unlike anything they’d seen before. For once in my life, I would stand out.
My mind raced with possibilities. Where would we even begin? If this was an experiment, I’d use the scientific method. The first step of which was ask a question.
The question was simple: Could people be convinced that extraterrestrials were real and had made contact in Lansburg?
Could they?
And could I leverage their belief into an acceptance letter from my dream school, which would pave the way into a career at NASA?
Could I?
“So?” Ishmael asked.
I’m sure you’re wondering about my state of mind. I’m sure you’re having doubts about my decision-making skills. But how could I have passed up such a clear-cut opportunity to achieve my goals?
“This is a terrible idea,” I said.
“Terrible…but also brilliant?” Ishmael asked, hope written all over his face.
“Possibly,” I agreed. “Possibly brilliant.”
My brother grinned. He knew he’d won. “Are we doing this? Are we making a hoax?”
I stood up. And before I could change my mind, I nodded solemnly. “Let’s do it.”
Ishmael whooped and punched a fist in the air. Then he asked, “What comes first?”
If he’d paid attention in science class, he would’ve already known that the next step in the scientific method was do background research.
“It’s time to learn more about aliens,” I said.
The internet search history of Gideon Hofstadt on the evening of Sept. 9
aliens
alien abductions
alien hoaxes
most famous hoaxes of all time
ufos
ufo blue prints
weather balloons
project blue book
signs of alien abductions
alien electronic interference
famous alien encounters
phoenix lights
hudson valley sightings
books about aliens
communion
fire in the sky
close encounters
crop circles
betty and barney hill
the andreasson affair
how to keep your relationship secret without offending your boyfriend
alien conspiracies
movies about aliens
area 51
is my judgment impaired?
Text Conversation
Participants: Gideon Hofstadt, Cassidy Robinson
GH: I need a favor.
CR: Your wish is my command
GH: Remember how we discussed aliens earlier?
CR: Lol
CR: You think Id forget that?
GH: How would you feel about doing a little acting?
CR: Oh holy cannoli
CR: Seriously???
CR: What are you planning
CR: Gideon?
CR: Please don’t leave me hanging
CR: Gideooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon!!!!!!!!!!!
GH: I’ll come over tomorrow. I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.
CR: Afraid of someone tracing this conversion?
CR: *conversation
CR: Wait
CR: ARE you afraid of that??
CR: Gideon?
Event: Another Awkward Breakfast
Date: Sept. 10 (Sun.)
Mother and Father should’ve been suspicious when Ishmael willingly got out of bed before 8:00. He and I had work to do, though. I warned him the night before that I’d be waking him early, and it was a testament to his commitment to the hoax that he agreed without a fight.
Father scrambled eggs while Mother made notes in her planner about upcoming meetings with myTality™ distributors. Weekend or not, Mother worked. (Technically, Mother didn’t need to work, thanks to my great-great-grandfather, who’d made a hefty sum of money with a patent for an ultraspeedy corn harvester, and also thanks to subsequent generations who’d made wise investment decisions.)
“Will you be home today?” Mother asked Father. “A large shipment of products is coming, and I don’t want the boxes left on the porch.”
At the stove, Father paused mid-action. “More products? Janie, we’ve got a whole barn filled with myTality boxes. Maybe you should slow down.”
“I won’t have that negativity,” Mother chirped. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pill bottle. “Here. Have a myTality Morning Burst. Vitamin C to help with your blahs.”
“My blahs are just fine, thank you,” Father replied.
I met Ishmael’s gaze across the table. He raised his eyebrows at me. It was time to begin phase one.
“Would you mind if Ishmael and I drove to Pittsburgh today?” I asked casually.
Father glanced over. “For what?”
“I need electronic components for a Science Club project.” It was a lie. I needed supplies for the hoax.
My parents glanced at each other. One of their most annoying talents was the ability to have entire conversations—complete with decision making—without speaking a word.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Mother said.
“Why?” I asked calmly. Throwing a tantrum was never a successful negotiation tactic.
“Because,” Father said, “we don’t trust your brother to drive all the way to Pittsburgh.”
“But Father—” I began.
“If you want to drive long distances, get your license and prove that we can trust you.”
Mother reached across the table and placed her hand over mine. “Honey, we know you’re afraid of driving, but—”
“I’m not afraid,” I said.
Ishmael snorted. I glared at him. We were supposed to be on the same team.
“I’m not,” I repeated. “I just don’t feel compelled to drive.”
“Well, I don’t feel compelled to let your brother drive all the way to Pittsburgh,” Father replied.
I looked at Ishmael, wishing we could have our