Jennifer Chan Is Not Alone: Chapters 9–14

But also, Tess told me, her mom had been struck by lightning, which was unique in a morbid kind of way.

Reagan nodded solemnly.

It seemed pretty weird to have a grudge against shooting stars, but it probably wasn’t any weirder than having a grudge against Ferris wheels.

“She left during a meteor shower, which was a bummer. I ran to her room to tell her about it, and I was so excited—kind of pathetic in hindsight, like, it’s just space junk—but she was gone.”

I’ve never had a conversation with Kath outside of class, and there’s that underlying awkwardness of being in totally different friend groups.

Plus, the “Science Club” only consists of Ingrid and Kath. Everybody knows it’s just a way for them to get club credit while they hang out and Ingrid messes with lab equipment.

So I’m about to barge in—really, I am—when the door opens again, and Kath frowns.

Instinctively, we both turn to Ms. Rodgers, but she just licks a finger and flips a page like nothing happened.

Maybe I need to appeal to their intellectual curiosity.

For a while, the only sound in the room is the flick of Ms. Rodgers’s book as she obliviously turns the page.

When she lays it out like that, in her practical Ingrid way, it seems so obvious. Of course it wasn’t aliens.

“So, you want to look...in outer space?” Kath doesn’t ask it in a mean way. The annoyance on her face has slipped away, and she asks it frankly—a legitimate question.

It’s also the exact size and distance of our sun, which puts us in the minuscule sweet spot for liquid water.

“That’s not necessarily true.”

Maybe I’m starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but I can’t help it. I tell them about the Big Ear and the Wow! signal, trying to recall the details.

“If that’s true...and if your UFO sighting is true...that does sound like something to look into.”
She’s intrigued.

Involuntarily, I reach forward, as if I could grasp her curiosity and tug it back to the surface.

I didn’t know why Reagan had called Jennifer over. Maybe Reagan really did just want to meet her. But it felt cataclysmic, like planets colliding.

I wasn’t the one coming in here, confronting someone in front of their friends, making things totally weird and awkward.

But guilt settled in my stomach, churning with those mashed potatoes, and I couldn’t finish the sentence.

We’re all packed into the chapel, with those hard-back pews, and Principal Vaughn is giving the same speech he gives every week, about teamwork and industrious spirit—but how can we think about anything except the last time we were in here?

“Was that what Kath thinks it was?” Ingrid asks when she reaches us. Her tone is cautious, but there’s that unmistakable lilt of curiosity beneath it, and I can’t stop the hope that catches in my chest.

“And only a handful of people know the key code: me, since I’m the Audio Tech Club president; the chaplains; our club supervisor, Ms. Lucas; and our club VP, Kyle.”

He’s laughing and doing a flailing version of some TikTok dance.

He would’ve had to set the signal earlier today, and he’d have to code it to override the system so Principal Vaughn and Ms. Lucas couldn’t just turn it off.

Mom picks us up, and when we all pile into the car, the feeling of Mom picking my friends and me up from school is so déjà vu that I feel disoriented.

“Hi, girls,” she says in the most normal voice she can muster.

First it was just me, witnessing the UAP. Then it was the school. Now it’s the local radio—encompassing the whole town.

“I forgot you’re the type who doesn’t like to mess up your stuff. Your desk is pretty pristine.”

“Ingrid’s just used to her own room,” Kath says, “which is utter chaos.”
“Organized chaos,” Ingrid insists.
“Still chaos.”

“Malaise?”
“It means ‘a bad feeling,’” Ingrid explains.
Malaise sounds much worse than “bad feeling,” and that uneasiness curdles in my chest.

“Do you think humans could ever evolve to be nice to one another?”
I don’t know how to respond. I don’t remember Ingrid being so cynical.

“We need to consider the logistics of contact. Based on my research, it seems like most scientists in the SETI Institute—the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence—believe the best way to reach aliens is either with radio waves or giant lasers. Radio is obviously gonna be easier for us. But astronomers use giant radio telescopes—basically huge satellite dishes.”

“What about the media tech room in the chapel? They definitely have the technology to send and receive a signal. Input and output.”

Both Ingrid and I turn to Kath, who balks. “We’re only supposed to use the equipment for school-related activities,” she says.