Page 77 of Space Junk: Houston, We Have a Hottie
Though I’m so overwhelmingly happy at the outcome of the space walk, my smile is forced when I speak to Jules and Bodie through my headset. “Station, we have two fully functioning EXTs up and running. You are good to maneuver back inside.”
Disregarding proper public loop protocol, Jules simply replies, “That’ll do, hooker. That’ll do.”
Twenty
Diagnostics
Jackie
Ian’s shoeswill never be the same. I haven’t been able to fully pick up my feet while walking home, my exhaustion like an extra dose of gravity on my limbs. Drag, clump. Drag, clump. It’s been my theme song since I finally left Mission Control a little while ago, making my way to my apartment.
I should’ve caught a ride with someone at work, but most of my co-workers were heading out to celebrate, picking up where we’d left off at Boondoggles. Not me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired. Physically, yes. I didn’t have much sleep last night and I’ve mostly been standing and pacing since the alarms sounded in the ISS. Mentally exhausted? Check. If I close my eyes I still see electrical and structural blueprints as well as command codes flitting beneath my eyelids.
I’ve been both mentally and physically exhausted before. Not usually at the same time, but still. Nothing new. The real kicker is my emotional state. I’ve never truly understood what people meant by emotionally exhausted until the adrenaline crashed when Jules called me hooker after the EXT booted back up. After that I could’ve slithered to the floor and crashed. But I kept my feet under me, even with the many congratulatory slaps on my back, until Sean called it and sent us home, the next MCC shift taking over.
Thankfully, we won’t debrief until tomorrow. And I have a feeling I’m going to need all the recovery time I can get. As exhausting and stressful as the spacewalk was, it did one thing for me. It kept my mind off Flynn.
I finally make the turn into my apartment complex. No need to put in a code, as the gate’s still broken. Mental eyeroll. I need to add “scroll through real estate listings” to my to-do list, along with a new—
I pull up short in the parking lot and blink. My car is sitting in my assigned parking space. I push my fingers under my glasses and rub my eyes, straighten the frames and check the parking spot number again. It’s still there. Not that anyone else would have the same POS as me, but still, I had to check. Because if it’s here that means…
I haul in a deep breath.
Don’t do it. Don’t you dare do it, Jackie. You will not cry.
My nostrils flare as I take several deep breaths, closing my eyes until I feel the sting behind my eyelids cool. Once I’m sure I’m under control, I continue walking toward the stairs, pointedly not looking at the reminder that Flynn and I are over. Not remembering how he hadn’t wanted to give me my car as it ensured I’d come see him again. Because if I remember, then I have to face the logical conclusion that he simply doesn’t want me to come see him again. That what I saw in the parking lot of Boondoggles was more than just my skewed perspective, that it was real and true.
My foot catches the front of the treads a few times as I climb to the third floor. Step by step I concentrate on my feet, willing myself to make it to my bed. If I can just collapse into my safe space, I’ll be okay. I can sort everything out tomorrow. I just need to shut down and sleep. Reboot, like I rebooted the ISS tonight.
Maybe if I’m lucky, tomorrow I can figure out a way to hotwire my mind, jumpstart the synapses in my brain. I crest the final landing. Just a few more feet and I’ll be there.
“Jackie?”
Flynn?Why is Flynn sitting in front of my apartment door? I blink a few times, but just as with my car, the image doesn’t change. I stare, taking in his arms resting across his knees, his long, booted legs pulled up toward his chest. His eyes seem heavy and his hair is a mess. He looks sogood.
“Jackie? You okay?”
I guess he’s asking me that since I didn’t respond the first time. I can’t find it in me to respond this time either. Maybe I started the mental reboot too soon.
Slowly, he pulls his legs in further, pushes off against the door and rises.
“I watched you,” he says. “On NASA TV, I mean.” He tilts his head down, staring into my eyes. Like he is trying to get a read on me. “I’m so glad everything worked out, that your friend Jules is safe.”
Still I continue to just stare, not really processing what is happening. I wonder if I’m having a mental breakdown. That seems like a logical conclusion to the day I’ve had.
He takes one step toward me and stops. “I’m sorry, Jackie. So sorry. About earlier. About Beth.”
At that, I can feel myself flinch, that woman’s name landing like a blow to my chest. He sees it and takes another step forward, hands out.
“I’m sorry, Jackie. I should’ve ignored that whole messed-up situation and been there for you when all that stuff at NASA happened.” He runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. “I was just shocked. I never thought I’d see her again. Hell, I neverwantedto see her again.”
Something must be getting through, because I feel myself tilting my head, drawing my brows together, trying to concentrate on that last part, and what it means.
Flynn must read my confusion because he closes the distance between us, his arms clutching my biceps. “I don’t want Beth, Jackie. Please say you know that. Please say you know I’d never do that to you.”
I open my mouth, but something catches in my throat. I try to clear it, but still my voice is rough when I speak. “You don’t want Beth.” I’m not sure if I’m asking or just trying to repeat what he said so it sinks in.
“God no.” He wraps me in his arms. “You, Jackie. I just want you.”
