Time, time is gone
It stops, stops who it was
Well I was wrong
It never lasts
There is no
This is no modern romance…
– from Modern Romance by Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.

"How much we got left?" Zeke asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Not much," Casey replied from the back seat. Marybeth was sitting to his right with Stokely to her right, the blonde holding the thing that contained what was left of the scat, and Sam was to his left, staring straight ahead, the side of her head resting in her hand with her elbow propped up on the window sill.

"Well we only need enough to get the queen." Zeke said complacently. "We get her; we get them all, right?"

"I think so," said Stokely

"Well, where are we gonna find her?" Marybeth asked.

"Friday Night?" Stan scoffed. "There's only one place she can be."

"The game," Sam finished, and the school was looming not too far ahead, and she shivered and only then realized that she had forgotten her coat back in Zeke's garage.

Zeke floored the pedal and the car jerked forwards.

They parked by the gym. The game was going strong, and lights lit up the field, because night – and with it, the dark – had already come… but that side of the gym was in shadows.

"We're going to go find Drake," Stan said, heading off towards the game with Stokely by his side.

"Alright," said Zeke, heading towards the back door of the gym. The rest of the teenagers followed. They found the door locked shut.

"Anybody got a hair pin?" Zeke asked, looking at Marybeth and Sam.

"No," Sam said, reaching into her shoe. "But I do have a safety pin."

She pulled it out and handed it to Zeke, who shrugged, popped it open, and got to work picking the lock. Less then ten minutes later; they were all inside, pacing around the gym floor.

"We found Drake," they all jumped and swirled around to face the voice. It was Stan.

"She's at the game," said Stokely, joining the small cluster of teenagers again.

"What are you kids doing in here?" Again there was the whole jerking around bit, as a new voice came from the front of the gym… this time they knew it couldn't be one of them… not to mention that they'd spent so long at that school… they knew that voice.

Drake walked in, swaying her hips seductively. "The gym is closed. All of you come with me." She stopped walking.

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Ms. Drake," Casey said softly, as they all gathered around in their respective positions.

"And why is that?" she laughed a bit… but the laughter was short lived. Stan and Zeke dived at her from her right, jumped to their feet, and wrapped her up in volleyball net as quickly as they could. She struggled against them when they tackled her and now struggled to get loose.

"Get the door, Zeke, Sam!" Stan barked orders… and they obeyed, running to the front and smacking blacks metal chair in the handles to hold big double doors shut.

"Get off!" Ms. Drake cried. "Uh! You're all expelled!"

"Stop the act," said Casey. "No one's buying it."

"We know who you are." Stokely backed him up.

"You ready?" Stan asked, looking at Casey.

"Yep," Casey said, popping the top off a pen of scat. There was a nerve racking moment as he held it down towards Drake, before he said: "… Sniff this."

"No," she breathed. At this moment, Zeke jammed the last chair in place. Sam turned and jogged back to the gym floors.

"Sniff it, or he shoots you." Casey said, as if it were obviously… and at that moment, Sam crept around Ms. Drake – keeping a good, hefty distance between them – and joined the others behind Casey and Stan.

"I will not!" Drake cried breathily.

Zeke chose a quieter approach, sneaking in silently from the opposite side in which Sam had gone on. No one, not even one of the teenagers, noticed him.

"Now what?" Stan whined.

"Okay, we'll just have to do it the hard way," said Casey as he lifted the scat pen again and held Ms. Drake's chin to keep it steady. "Mr. Furlong, we punched it into his eye, the reaction was instantaneous."

"Okay," agreed Stan, raising the gun again. "You stick her and then I'll shoot her before it erupts all over the place."

"Casey, are you on drugs?" asked the principal in that same breathy voice.

Casey hesitated.

"What's wrong?" Sam broke the silence.

"Are we sure?" asked Casey.

"Please don't! No, Casey!" the principal was sobbing all the while.

"Don't wuss out, Casey, just do it!" urged Stan.

But Casey stalled, and Ms. Drake began to rise to her feet, still sobbing and pleading loudly. Zeke pushed past Stan, grabbing the gun from him, raised it, and shot Drake straight in the forehead.

She fell backwards, until she lay crumpled on the floor like an old candy wrapped, a pool of blood beginning to form around her head.

"What if we were wrong?" whispered Marybeth.

"Stab her and find out," said Stokely with her usual lack of enthusiasm, nudging Casey. He took a step forwards…

"I think we made a mistake, guys," said Casey, turning back to his friends. "I think she's… really…"

"Dead?" Sam finished.

"Yeah–"

Ms. Drake rose up again, much like Reagan in The Exorcist, eyes rolling back in her head and feelers stretching out of the bullet hole. Several of them screamed and backed away. Marybeth panicked; yanked open the scat container in her hands, and threw it against Ms. Drake. Drake screamed and fell to the floor again, bending her knees under her body, as she shriveled and dried up, oozing puss and chest sinking into mushy yet brittle blackness.

"Is that it?" Zeke asked. He had a hold of Marybeth's wrist. She nodded. "Well, let's see if it worked."

