-Down Face increased its clicking and put its skinny arms on its sides. Oh, that one was upset. No doubt.