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“I,” Corey complains as he trudges over the crest of the hill before Lookout Point at the butt crack of dawn, “cannot believe you managed to get us all out here for this bullshit.”
Mason is quick to pop up on his heels and, just as promptly, stumble into his boyfriend’s back when the chameleon pulls to a halt. Mason narrows his eyes suspiciously at the display before him and takes it all in: the oversized Sponge Bob-printed beach towel in lieu of a picnic blanket; the giant eco tote filled with processed salty snacks; the frankly concerning number of coiled phone cords stemming from the toaster-like contraption off to the side; and at the center of it all, Alec and Lori cross-legged with their shoulders pressed together, the two pups glancing over behind them in equal parts uncontainable and sheepish excitement.
“I thought Alec was having a breakdown,” Mason says.
“So did I,” says Corey. He points a finger accusingly at the two wolves still seated on the towel. “Apparently not the kind of breakdown that I personally signed up for.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Alec trills, sounding anything but apologetic, “but I’m losing my freaking mind over here over our findings.”
“Your—your findings?” Mason ventures.
Lori points to the accursed contraption, teeth still embedded in a particularly chewy cluster of swedish fish, and has to talk around the snack in her mouth. “Look at the motion detector screen. Shit’s going crazy.”
“Well, of course it is. You two are pointing that thing at a live city full of moving people,” Corey says crossly.
Mason’s eyes are wide as he takes another look at the gear setup and realizes just what he’s witnessing. He slaps a hand over his boyfriend’s bicep. “No. No, Cor, it’s not just any motion detector. It’s an alien motion detection system.”
“...System,” Corey repeats dubiously.
Alec’s face is creased with glee. “Not all the parts of the original thing were working, but I ain’t an electrical genius for nothing, so it wasn’t anything that a couple of old cords and a little rewiring couldn’t fix!” He picks up the end of one of the…ramen-noodle looking protrusions, for lack of a better descriptor, and waggles it around in pride.
Lori gulps down the rest of her candy and beams at the newcomers. “Did y’all know he won the freshman science fair presentation last year?”
“Theo told us,” Mason admits. “I just wasn’t sure if he was telling us in his deadpan-because-I’m-pulling-your-leg voice or his deadpan-because-I-don’t-know-how-to-express-emotions voice.”
“I resent that, actually,” a high-pitched and breathless Liam huffs from several feet behind them. “FYI, Theo also has a deadpan-because-nobody-wants-to-know-I’m-embarrassed voice.”
As one, the four gathered at Lookout Point swivel to catch sight of the beta jogging up to the them, with none other than his cross-looking chauffeur, anchor, boyfriend, chimera boxing partner, and life choice critic extraordinaire plodding more sedately behind him.
As to be expected, Theo’s expression upon reaching the top of Lookout Point and absorbing the scene before him is chronically unimpressed.
It takes another few seconds for Liam to tag the irritated dip in Theo’s scent and to clock the cause of it, but when he does, his visage performs a complicated loop-de-loop from nonplussed to disbelieving to impressed to exhilarated. The contrast between his vibrating energy and that of Theo—his hands shoved noncommittally in the pockets of his jacket—is comical.
“Is that,” Liam intones reverently, “an alien motion detection system?”
“Knew there was a reason I sorta liked you,” Alec says, hardly pausing to digest how Liam’s face briefly crumples in an affronted look. “Take a look at how I rigged this thing. This baby be catching all the alien movement!”
“You said you were having a breakdown because of Monroe,” Theo interrupts bluntly.
Alec waves a dismissive hand in his direction. “I said I was having a breakdown. I’m not responsible for how you played Mad Libs with my text and filled in the blanks.”
Corey and Theo exchange a look, for once in their lives completely on the same side. Seemingly emboldened by his unlikely supporter, Corey digs his phone out of his pocket and shoves the screen in Alec’s face as proof. “Look!” he snaps. “It’s right here, in the group chat. You can’t not have known what you were doing.”
fordo baggins [alec gonzalez]: may or may not be having a breakdown @ the preserve
fordo baggins: this could be my last night on earth but even hunters couldnt take this beauty away from me
fordo baggins: [img]
fordo baggins: my eyes r swollen from crying
Alec flicks through the group chat once with his pointer finger and hums. “What can I say? The beauty of the UFO lights got to me.”
Theo snatches Corey’s phone from Alec’s shameless hands and clicks on the photo to shove it further in his face. It’s a blurry shot of oversized glowing stars in the sky, a rare occurrence in the increasingly light-polluted Beacon Hills night view, and it was obviously taken from the perspective of someone lying down—sprawled, even—across a forest floor. Presumably alone. And presumably bleeding out and delirious and left to die.
