mad-scientist hair looked limp and defeated. “That we’d get hard evidence of extraterrestrials and the world would have to take us seriously.”
I realized how much I’d offered him and the other Seekers, and how much I’d taken when they found out it was a lie. A surge of guilt ran through me. Why had I thought it was okay to use their faith in aliens to manipulate them?
“What’s next for you?” I asked.
“There’ve been sightings in the Pacific Northwest,” he said. “We’ll head that way.”
So the Seekers departed but left behind a mess in the town square. Ishmael and I spent days picking up trash. Worse than the trash were bits of paraffin that clung to everything. When the lava lamp exploded, it was like candle wax got dumped all over Main Street. I became very adept at working with a paint scraper.
On a particularly cold afternoon, I was removing paraffin from the window of Super Scoop. Inside, Laser stood behind the counter, watching me and smirking.
As I dragged the paint scraper across the glass, I wondered, for approximately the hundredth time, what would happen next. When the strangers were gone, when the town square was cleaned up, when the lava lamp was dismantled, what then? What would happen to me?
I’d thought my sociological research would get me noticed by MIT—I needed the edge so badly. Deep down, I’d always suspected I wasn’t a good enough candidate on my own. My grades weren’t extraordinary, my extracurriculars were minimal, I didn’t start a company at age nine or invent a life-changing product at age thirteen. I wasn’t special. But maybe, with a sociological paper reporting on an alien abduction, I could be.
When it was revealed to be a hoax, and I was revealed to be behind it, it minimized all of my efforts. I was a fraud. What would MIT want with some fraud practical jokester? And beyond that, what would NASA want with someone who unabashedly broke the law? My record was marred beyond hope.
In my quest for glory I’d sabotaged the career I’d always dreamed of. And I had no one to blame but myself.
For the sake of absolute transparency, I’ll admit that I may have shed a tear or two over this.
I couldn’t remember a time when my future was so unclear. I’d always had a path. I’d always had goals and knew the steps I had to take to achieve them. Now what? Where would I be in the coming years? What would I be?
The question haunted me. While I cleaned the town square, while I tried to get caught up in my classes, while I tossed and turned in bed late at night. I couldn’t stop thinking of my murky future and how, for the first time in my life, I had no direction.
“Hofstadt,” said someone behind me, breaking me from my thoughts.
I glanced back and saw Adam Frykowski.
“Have you gotten my messages?” he asked.
“I have.”
“And what do you think? About giving me an exclusive interview?”
He looked so eager. I knew he was trying to make a career shift, move away from his paranormal news stories to more serious reporting. I felt a little guilty about crushing his hopes. “I’m ninety-six percent sure that’ll never happen.”
I moved away from him and toward the next shop, the next glob of paraffin. He followed.
“I visited Oz,” he said.
I stiffened. “You did?”
“He had a lot to say about you, Hofstadt.”
It didn’t matter what Oswald said about me. I’d moved forward. I’d gotten a grip on the unhealthy emotions that had driven me to compete with him.
Except…
How could I not be curious?
“Fine, I’ll bite. What did he say?”
“I’ll tell you if you give me an exclusive.”
“Forget it.”
“He hates you,” Frykowski spoke up quickly, trying to entice me. “He called you his archenemy.”
“Interesting,” I said as blandly as possible.
I turned away from Frykowski so he wouldn’t see the smile that crept onto my face.
“You really don’t want to know more?” he practically pleaded.
“Nope,” I replied, using the paint scraper to remove another strip of paraffin from the wall. “I’m done with all that.”
I was done with it.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t pleased Oswald finally saw me as a worthy opponent. In the end, neither of us won. But at least he realized I’d been part of the game.
Event: Guidance—Part 2
Date: Nov. 16 (Thurs.)
I wasn’t surprised when Ms. Singh called me in to “have a chat.”
“Things have certainly changed since we last spoke,” she said, getting to the point as soon