This is a bad idea,” I said.

Willa tossed her hair over one shoulder. “Relax. I saw it in a movie.”

Charlie looked to the left and right as we walked out my front door. “Yeah, I saw that same movie, and the only reason it worked was because it was Halloween. Vera’s not exactly going to blend in on a pleasant September morning wearing a full-length winter coat and ski mask.”

Willa stopped and stared at Charlie. “You got your braces off.”

“Yeah, yesterday afternoon,” Charlie said.

I cringed, waiting for the insult that would inevitably follow.

“Looks good,” Willa said. And that’s all she said.

“Anyway … ” I said, moving past that slice of weirdness. “I still think this is crazy.”

Willa pushed the double stroller she’d gotten from her house. Charlie and I walked behind her, each holding one of Vera’s hands. The disguise covered her blue skin, and the long coat even made it so that you couldn’t see that she had three legs. But it was still super-suspicious looking. We just had to hope we didn’t attract any attention as we walked to the diner.

I had the Alien Invasion app open in case Vera needed to speak with us, but we’d instructed her not to talk at all in front of strangers. Wearing a long coat and ski mask on a mild fall day was strange enough without having a robot voice.

As we passed Mrs. Sweeney’s house, William Shakespaw began barking out the window as furiously as I’d ever seen him. William was a small white puffball of a dog and was normally very chill. That probably had a lot to do with him being sixteen years old, which was a bazillion in dog years. He never barked at kids walking by his house. So Vera’s disguise definitely wasn’t tricking him.

Vera’s hand trembled in mine. “What is that?”

“That’s a dog,” I explained. “Um, canine is the formal name, I think.”

“Is it dangerous? Or benevolent like the bird species?”

“Some dogs can bite, but not William Shakespaw. He’s the nicest dog ever.”

“According to your communication device’s translation, the small furry species would like us to move away from his property.”

My eyebrows rose. My phone just translated Dog to Vera? What couldn’t this app do?

We scurried past quickly, and Vera’s tight grip on my hand loosened. Birds and small old dogs certainly weren’t scary to me, but I guess if you’d never seen one before, they could be. I’d nearly peed my pants when Vera and Bob came out of the woods on Friday!

And now I nearly peed them again. We’d almost made it to the diner without anyone coming too close, but a woman and her kid were strolling down the sidewalk toward us.

“Stay cool,” I reminded everyone. This would be fine, I tried to convince myself. They’d walk on by. Three middle schoolers, one double stroller, and a child disguised as a cold bank robber is something you totally see every day.

As they got closer, the mother looked us over but didn’t say anything. Then her kid pointed to Vera and yelled, “Look at that! He’s weird!”

Leave it to four year olds to just say what they’re thinking.

“We’re a babysitting club!” Willa practically shrieked. “Kids love playing dress up! You know how they are!”

The woman put a protective hand on her child’s back, hustling him forward. I didn’t blame her. Willa’s forced chipper tone was scarier than her mean voice.

But at last we were at the diner. It was closed, as Willa had said, but luckily the owners’ daughter, Vanya Patel, was one of my friends from school. I’d gone with her once to open the diner the morning after a sleepover and I remembered where they hid the emergency key.

A small landscaped area surrounded a pretty bench near the front door. One of the rocks was fake. I bent down, squinting, and found it. The color matched the others, but it was too smooth. I picked it up and opened the secret hatch on the back.

I held the key up in victory. “Shall we?”

“We should hurry,” Willa said. “I talked to Vanya before I went to your house. After they finished cleaning up, they were heading to the store to restock the food they’d lost, then they were coming right back.”

I unlocked the door, and we pushed inside. The place looked okay but smelled like cleaning products, and patches of flour were caked into the corners.

“Okay, alien friends,” Charlie said, trying to use an authoritative voice. “Come out so we can help you.”

I was suddenly worried that the Vegans weren’t here at all. I mean, if Vanya’s parents had spent the morning cleaning the diner, wouldn’t the little aliens have run off? Unless they were hiding somewhere …

My eyes went to the cabinets beneath the counters. I marched over and knocked on the first one. A startled clicking sound echoed from a space farther down. I moved toward it and ripped open the cabinet door.

Two little aliens burst out, squealing and running in circles around the diner. Vera was full-grown at five feet so I’d been expecting the Vegans to be small. But they were the size of toddlers!

One picked up a glass from the counter and smashed it on the ground.

Apparently they had the temperament of toddlers, too.

Vera reached her hand out to grab the closest alien’s arm, but it jerked it and climbed on top of a table. It made a horrible noise like when you scrape a fork against a plate, except ten times louder.

The second alien ran up and kicked me in the shin.

“Ouch!” I yelled, doubling over and clutching my leg.

It started running for the door. Ugh, I thought, now we’d have to chase it through downtown. Not very inconspicuous!

But then Charlie jumped at the kid alien, wrapping his arms around it and tackling it to the floor.

“Impressive,” Willa said, almost under her breath.

“I guess all those hours at football practice aren’t for nothing,” Charlie said.

I held my phone up so the Vegans could clearly understand me. “Hey! You need to listen to your teacher!”

The alien with Charlie stopped squirming and the one dancing on the table froze in mid-move, both shocked that they were able to understand me.

“Vera,” I began. “Um, your teacher, is just trying to keep you safe. Now, stop this nonsense and come with us before you get hurt.”

Wow, that little speech made me feel all adult-ish. And it worked. Vera held out her hands and the little aliens each took one. I put my phone away and Vera dolphin-sounded some harsh words to the misbehaving kids as we strapped them into the stroller.

I brushed my hands off on my jeans. “Two Vegans down, four to go.”

Plus, you know, Bob the alien psychopath.