They jogged slowly over to the windows out front and looked out. Rain was pouring down, as thick as black oil, and all the little people were running out of the stands. They couldn't see the actual team through the rain…

"Better have work," Stokely muttered. "Or there's gonna be a lot of infected people going home."

"And we're right at ground zero," Casey added.

"Okay guys," Stan said, walking past Marybeth. "Stay here. I'm gonna go check it out." He turned to Zeke. "I'm gonna need some scat".

"Use it wisely, man." Zeke said, handing him one of the only two they had left.

"What if it wasn't Drake?" Marybeth whispered.

"Then we're fucked," Sam chuckled, laying her bare forehead against the cool glass.

Stan pushed open the door, but Stokely stopped him by grabbing his arm. They looked into each other's eyes for only a moment before she pulled him into a deep kiss.

Sam looked up pathetically from under her hair by tipping her head to the side ever so slightly. The kissing couple pulled apart, and Stan looked more then a little shocked.

"I just didn't want to never have done that," Stokely said with a nervous smile. Stan smiled in return, warmly, and then jogged off into the rain, shooting one last look back at Stokely.

Casey and Zeke were grinning stupidly and looking away from Stokely innocently. "What are you lookin' at?" she grunted. Sam began to laugh, which set Zeke off, too. She sent nasty glares both their ways.

The minutes ticked by, and the small group stood in silence for a long time. It was so thick you could cut it with a knife… Finally, Marybeth broke it.

"I wish I'd never come here," she complained. "I don't like this place."

"Any sign of him?" Casey asked Stokely, trying to keep conversation going before they all went insane.

"I can't tell," Stokely said, still looking out, trying to peer through the rain. "I can barely see anything–"

As if on que to scare everyone into pissing themselves: Stan's face appeared in the window. Immediately he tried to get in, but there was the folded up chairs Zeke had come up with using to hold the doors shut.

"Stokely, open the door!" he said. She reached to do it, but stopped suddenly when Casey exclaimed "No!"

"Stokely, we don't know if it's still him," Casey finished.

"No, it's me," Stan pleaded. "Listen, it isn't Drake! It's the coach! And he's right after me, open the door!"

"Don't do it, Stokes," Zeke ordered. "Prove it, Stan. Where's the drug?"

"I lost it; the coach was too fast for me!"

Zeke frowned, looked at the scat pen he'd held the entire time, and then handed it to Casey. "Last one, man."

"Please, I'm begging you; don't leave me out here!" Stan continued. "Come on, Stokely, open the door!"

Casey took a large step forward and slid the pen under the door. "There, try it," he said as he stood back where he had stood before.

"Okay, I'll do it, just let me do it inside!"

"No, you'll do it right now, man," Zeke told him, holding up the gun at his side.

"Take the test, Sparky," urged Sam.

"Stan, take the drug, man," Zeke enforced. "Prove it to us."

"Alright, alright," Stan said, picking up the drug. He opened it, displayed it so that they could all see that he had, set it in his nostril… and paused… Smirking wickedly, he slowly turned it upside down, pouring their last pen of scat all over the ground.

"Fuck!" Zeke shouted, turned around.

"Oh, Stan," moaned Casey, starring at the door in disbelief.

Sam ran her hands through her hair and took a step back away from the door.

"Open the door," Stan was saying slowly, speaking to only Stokely now. "It is so much better… there's no fear, there's no pain; it's beautiful… and you will be beautiful… you'll be beautiful… no problems, no worries… we want you. I want you. I… want… you…"

All the while Stokely's chin was trembling and she looked on the verge of tears. Sam was merely watching and it was torture, to see someone's insides being twisted and grinded like that.

"Now open the fucking door!" Stan thundered, slamming his palms against the doors.

"That's enough," Sam said out loud, walked over, and led Stokely away. "C'mon, Stokes…"

"Just go away Stan!" Casey called, keeping his distance from the door.

"It's too late, Stokely," Stan called, even though she had her back to him. "We've already won!"

Sam looked over her shoulder and shot him a glare so fierce it could send a lion with rabies running to its mommy in terror and flipped him her middle finger, saying "Fuck off!" to go with it. Stan only smiled.

"No pain, Stan?" Zeke asked, walking up to the door. He pressed the barrel of the gun up to the glass. "Why don't you come in here and I'll show you some fucking pain!" he bellowed.

Stan smiled again, before turning and jogging away. Casey and Zeke thumbled back into the main part of the gym and sat down on the bleachers to join the girls.

Casey paced the room for a long time, and they all sat in silence. Sam studied the lines on the palm of her hand while Stokely stared off into the distance, haunted with the memory of what had just happened with Stan, and Marybeth sat perfectly content, watching the other teenagers silently.

"… I say we go for the coach," Casey said after a long time, bringing everyone's attention to him. He sat down on the bottom bleacher and rested his elbows on the second. "He turned Stan. He's the one… or do you just want to wait for them to come to us?"

"Either way," Marybeth spoke softly. "We're completely unarmed."

"Maybe not," now everyone turned to look at Zeke. "I might have some more scat… in my trunk."

