Page 18 of The Love Simulation

So, building trust. Look at that fake concern trying to throw me off my game before we even get there.

“Just peachy,” I say.

Roman’s eyes search mine, but I turn to the window before he can find anything to tip him off that I’m onto him. This isn’t like school, where we put aside everything in the morning then have our silent competition once the kids arrive. Here, the stakes are much, much higher, and for me the battle starts now.

I spend the ride alternating between being only too mindful of Roman’s every shift, sigh, and slight snore and napping myself, as well as trying to mentally prepare for what we have in store.

The goal of the simulation is to understand how people will cope with life on Mars. Similar to how astronauts stay on board the International Space Station then switch out, the habitat, or “Hab,” we’re arriving at on “Mars” has been occupied by other teams before us. It will be the job of our crew to complete certain objectives that will keep everything running at top performance for those who come after us. And keep our sanity in such close quarters when we only have one another to rely on.

“And we’re here,” our facilitator announces seven hours later. Considering it would take about nine months to get to the planet Mars, a half day’s drive across Texas isn’t so bad.

The van slows as we approach a guardhouse, and I knowsomebodyis playing with me, ’cause ain’t no way the building they’re taking us to looks just like a football stadium. I don’t know whether to laugh, knock on wood, or pray to kingdom come.

Rather than clear-cut corners and a flat roof, this structure is a long, imposing oval with a closed domed ceiling. There are no windows or anything else on the exterior that would indicate what’s inside, which makes the single doorthat I can see look tiny, and a bit ominous, compared to the building’s size.

“Welcome to the red planet,” the facilitator continues once the guard raises the rail for us to drive forward. “You all have come a long way, and now you’ve finally made it! As you know, the air on Mars is toxic. You’d die in less than two minutes without a proper suit and oxygen.”

Simone gasps out, “Oh no!” and Angie cuts her an annoyed look that says,really?

Angie has been quite hostile the whole drive. Rolling her eyes and huffing, throwing in something about Mexico every now and then. Complaining when poor Jordan crossed their invisible line and allowed his elbow to hang too far over on her side. I don’t know what’s going on, but if I have to worry about both RomanandAngie, this doesn’t bode well for our team at all.

After the van parks in front of the building, our facilitator undoes her seat belt and turns her body as much as she can to face us. “As stated before, even though you all aren’t trained astronauts, we believe in your abilities to succeed. Think of this experiment like a game of strategy,” she says like she’s letting us in on a secret. “It’s all mental. It’s normal to feel like you’re overwhelmed or want to go home, so try to focus on what you all came here for. Remember you’re a team, working together to reach a common goal.”

When she sayscommon goal, I can’t help but cut my eyes to Roman. He catches me and frowns. I turn away before he can say anything and continue listening, leaning forward as the facilitator gives us more information.

“First and foremost, this simulation is for education, to study how humans will survive when we finally call other planets home—it’s not reality TV. The bedrooms are not monitored by cameras or microphones, so consider thosesafe spaces.” Her voice becomes quieter. “Neither is the computer server room. There’s no camera, and the microphones only pick up the sound of the fans. In the greenhouse, cameras are on, but no microphones, again due to the fans. The last blind spot is in the left corner, right next to the lab station.” Like the MVP she is, she nods at us once, then goes back to her regular voice. “All right, let’s get this thing started. First things first—space suits!”

We practiced helping one another get into our space suits at the orientation, but both the facilitator and driver help us today to save time. Then we load the two crates full of supplies onto a metal dolly, and in what seems like no time at all we’re standing at the door.

A sudden spike of adrenaline sends my stomach tumbling and my limbs tingling. I’m really doing this. I’m about to spend six weeks locked up with my work colleagues. With Roman.

I haven’t felt this nervous since I went away for college. I left behind my family and all that I knew to brave it out in a different world. At least then, home was half a day’s drive away and leaving only meant sacrificing a weekend.

With the world I’m about to step into now, leaving or losing focus will mean giving up the library. But I won’t let that happen. I straighten my shoulders, remembering how good it felt to walk across the stage and receive my diploma. Walking out of this simulation six weeks from now will feel just as good because not only will we walk out knowing that we’ve saved the library, but we’ll be heroes. Not to mention how good it will feel flaunting my win in front of Principal Major’s face.

“Okay, astronauts,” the facilitator says. This time her voice comes through little earpieces we put in. She gives us a rundown of going in and opening the hatch for the Hab.How once we go through the door, the only time we’ll come out is when the simulation is over, or if we “expire” early.

“You’re on your own from here,” she finishes.

“Yeah, let’s do this!” Jordan says, pumping a fist in the air. He seems to be the only one of us not having second thoughts.

The facilitator swings the door open and takes a step back, then we walk through.

Jordan goes in first, pulling the dolly behind him. Simone follows, then Angie, Roman, and me.

“Wow,” Simone says as we take it all in.

Wow, indeed.

It may look like a stadium on the outside, but on the inside it’s like we’ve literally left Earth and been transported to the red planet. Because indeed, red is all around. There’s hard, flat sand under our feet, but throughout the stadium the ground swells with hills of varying heights. This place reminds me of pictures I’ve seen of the Mojave Desert, except there’s no vegetation and the panels above project an afternoon sky in a pink hue tinged with red, making it feel like I’m wearing tinted sunglasses.

As we take it all in, the door shuts behind us with an air of finality, and now there really is no turning back.

“You guys,” Jordan says. “This is…amazing.”

He walks forward as if pulled by a string and we follow after him, heading toward our settlement.

“Does anyone smell that?” Simone asks.

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