Jennifer Chan Is Not Alone: Chapters 15–24

“Hey there, Jennifer Chan,” he said, enunciating each syllable of her name.

At her blunt, matter-of-fact way of speaking about death, Pete seemed to hesitate.

Some people debate the history of capoeira, but here’s the dominant theory: It was an art back in Africa, a beautiful form of self-defense, practiced freely. But when Africans were enslaved in Brazil, they had to hide that defense in the form of dance.

Some stars are solitary—a single bright spot in the pitch black of space. But some stars come in doubles. They orbit each other, passing so close that their star stuff flows between them.

“I woke up when you left the room, and I thought this was a good opportunity to practice my stealth,” she explains. “I wanted to see if I could sneak up on you.”

“It’s a walkie-talkie, remember? An ancient relic from days past, for covert operations.”

“It’s a walkie-talkie, remember? An ancient relic from days past, for covert operations.”

But I push through the feeling and walk past glass baking trays full of neighbors’ home-cooked meals, past a family of half-full, lipstick-stained ceramic mugs on the counter, past the stale scent of incense and old food that hangs in the air.

Her purple-painted walls are adorned with two posters of astronauts smiling in their NASA suits—Mae Jemison and Leroy Chiao, according to their labels.

“Am I? Because you haven’t found the journals, and you clearly need my help.”
“Fine,” I concede, folding the shirt in my hands.

“We could climb down,” Kath whispers.
“Um...” I stare down at the bushes beneath Jennifer’s window. And then at the very flimsy drainpipe. “No thank you.”

Her sweatshirt billowed unflatteringly around her stomach.

“Mal, don’t be naive. Did you see the way she looked at us that first day? The way she looked at you? She felt bad for you, because she thinks she’s better.”

I can’t tell if her comment is directed at me or if it’s casual, a thought tossed aside.

“Look at this: Jennifer transcribed a quote from a woman who says she was abducted by aliens. ‘It was like an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t escape, not even if I wanted to, and I didn’t want to. My body floated in a bright wash of light, and I could see the whole world, my whole life, and I wasn’t alone.’”

“‘Almost all UFO sightings are concentrated around military areas—and often ones with nuclear testing facilities.’”
Ingrid hesitates. “Well, if the sightings are usually near these facilities, we have to consider the possibility that people are seeing secret military weapons, which they’re mistaking for aliens.”

Famous scientist Carl Sagan once said there were more stars in the universe than all the grains of sand on Earth. I mean, that’s a lot of stars! The chances of intelligent life out there are astronomical.

I’m not announcing it to the whole grade. It’s just Kath and Ingrid, and the chapel’s media tech room is soundproof. But still. This makes me feel self-conscious.

“I believe in aliens, too!”
“What are you doing?” I ask. I kind of think she’s making fun of me, but she shrugs.
“I’m showing solidarity. And, you know, if this is what we need to do to make contact, well...”

“You know my dad and the police are doing a whole search, right?”
“I don’t trust the police,” Kath says.
Pete bristles.

Kids bustle around us in the hallway.

I can actually feel Kath suppressing an eye roll, but it works.

“This will be my redemption,” she deadpans, “even if I have to make do without a walkie.”

Her lips quirked up, hinting at a smirk.

What, does she commune with aliens or something?

If it were up to gravity—one of the few things we’re sure we’re sure about—the universe wouldn’t expand at all. It would actually contract until it implodes, because gravity wants to pull everything closer together.

Obviously, it’s unlikely they’d understand us, but they’d probably understand math, considering those principles are consistent throughout the universe.

Here it is, finally: the reason she hates me. It’s not because I got popular. All I can do is blink as the revelation settles over me.

But even then, those people think UAPs might be alien drones, rather than actual aliens visiting.

The world is out of ratio, like it’s too small or I’m too big, and suddenly all I want is to run out of this room and bury myself in my bed.