Alien or Alian

Ozias let the back of his body collapse onto the couch in his living room. He was trying with every fiber of his being to keep his eyes open and focused on the ceiling until Sid was done parking his car outside. He couldn’t close them. If he did, all he would see was black, and then all he would think about was the blob. It had already overran his thoughts for most of the drive home, and it was really starting to make his stomach churn and his chest cramp.

The front door peeled open and in strolled Sid, swinging his keys by the ring around and around on his finger. He quietly shut the door, surprisingly, then went over to sit on the corner of the couch’s arm by Ozias’ legs. There was a funny look in his eyes as he observed Ozias, like he was an alien.

But Ozias didn’t notice; his eyes were still trained to the ceiling. Out of nowhere he asked Sid, “so, what do we do now?”

Though Ozias still wasn’t aware, Sid shrugged anyway. “We wait. We lie low. We stay out of trouble, and I should probably send Spacewalker that text now.”

Ozias rocketed to sit up on the couch and scooted back into one side, his eyes blinking just as fast as he shifted his target from the ceiling to Sid. “Could I send him the text? You know, so he doesn’t worry. He might feel more at ease or something if it came from me.”

Sid had wholly flinched; his body had briefly lifted from where he was perched, but he quickly caught a grip as he sat back down. “Yeah...sure, whatever. Go ahead.”

After a few awkward seconds, Ozias moved to lean an arm atop of the couch cushion and meekly glanced all over the room, occasionally meeting Sid’s gaze. “Um...do you...could I have his phone number?”

Sid blinked about a dozen times before a half-witted grin broke out. “You two have been joined at the hip for how long now, and you haven’t exchanged numbers yet?”

“W-we haven’t really had time to, with everything going on.”

“Weren’t you two ‘studying’ the whole day together yesterday?”

Ozias hadn’t noticed the tone change at ‘studying’. “T-that’s all we did, though. We were totally preoccupied with just that.”

“I bet,” Sid chuckled, making Ozias frown in confusion. “Okay, get your phone out.” As he said this, he stuffed a hand into his jacket pocket and took out his own cell phone.

Oziad eagerly nodded and started combing through every pocket on him, but the realization slowly kicked in. He didn’t have his phone. It was still inside his backpack, which he had left back in the lecture room when he fled with Ezra.

“Shit.”

“Nice vocabulary,” Sid chuckled again. “Something wrong?”

“I left my phone in my bag back at campus...in that room…”

“Okay okay, how about this? You tell me what you wanna say, and I’ll text it to Spacewalker saying it’s from you. Good?”

Ozias nodded profusely. “I just wanted to say, ‘I’m at home. I’m fine. I am worried about this whole thing, but…’” he stared at his trembling hands. Trepidation ran through his blood. “‘...not as much as I’m worried about you’. That’s all.”

Sid nodded. “Short and sweet.” His uncoiling smile seemed neither mocking nor benevolent to Ozias, and that alone was close to stirring up a whole new concern in his head. “Okay, sent, and I’ll send another text about your stuff on campus so someone can pick it up.”

“Oh, t-thanks.” Aside from his recurring inability to talk with his inside voice — which bizarrely enough had been absent so far during their entire conversation — Ozias was beginning to realize that Sid the Squid was verily a decent person.

“Don’t mention it.” Sid slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket then slid himself sideways into the unfilled spot on the couch next to Ozias. “So, you like Ethen, right?”

“W-what?” Ozias gagged on his saliva then, and it took a few coughs till his throat cleared. “I mean, yeah, I like him as a friend.”

“Give it up, Precht. I’ve seen the way you look at him. Whenever I met up with Ethen after Halton’s writing class, I always saw you, way down in the front row, discreetly giving him those lovey-dovey eyes of yours. Even the other night at Ethen’s party, I saw you in line snooping on him and Rebeca. Don’t know how anyone else hasn’t noticed it yet.”

Just like that, the fragment of decency Ozias saw in Sid a second ago had vanished like the sun being swallowed by an enormous cloud. Although he silently admitted to himself, that if anyone else had given him the exact same creepy illustration of his actions that Sid had a long time ago, he would’ve spent a lot less effort trying to sneak glances at him each chance he got.

