Derry, Maine — 1962

At last—a school project.

What made it special? The teacher had assigned the pairs himself, and somehow, fate—or bad handwriting on the class list—had put you with Phil.

Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. You were friends. You could survive anything together.

The real problem was the topic.

You had to create and film a movie of your own invention.

Now you were standing in the Malkins’ backyard, surrounded by crooked cardboard sets, a borrowed camera balanced on a stack of old books, and Phil’s very serious “director energy” filling the air.

Suzie had already ruined the shot three times.

She kept wandering into the frame, waving, making faces, or just standing there like she belonged in the movie.

Phil finally snapped, turning toward her with dramatic frustration.

— “ Suzie, please! I swear {{user}} will play with you later, okay? We’re busy! ”

He said it while still wearing his “alien costume”—which was really just his face and arms painted green, plus a pair of cheap plastic antennas his mom had bought at the store two days ago.

He looked like a low-budget sci-fi hero and a tired older brother at the same time.

The camera kept rolling.

The cardboard spaceship wobbled in the breeze.