COSMIC

20 - The Loneliest Guy

Several days passed but as I recall to write this story, I can't remember if it was a week or longer. My life was back to normal again as much as it could be, and I found myself carrying on with my same routine before having met David. There was no sign of him, aside from occasionally seeing his star in the sky. At first, he was absent for a few nights, but then he began to appear again. My hopes would lift immensely on those nights as I watched from my window, wishing under my breath that he would come to visit us. But he would only vanish without a sign. Eventually, I came to terms with David never returning.

Others, though, were far from leaving us alone. Josh was right when he said everyone would know if Drew did. As the days carried on, more and more people learned of our discovery-whether they believed it or not, it came to be referred to by that name. And by the time the whole town heard about the incident with our parents in the forest, the conspiracy theorists were at it again. There was a resurgence of phone calls and letters, and I often watched guiltily as the mailman struggled to cram them into the mailbox before shaking his head at our house and moving on.

Most of the letters were from Joey or people who said they were associates of his. I learned that he conducted meetings with them weekly about their alien research and always invited others to relate their encounters. I, of course, was invited continuously. Another person who I came to know through his scribbled letters was a man named Bob. He opened his letter with an explanation of his UFO sightings and how he began avid research of aliens since, befriending Joey in the process. He pleaded with me to share information of my discovery. I chuckled lightly as I finished reading, before throwing it in the trash. But then I paused and retrieved it, sneaking it to a safe place in my room for a keepsake. I never threw out another letter after that.

Phone calls came less frequently than letters, but were pestering enough to push my mom to leaving the phone off the hook at times. I made the mistake of answering the first few calls (even though I expected them, I still had to live my life). Quickly, however, I realized that was no longer an option, as it only encouraged them to try harder. I began to avoid answering, or if Mom wasn't around, at least pretend I wasn't the "alien girl" before knowing who I was talking to. Nighttime was the worst-possibly because the conspiracy theorists thought they could meet with me that night. When mom would leave for work, I often unplugged the phone cord from the wall.

Despite all that, it was only slightly annoying to me. Even though my friends were either irritated or terrified by the letters and calls they received, I found it amusing. Their enthusiasm poured through, causing me to remember my exciting moments at the heart of my discovery. I only felt saddened that I could never tell them, but keeping David's secret-and mine-meant more than anything. Suddenly, I hugged a newly delivered letter to my chest, as I imagined receiving one from David and wondered what its contents would be.

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It was a Wednesday afternoon-about a week after our forest incident-when my mom and I were cooped up inside the house to stay out of the sweltering heat. It was a particularly hot day so hardly anyone dared to venture outside. Every fan we owned buzzed noisily throughout the living room and kitchen to keep us cool.

"I wonder if it's not as stuffy outside," I said, fanning myself with a newspaper as I lied across the couch.

"Not stuffy, but you would cook out there," my mom replied. She had just come in with the mail and began to sort through it like a deck of cards. Then she took a few and plopped them on my lap. "Here's some more if you're still interested."

"They're entertaining," I said, opening the first envelope.

"I hope you aren't responding to any of those."

"No," I huffed. "They're just fun to read."

My mom shot me a worried look as if she still contemplated sending me to a psychiatrist, but before she could say any more, the phone rang. I sat up instinctively to answer but paused, glancing sheepishly at my mom. The phone calls still made her anxious.