Sid realized the discomfited look growing on Ozias, so he quickly continued, “and Ethen’s a nice guy and all, but just to let you know — so you don’t get your hopes or anything — you’d likely be better off not liking him.”

“W-what? What do you mean? Why?”

“For as long as I’ve known that stony bastard, he’s never shown any interest in dating anybody, not even casual hookups. Rebeca’s not the first to hound him for one date, and she’s definitely not the first to get rejected. I’ve tried talking to him about it in the past, and believe me when I tell you that he looked bored out of his existence whenever I brought it up. So what I’m saying is it’s probably best for you to just forget him and move on.”

Ozias slouched against the couch cushion, leaning back a little so that his eyes could return to the ceiling. The reason wasn’t what he expected, but despite that he still felt lighter after hearing it, as if someone had vaporized what was left of the dwindling ten tons of heart-shaped blocks that had been weighing on his shoulders for the last two years. Just a day ago the old him would have surely been devastated by Sid’s revelation, but now — now after discovering and befriending undeniable aliens — something changed, something that was turning out to be a more hopeful outcome than whatever scenarios he imagined before.

Ozias was quiet for a long time and Sid was partially chewing on his lower lip, ready to take back everything he said. But at last, Ozias spoke again. “You’re right, Sid. Thanks for telling me all that. I think I’m mostly over him already anyhow.”

“Oh,” Sid blundered. “Okay, cool. That’s good, good for you.”

“So,” Ozias continued, timorously trying his best to keep eye contact, “you don’t mind that — that I’m — that I like-”

Sid stretched out his arm across the couch to grip Ozias’s shoulder, quelling him. “Dude, I don’t care who you like. Do whoever your heart wants you to.” Ozias giggled, and it was the first time in the company of someone else that he didn’t feel the need to stifle the reaction. “But anyways, you actually go quite well with Ezra.”

Ozias shuddered. The sound of Ezra’s name coming from Sid was the equivalent of nails being scraped across a chalkboard. “Did you really just say-”

“Although,” Sid went on, “you probably wouldn’t be cozying up to Spacewalker so much if you knew him back in the day. He could never shut up about all that space travel stuff. Basically bragging every chance he got. But, he acts different around you, less annoying. I really didn’t see it at first, but, maybe he’s your type after all.”

“My type of what, exactly?”

“You know,” Sid grinned again. “Romantic type.”

Ozias practically felt the rush of blood in his cheeks as the heat soon swelled. “C-can we change the subject?”

“Oh-kay! How ’bout we discuss that badass confrontation you had with the blob?”

“Hardly,” Ozias sheepishly shrugged. “It was more like a stroke of good timing. Ezra was in trouble. It was all I could think to do… It looked like Mr. Halton, but it didn’t act like him, didn’t sound like him. That thing, that...Jupiterian.”

“The what?”

“Oh, well, an inhabitant of Jupiter. I think there’s already a name for it, ‘Jovian’, but I don’t know. ‘Jupiterian’ just comes to me more often.”

“Writing majors really live in their heads, huh?” Sid tried keeping a straight face, but Ozias’ non-lethal glare pushed him over the edge, making him spew his laughter in a booming timbre. Ozias joined in after a quick beat. Something about Sid’s laugh was too contagious to try and be annoyed at.

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!

The pounding at the door came like a bass drum being struck at lightning speed. It frightened Ozias, but Sid was on high alert as he stood from the couch and took vigilant steps towards the front door. Something shifted when he looked through the peephole, Ozias noticed it from where he sat; a flash of terror. His stomach felt like it was caving in on itself and fear and gravity seemed to be working in coalition to keep him stuck on the couch.

When he finally pried himself off of the leather cushions, Ozias made to move to the door as well, but Sid held out a hand motioning him to stop.

“Ozias,” he started to say, voice quiet, steady and cautious. He backtracked at a snail’s pace away from the door as the burgeoning knocking went on. “Run.”