I'm actually not really sure what this is about yet. I just thought up a title and figured that it needed a story.
At 11:05 in the morning of the twenty-first of April, Edwin Andersen was taken from his desk in the Spanish classroom, beam-me-up-Scottie-style, into a flying saucer. At least, that was what he told everyone afterwards. Obviously, nobody believed him, especially not Mr. Price, the Spanish teacher, nor any of the other students present in the classroom, all of whom had clearly seen him stand up under his own power and walk out of the door.
While the alien tale was definitely not the best excuse Edwin could have come up with under the circumstances, it certainly attracted attention, which may have been his goal. He had always been one of those individuals that nobody really notices. It was quite possible, until he had blatantly walked out of their class, that many of the other Spanish students had not even realized he was in it in the first place. Teachers consistently marked him absent when he was present and present when he was absent. He just sort of blended into his surroundings like a human chameleon.
I was in Chemistry when the rumor got out via smartphone. I, however, am a good girl and do not look at my phone during class, so I had to wait until the teacher dismissed us to start on our lab before I could ask my lab partner, Nick, what everyone was snickering about.
Nick strapped his goggles on over his glasses. “You know Edwin Andersen?”
“Um, I think…junior, brown hair, kinda tall, never says anything, right?”
“Right. Well, apparently he walked out of Spanish class this morning and turned up on the roof. Claims he got abducted by aliens and taken up to a flying saucer.”
“He was on the roof? What do you think’s gonna happen to him?”
Nick shrugged, striking a match to light the Bunsen burner. “He’ll probably be suspended or something. Doubt they’d expel him.”
“But aliens. I mean, really? How can he expect anyone to believe that? No one believes in flying saucers. They’re not physically feasible.”
Wearing a thoughtful expression, Nick leaned on the lab bench. “That aside, the flying saucer would have had to been hovering over the H building for a good ten minutes. One would think someone would have noticed it.”
“No one inside the H building would have noticed,” I pointed out. “Windows were not in style when that behemoth was built.”
“True enough. Neither was air conditioning.”
“Or earthquake safety,” contributed Bonny, who was working one lab bench over and evidently eavesdropping like usual.
“Or drinking fountains,” I added.
“Or accessibility,” Nick said. “In fact, I don’t think anyone had heard of building codes whenever it was they put the ugly thing there. When was it, the forties?”
“I thought it was the sixties.”
“Either way, elegance was not the name of the game.” He handed me a beaker. “It looks like a freaking parking garage. The aliens probably thought it was some sort of multileveled landing pad.” He made a noise that was evidently supposed to imitate that produced by an alien spacecraft. “’Hey, this looks like a convenient place to land, eh, Gorp? How about we stop a moment to walk around a bit; stretch the tentacles, ya know? Oh my, will you look at that! On the projection, it seems to be full of strange, bipedal beings. How about we beam one up and perform tests upon it!’”
I laughed quietly and went to the sink to fill the beaker with water. Unperturbed, Nick redirected his rant to anyone who would listen. “I mean, what else would aliens do? Why shouldn’t they conform to our sci-fi mythology? Why would they do anything original?”
Bonny looked at him in confusion. “You are making no sense at all.”
He scoffed. “That’s the point!”
“He was being sarcastic,” I explained, returning with the beaker.