Spaceship Situationship

01 - Kassia

It's the night before we're about to leave for Xiole.

The hallway is empty and the heaters are off. A gust of wind blows through the corridor, causing the lockers to jangle. We're not supposed to be here, of course. But isn't it okay if we spend one last moment together?

We make our way up a set of rickety stairs until we reach the rooftop. It's so windy that we almost topple over, but you grab onto me and help me steady myself as we sit down on the cool concrete. 

It's still, but silence is comfortable when it's between us two.

"I'm glad we'll be together in the next life too," you finally say.

"Yeah."

"We won't remember anything, but I know we won't change." You lace your fingers with mine, and give my hand a reassuring squeeze. "My hands will remember the shape, the warmth, and the pressure of yours."

"We're only seventeen," my bottom lip trembles. "We're so young, and we're going to forget everything about each other, and our emotions are so volatile at this age—"

"Are you scared?"

"I am."

"I'm not."

"How?"

"I just know we'll be okay."

"But without our memories, will we even be us?"

"Yes. Don't worry," he puts his forehead to mine. "I'll always find my way back to you."

"How can you say something so cheesy?!" I jump back and swat at him.

He smiles at me, and it's as if time's fleeting footsteps begin to slow.

"I learned from the best, of course."

Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot pierces through my thoughts.

I feel the weight of his body drop onto mine, limp and lifeless. My mind goes blank and I scream, crouching down and holding my knees. My ears ring with the shaky pounding of my heart.

I wake up in cold sweat.

---

2:40 - Z-64 Dorm 462 Cretan Days to LandingKassia Z-64

"Jeez... what the heck," I roll out of my polyfabric blanket and land my bare feet into fuzzy slippers. I trudge over to the bedroom door and sloth into the dark Common Room.

The lights flicker on, temporarily blinding me.

What should I do?

It feels like a thousand bees are swarming inside my stomach and my forehead burns with a nauseous pain. Maybe I should have some green juice, the age-old solution to all problems.

I make my way to the fridge, take out the bottle of green juice, and swing the door closed. The sound is louder than I expected, and I almost drop the bottle.

Wincing, I sit down at the dining table and pour myself a glass. Then I chug it down. Cold and bitter, I think, quietly placing the bottom of the glass back against the tabletop.

I don't want to wake anyone up, so—

"What are you doing?"

"AGH!" I jolt up, and whip my head around to see Kari, leaning against the wall. Her brown eyes inspect my frazzled appearance— from the remnants of green juice on the corners of my mouth to my incessantly shaking hands.

"Jeez, Kari, why are you awake?" I grumble.

"I could ask you the same," she says in her usual disinterested voice, folding her arms. I tap my finger on the empty glass in front of me.