"In your trunk?" Casey echoed. "In your car? Amongst the aliens? Oh that's convenient."

"You got a better idea?" Zeke asked, flashing his car keys… always so cool, always so calm…

Casey looked down. "Alright."

Zeke stood up and Casey followed.

"Wait!" Sam called, jumping off the bleachers and jogging up to them. Zeke watched with his normal apathy as Sam stopped in front of Casey, fidgeting a little, with one arm at her side and the other bent and the elbow a crossed her upper belly/lower chest and holding the first. "… Come back Casey, okay, Casey?"

He nodded. "I will."

"Promise?"

"Okay, I promise."

"That wasn't mandatory…"

Moments later they were gone, leaving the three girls alone in the large gymnasium. Sam sat down on the bottom bleacher, rather then where she'd been sitting next to Stokely a minutes ago, and held her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees, wondering if they would be coming back…

They sat in silence for about three minutes before Stokely struck up a conversation, and chatted with Marybeth. She tried to get Sam in on it, but all she would do was grunt. Eventually, they gave up.

"… I used to think the only alien in this school was me," Stokely admitted darkly.

"… Who do you think it is?" Marybeth whispered. "The master alien, the queen bee?"

Stokely shrugged. "It could be anyone."

"What happens at the end of these stories?" Marybeth asked in a soft voice. "How does Invasion of the Body Snatchers turn out?"

"Basically, they win, we lose."

"Do we?" Marybeth questioned. "Maybe we really win. Look at Stan, he didn't seem unhappy!"

"That's because it wasn't Stan," Stokely's voice was hollow. "They took away who he was."

"Maybe they just bettered who he was… cleared away his confusion."

There was another moment of silence between them.

"… I know you pride yourself on bein' the outside, Stokely," Marybeth spoke again. "But aren't you tired of bein' someone you're not?"

Sam furrowed her brows in confusion, and looked up – hesitantly – just in time to see Marybeth, her arm turned into a long tentacle, smack Stokely right off of the bleachers. Sam jumped up, gasped, stumbled, tripped, and fell off the bleachers out of mere clumsiness.

"No… fucking… way!" she heard Stokely say.

She slowly pulled herself to sit up, the back of her head throbbing from where it'd whacked into the hardwood floor, and looked up for a moment… that's when she saw the thing Marybeth had become. She was like a giant one of those things Casey had found, only different, with long, large tentacles hanging out all over the place.

"The queen bee is Marybeth Louis Hutchinson of Atlanta?" Sam store at her for a long moment, before realizing that Stokely was trying to pull her onto her feet and it was really time they started running now, but it was at this time that one of the doors came in, and threw it rushed…

"Casey!" Sam cried, and Stokely grabbed her arm.

Casey looked up at The Queen Alien, his blue eyes growing into perfect circles. He took a step back, and Sam didn't have half a doubt that he was wishing he had his camera right about now.

"Casey!" Stokely shouted, bringing his attention back to the real world. He dived past what Marybeth had become and dashed over to the girls. They turned and dashed into the pool run, all running at top speed.

The Queen Bee followed. She dived into the pool and made a huge wave as she swam a crossed, so very, very fast, and the teenagers ran around. They were almost to the doors when…

"Stokely!" Casey cried as a tentacle wrapped around her legs, yanked her feet out from under her, sending blood pouring out of her nose, and then yanking her down into the pool with it.

Sam began to run to help her but Casey shoved her back against the wall so hard she was seeing nothing but red spots for a long time. She waited until her vision cleared, when she saw Casey pulling Stokely out of the pool.

Stokely didn't waste time sitting around to cough and gasp for air, but jumped to her feet and did it while she ran. Casey grabbed Sam up by the arm and they sped into the locker room.

"Hide!" Casey told them both in a harsh whisper.

"Okay," Stokely said, grabbing Sam's wrist, and led her away.

They hid behind a row of crimson lockers, a weird cage-like thing to their left. They waited in total silence, save for their breathing.

Sam watched from the corner of the lockers, too see if Marybeth or Zeke came back… she didn't change her attention back to Stokely until she felt an arm wrap around her neck from the front and pull her closer.

"Umm, Stokes," Sam looked up at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Shhhhhhhh," Stokely hissed, her other arm snaking around Sam's waist, pinning her arms to her body.

"Stokes," she repeated. "Stokely!"

Sam felt a thing shoot into her ear. Stokely clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams, and scream Sam did. She screamed as the thing shot into her brain and wiggled its way through her body… she screamed and screamed, until she couldn't scream anymore… literally. Sam tried to scream, but she couldn't for the life of her make the sound come out. Stokely hesitated, and then removed her hand. Sam shut her mouth, but did not do it at all.

"Hello," they heard Zeke call as he stumbled into the locker room.

"You take care of him," Sam said, looking back at Stokely, but she didn't say it at all. She was alien! "I'll go find Casey… he trusts me, anyway."

Stokely nodded, stood up, and went to tend to the drug dealer. Sam stood up as well, and began to weave her way through the rows and rows of lockers.