ALIENATED: GROUNDED AT GROOM LAKE

Chapter 22: The War of the Worlds

I loitered outside the auditorium, nervously waiting for Juliet to emerge. The hallway was packed with students, shuffling between classes, but I was in my own little world. I spotted a scrunched-up candy wrapper, transparent cellophane. Each time the doors swooshed open it sailed on the breeze, then got sucked back when they swooshed closed. I could see faint AJABot caterpillar-tracks on the linoleum floor, a collection of dust bunnies that might have been mating like, well, you know...and a spider scurrying up its web between the wall socket and the doorstop. It's amazing what you notice when the last thing you want to think about is what you're about to do.

Trying to do.

I was so distracted that I'd even been accidently nice to Jess.

"Excellent acting today," I said as she swanned by with three note-taking Martians in tow.

"Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word," she declared, "do as thou wilt, for I am done with thee." Then she punched me on the arm, stuck out her tongue, and joined the mass of alien life forms bustling down the corridor. She was still annoyed that she was cast in the supporting role of Lady Capulet and not the lead.

As I waited for my Juliet to appear, something tugged at my sleeve. A someone.

"Sherman Capote!" squealed a little Martian, with a wide, toothless grin. He gazed up at me with his giant, shiny black eyes. He'd just eaten a tangerine, or maybe Martians naturally smell of tangerines.

"Um, hi..."

"Klaatu!" he said in his cyber-chipmunk voice. "You remember Klaatu?"

"Oh, hey, Klaatu," I said, shuffling my feet. "I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

"Yes," he agreed. "Standing in the corner, staring into space."

"It's called waiting," I explained.

He pulled a flyer from his little backpack and pressed it into my hands. "Stimulation while you wait! Vital instructional information for the Prom! All must prepare!"

The flyer showed a gigantic mechanical tripod war machine about to smash through London Bridge. It was an old-fashioned, pen-and-ink-style drawing. And above it, written like a vintage newspaper headline, one word:

PROM!

"That's great, thanks Klaatu," I said, just as his jumpsuit started to twinkle, reflecting something iridescently, astonishingly, heartbreakingly blue.

"Hello, Sherman."

My wait was over. I looked up, saw Juliet's luminous, perfect face peering around the auditorium door, and instinctively stuffed the flyer into the back pocket of my jeans.

"Hey, Juliet, I'm...er," I stuttered. "What a coincidence to bump into you here-"

"He was waiting," stated Klaatu.

"Well...I was wondering if, well...would you mind if I asked you about something? If you're not busy?"

Pull yourself together, Capote.

"I was hoping to speak with you, too," Juliet said.

The idea she'd thought about me, even for a moment, caused a burst of happy electricity to tickled me all over, including, strangely, my left butt cheek.

That was actually Klaatu pulling the flyer out of my jeans pocket.

"Store...keep...yes," he said, "but also read! Read the instructional information, Sherman Capote! All must prepare!"