Lori jabs her finger at the screen supportively. “Look at those gigantic lights. What did we say? It’s gotta be UFO’s.”
“If I don’t get an explanation in thirty seconds of this bullshit and why you’ve dragged us all out here to witness it, your head is going to be the next UFO,” Theo threatens Alec.
At his side, Liam looks equally alarmed and impressed by the vitriol in his boyfriend’s voice.
Ever the peacemaker when Corey is the cross one, Mason flings out his hands placatingly. “Hold on, hold on, no need for senseless violence just yet.” He ignores the chimera’s muttered rebuttal that the violence is neither senseless nor unjustified. “We hardly get together in person these days, and besides, it’s summer! We don’t have anywhere to be early tomorrow morning! Why can’t we all just hang out like good chums and sit on our picnic blanket and just enjoy some alien-gazing for a little bit?”
“Alien-gazing,” Theo repeats incredulously.
Missing the point entirely, Liam parrots, “Picnic blanket?” with a pointed and judgmental look at the Sponge Bob towel underneath Alec’s and Lori’s butts. Still, his nose leads him to the next attraction of the night—the bag of snacks—and he dives forward without further questions to join the puppies on the ground. A moment later, Mason plops down next to him with a grin.
But Theo is obstinate, and as he digs his heels in, so does Corey.
“Aliens don’t exist,” says Theo. “Christ, I knew I’m the only one with a fully functional brain cell around here, but I can’t believe I have to explain even this to you.”
Liam side-eyes him. “You grew up with a Nazi werelion floating in a tank next to you and you raised Corey from the dead with a syringe, and yet you draw the line at aliens?”
“He’s right,” Corey argues back. “Every time there’s been some so-called ‘alien sighting’ in history, there’s been at least one, if not a dozen, scientific explanations for it.”
“Right,” Mason says dryly, “like…three pseudoscientists who drink immortal serum and teleport via radio frequencies.”
“What did Corey say? Scientific,” says Theo.
“And perchance, might you explain how the existence of aliens is not scientific?” Alec demands.
“The Doctors could have traveled anywhere with the powers they’d developed, and yet they only stayed on earth. I wonder why that is. Oh, that’s right. Because life on other planets doesn’t exist,” Theo says snidely.
Liam has a hand over his heart in exaggerated palpitation. “Thank G-d you ended that sentence sensibly. For a hot minute there I thought you were gonna say other planets didn’t exist.”
Lori points accusingly at Theo. “He might as well have. He’s a secret flat-earther.”
“Nothing secret about that,” says Brett, scaring the ever-loving crap out of them all as he materializes from the treeline. “The earth is flat.”
Liam throws his hands in the air with a scowl.
Brett’s gaze casts about disinterestedly and then lands on Alec. He hums. “You’re not dead.”
“Clearly not,” says Alec. “You guys’ reading comprehension skills are fucked.”
“Forgive me for thinking of the worst case scenario and having an actual plan of action, unlike any of you dumbasses,” says Theo.
Alec squints at him. “I recall Liam being the one to run up the hill, not you.”
Theo bares his teeth in an approximation of a smile. “Well, it’s you.”
“What are we watching?” Brett interrupts, stepping directly between Alec and Lori to shove their shoulders and thighs apart and toe at the delicately balanced alien contraption. “Alien sex?”
“Must you always be so gutter-minded?” Lori asks with disgust.
“If it ain’t horny, it don’t interest me,” Brett says with a shrug.
Liam and Mason are scrunching up their faces at each other. “Alien’s don’t just have sex, you know,” Liam speaks up, totally not helping any of their cases. “They can probe other things…besides…orifices. Like. They could be probing the openings in our atmosphere.”
At the two seconds of dead silence that ensue, Liam tacks on, “Scientifically.”
Mason nods vigorously in support of his best friend. “’Cause, y’know, global warming and ozone degeneration and shit.”
Corey looks like he has never wanted to both kiss and throttle his boyfriend more.
“All right, I’ll bite,” Theo says as he folds his arms across his chest and gives them all that smug smile that makes Liam want him to eat shit sometimes. “If indeed there were aliens and they were close enough to our atmosphere to set off a motion detector…then why don’t they ever affect human activity?”
This preposterous statement provokes a round of gasps from the seated teens, most notably Alec, Lori, Liam, and (with a furtive and apologetic glance in Corey’s direction) Mason.
