I sit quietly in my seat, blending in with the chatter and giggles of my classmates. My brown skin contrasts with the pinkish faces around me, but nobody seems to notice or care. Mrs. Radshore, our teacher, paces between desks, occasionally pausing to peer at a student’s paper. I reach into my backpack and pull out my prized ‘squid ink pen’—a trophy from a battle with a chipmunk in the schoolyard—and prepare to write.

I wonder if anyone suspects me. After all, I am already an alien, hiding in plain sight among children and teachers who never ask the right questions. I could answer the assignment truthfully, but I don’t want to be rude or risk discovery. So I decide to play along, scribbling silly answers at first, hoping my words will seem ordinary.

What would an alien really think of Earth? I write that if I were an alien on this planet, I would be ‘classified top secret’ and possibly stationed at an airforce base, but more likely, I’d be sitting in a classroom just like this one. I’d have arrived from a womb, just like everyone else, and learned to eat vegetables, act polite, and answer questions without revealing too much. I imagine being a student who knows too much, teaching my teachers things they never expected.

I write that if an alien came to Earth, the first thing they would do is gather up all the biological organisms and leave behind the gold and minerals—those are abundant everywhere, from comets to meteorites. Life and biology are rare, precious, and worth far more than shiny rocks. I describe humans as smart, squishy like tin peaches, yet hard like permafrost ice, their cars made of tin foil that spews out lead, not nearly as advanced as our element Hydrogen 99.

I wonder if my classmates will ever ask real questions or see past my disguise. I imagine telling them about my planet, where lions are terrifying and wild horses run free, not kept as pets. I think about how our politicians never lie, and how aliens would never commit crimes. But here, I remain unnoticed, just another student in Machen Elementary, my secret safe for another day.

I finish my essay with a simple truth: Earth smells like humans and whatever they ate last night. I smile to myself, pleased that I’ve made it through another day without being found out. Sometimes, being random and happily gay is all it takes to stay hidden, even in plain sight.