Page 28 of Between Earth and Eternity
She furrows her brows but lets it go.
“Alright, well, they are serving lunch. Do you want to head over?” she asks.
“Actually, I have a headache. I think I’ll go lie down for a bit.”
She continues to look at me curiously, but says, “Okay, feel better. See you later.”
I walk back to my room at a normal pace, trying not to draw attention, and once I’m in my room, I pull out my phone from my bag. No surprise, there is still no service, but I have to get something down, even if it is all for naught.
I type out the message slowly.
Me: I want you all to know how much I love you and that I will miss you with all my heart. I don’t know what lies ahead in the stars or where they will guide me, but I pray that someday soon, they will guide you to wherever I am. I will wait for you there and will be reliving all the beautiful memories of love and the life I’ve shared with you. No matter the space that separates us, my heart will remain with you. Until we meet again.
I click on Elliot’s name as well as my parents’ and push send. The message disappears from the screen, and I can feel a piece of my heart intertwined with these final words. I quickly turn off the phone, I don’t want to see thefailed to sendnotification, and I stuff it as far as I can into the bottom of my bag, uncertain if I will be lucky in hiding it from their knowledge a second time. The chances are slim.
I feel sick. I came around to the idea of saying goodbye to family, but not my songs too. If what my father said is true, there’s a chance that some of the songs I have played over and over, cherished and embedded into my bones, may be gone forever with the destruction of my phone. If my heart was as cold and removed as a Mannox’s, I could maybe get through this in one piece. But caring leads to pain, a voluntary risk we make that tends to leave us broken.
I’m starting to wonder if maybe selfishness isn’t cruel after all. Maybe it’s a shield from self-destruction.
With a little bit of luck, I’ll find a place where I can stay forever . . .
Maybe I can pay my cosmic debt before I turn to dust
“Looking Back,” Lord Huron
While every fiber of my being drowns in fear, I cannot deny the electricity in the air. It was another sleepless night, but I don’t regret experiencing my last sunset and sunrise on Earth.
All morning, I’ve been staring out the window, watching huge ships with long, unnatural wings and massive engines line up one by one on the runway.
I play with thefriendscharm on my bracelet nervously while the morning light stretches over my bed, still made from yesterday, my bag, ready and packed, sitting on top. I thought about turning my phone on several times but never could bring myself to do it. If I’m able to smuggle it onto Zenith, I’ll turn it on once I’m alone again. My music is my last lifeline. I double-check my bag again just as a message appears on the screen of my new StarComm.
Good morning, Miss Andrews. Please be ready for departure in 10 minutes.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at my door. I check myself in the mirror, splashing some cold water on my face to try to wash away the tiredness in my eyes, then slip on my hat to complement my black sweatpants and hoodie. When the door opens, I’m surprised that it’s not Ori standing there, but Payson.
“Hey,” he says in a bashful sort of way.
“Hey.” I pause. “Would you like to come in?”
He smiles and steps inside my room. He sets his bag on the floor before he leans against the counter, folding his arms. It hits me now how long it’s been since I’ve been alone with a man. Elliot doesn’t count because he’s, well, Elliot.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks as he studies me.
His gaze doesn’t make me uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have invited him in if it did, but I’m still unsure about him and why he has taken an interest in me. Ori must have filled him in on why I was absent for the rest of yesterday, which means he probably asked about me.
“I am. Thanks for asking.” I hate that I sound so formal.
“It’s a big day,” he says in an attempt to keep the conversation going.
“I still can’t believe it’s happening.”
He nods in agreement.
Maybe it’s nerves or the fact that I don’t like awkward silences. I’ve never been an expert at small talk, but I ask, “What did you feel when you found out you were a Lottery winner?”
He unfolds his arms and rubs his jaw, pondering for several moments. I expected an immediate answer, but finding this is a more complicated question for him, I am curious what he might say.
“To be honest . . . I was relieved.”