“Of course their presence affects our activity!” Alec is gesticulating wildly in the air now, the back of his hand slapping against Brett’s jean-clad leg. “Why do our socks disappear? How come dogs are possessed to eat our homework? Why do toasters burn our bread no matter what setting we put them on?”
“Skill issue,” Corey says primly.
Alec serves him the stink eye.
“Okay, but what about the weird Nazca Lines in Peru?” says Lori.
“The ancient Incas were addicted to carving shit and had too much time on their hands,” says Theo.
Liam gives a sharp and affronted gasp.
Theo rolls his eyes. “No, wait, that was the wrong answer. What do you want me to say, Liam? That Machu Picchu was built by fucking aliens?”
“Their quipu records and centuries of art depicted encounters with otherworldly creatures!” Liam all but screeches. “So yeah, Machu Picchu could fucking very well have been built with the help of aliens!”
“Jesus, Dunbar,” Brett says, horror tingeing how impressed he sounds by the beta’s passion. “Never took you for the Spielberg diehard type.”
“That horrid excuse for a movie was about the Maya, not the Incas,” Liam says crossly. “Get your facts straight.”
“Oh, so I suppose the Maya weren’t special enough to be graced with the presence of aliens,” says Theo.
“No, they clearly had contact with avian shapeshifters. G-d, I’d say talking to you all is like talking to a bunch of toddlers, except that’s an insult to toddlers around the world,” says Liam.
Lori has been watching the exchange with an almost demonic gleam of interest in her eye. “Also, don’t forget about Stonehenge,” she pipes up, like tossing another grenade into the conversation.
“As I said. Too many people with too much time on their hands,” Theo says through gritted teeth.
“And also a fanaticism for gigantic religious symbols,” Corey adds helpfully.
“Okay, but—” Liam holds up a finger like he’s finally found the ace in his deck. “Consider this: Easter Island.”
Theo and Brett blink down at Liam in unison.
“What’d they do there, lay a bunch of giant glowing eggs?” Brett asks.
Liam’s hands flail about, coming just short of tearing his own hair out. When Mason offers him a sympathetic pat on the back, the beta resorts to seeking comfort from him by pounding his forehead against his best friend’s shoulder.
“Google,” Liam mumbles into the fuzzy material of Mason’s juniper green hoodie, “is too good for you shits.”
“What Liam is trying to say is that on Easter Island, there are these humongous carved statues of heads that were somehow dragged across the island and then buried halfway through the ground. Without tools.”
Liam’s instructional finger points up in the air once again as he continues ranting into Mason’s shoulder. “And they remain standing to this day!”
“And you all are forgetting the best part,” Lori goads him with wide eyes.
“There’s no one on the island! There hasn’t been anyone on the island in decades, possibly centuries! When the Dutch colonizers landed there, there were signs that there had once been life, but not a single living soul could be found! Not even a freaking corpse!”
To his credit, Corey’s scrunched-up little scowl that Mason finds cute on normal days has begun to smoothen out into a pensive look. For his part, Theo looks like he wants to bone Liam over his strong and misguided opinions regarding alien influence on an Ecuadorian island and doesn’t know how to feel about this discovery about himself.
“Please don’t tell me Liam is ranting about Easter Island again,” Hayden says.
The group erupts intermittently into cheers and groans at the appearance of the last—and, per usual, fashionably late—member of their so-called puppy pack. Hayden is wearing a frayed, cropped denim jacket that looks like someone with an ill-advised vision and too much bottled-up rage took a hack at it more than once with blunt scissors. Her hands are shoved in the pockets of her equally distressed shorts, which—considering how much she’s shivering and how irritated her general aura is, is safe to assume she’d been wearing at home before Alec’s wildly ambiguous text summoned her from the ether.
“You’re supposed to be living, like, forty-five minutes from Beacon Hills,” Alec says blankly.
“Exactly,” Hayden says with an oof as Lori springs up and koala’s around her in a giant girl hug. “Which is why you are going to explain how the fuck you led me to think you were dying out here in the Preserve and no one else was answering so I was going to have to spend the last of this month’s gas budget to save your sorry ass.”
Mason winces. “Okay, she does have a point. Next time, I think at least one or two of us should be designated to answer in the group chat when we’re gearing up for a rescue operation.”
Alec crosses his arms over his chest and jerks his chin in Theo’s direction. “He should do it.”
“Sure,” Theo agrees mildly. “If you feel like being strangled to death via garrote when I find out you’ve raised a false alarm. Again.”
“On second thought, Liam is probably a better choice,” Alec amends with a grimace.
Hayden scoffs. “Liam has got, like, the worst tone indicators by text, right after you.”
“Hey!” Liam exclaims, not for the first or the last time in this never-ending stint as stand-in alpha and puppy pack punching bag. “My tone indicators are just fine.”
“I got a little problem, Theo,” the older chimera mimics him in a high-pitched voice. “I may or may not be stranded a couple miles from school, Theo.”
“Was that the time Liam was out near San Francisco with a flat tire?” says Corey.
Theo nods and gestures demonstratively at his idiot of a boyfriend as if to say, behold ye, the travails I must suffer for the sake of this dumbass’s biceps and beguiling smile.
“Okay, but the flat tire was definitely not my fault,” Liam argues hotly. “Everything was going fine with my car. Nothing should’ve happened. One could almost say it felt like…an alien intervention.”
Theo stares at him, deadpan. “No, Liam. It felt like you forgot to check the tire pressure gauge before running off on a solo road trip to the Yamada pack.”
“Sounds to me like you’re not being a very supportive boyfriend, boyfriend,” Liam says with a pout.
Theo rolls his eyes. “Save it, Dunbar. The paranoia is my shtick, not yours.”
“It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you.”
“Are we done yet?” Hayden complains. She’s been rooting around in the eco bag for her favorite brand of pretzels, of which there is apparently only a third of a plastic bag left. She wrinkles her nose but opens it up and starts crunching noisily anyway. “I was kinda busy when Alec so rudely disrupted our lives.”
“I can’t believe this,” Alec says. He has his face in his hands. “Like. For real. I can’t believe this.” When he draws his fingers down his cheeks, leaving red streaks of pressure in their wake, his visage shows nothing but betrayal. “Here I was, a poor orphan kid so happy to find a pack of like-minded people. And then—and then only to be confronted with this.”
“People with common sense and schedules of their own?” Brett says dryly.
“You’re a denialist!” Alec cries. He jabs his finger in Theo’s and Hayden’s direction, too. “And you guys! You’re no better.”
“Oh, and what does that make you?” Corey asks, genuinely curious.
“Alien truthers,” Mason tells him with a sage nod. “Babe, it’s the only right way to go.”
“We’re—tabling this discussion for later, right, babe?”
Alec continues to pingpong his gaze among the so-called alien denialists, his eyes narrowed. “Well, what do you know. It seems like all the chimeras and former chimeras have denialism in common. What happened, did the Doctors inject fucking imbecile juice in y’all when they operated on you?”
“I think they injected us with a healthy sense of don’t go poking your nose where it might end up getting cut off, actually,” Theo says, blasé.
“Let’s make one thing clear. I’m not a denialist of anything,” Hayden interjects. “I’m just pissed that you all interrupted one of the most important conversations of my life.”
That statement arrests the attention of Lori and nearly everyone else present.
“Girl,” Lori says, barely containing a squeal. “Is it—?”
Mason’s eyes blow wide when he catches on to Lori’s implication. “Oh, my G-d.”
Corey looks at him, desperate to be in on the gossip. “What? What, babe.”
Even Liam starts whacking his best friend in the arm to spill the beans.
Lori starts clapping her hands together. “Haydie, did you—?”
“Sort of.”
“Was it—?”
“Not really.”
“Wait, for real?”
“Yeah, no.”
“But she—”
“Almost, but not quite.”
“Excuse me, she?” Corey interrupts loudly. “Are we—are we talking about Hayden finally acknowledging her lesbian desires?”
Off to the side, Theo crumples in the world’s most visible embodiment of a cringe.
“Okay, I’ll admit, maybe our little extraterrestrial talks can wait for a little bit,” says Alec, leaning forward in intrigue.
Brett scoffs. “Seems like the only extraterrestrial thing she’s down to talk about is extraterrestrial pussy.”
There’s a beat of horrified silence, and then the group erupts into eww’s and fuck you’s and—particularly from his little sister as she pelts his head with grapes from her snack bag—you’re a g-ddamn disgrace to our species.
“Actually, with you hooligans around, I’d like to talk about this never,” says Hayden. She looks at Lori. “You’re fine, but you’re on thin ice.”
Lori grins back at her unabashedly. “We’re talking all about your quest for boobies right after this.”
Theo heaves a world-weary sigh. “Actually, I think listening to Tweedledum and Tweedledee over there”—he jerks a thumb at Alec and Liam—“ranting about little aliens on Machu Picchu would be preferable to this.”
Liam’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. “Oh, boy, when we get home and I tell you about Nakhon Sawan in Thailand…”