“All week? What’s going on?” Keiko asks, much gentler.
“Dominik.”
“That arsehole. What’s he done now?”
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, K.”
Whilst Keiko and I aren’t exactly bosom buddies, we grew close at TGE, and she’s caught me dealing with Dominik’s antics a few times. That’s not sympathy in her voice; it’s exasperation. Relatable.
“Just tell Jared what’s happening, and as soon as possible. I’m sure he’ll understand. Don’t try to bulldoze through your problems alone like you always do.”
I bark out a laugh. She’s always had me pegged, and our line manager, Jared, is a decent guy.
“I’ll try. Thanks, K.”
We hang up, and I hover for a moment, wondering if I should head to the galley and get dinner. But that feeling from earlier persists, and I realise that I’m disappointed. Disappointed that my absence has only been noted by one person, and that’s because she had to cover for me.
I message the group chat I have with a few of my closest school friends.
Hey, just in case anyone might worry, I’ve gone away with Vee.
I almost delete it, suddenly embarrassed, but one of the girls replies before I can.
Fun! Anywhere nice? (Why would we worry?)
Work-related! Idk, just wanted to say in case you don’t hear from me.
Ha, no offence, Mar, we never hear from you. We know not to worry! You give the word focused a run for its money. You pop up when you pop up.
And I know—I tell myself, Iknow—that my friends are not the passive-aggressive types, that they say what they mean, and they mean what they say. It’s been nearly two decades, and my strongest friendships are the ones that have stood the test of time; we accept each other fully. I tell myself that what they’re saying is they don’t hold my priorities against me...but it still feels like someone kicked me right in the solar plexus.
If I went missing, how long would it take them to notice? I didn’t know they thought of me like this. I’m busy, and I can be single-minded, but I make time for the people I love. Don’t I?
Hunger makes itself known as I reel in the confines of my cabin, so I force myself to put the slate away. Putting away my anxious thoughts turns out to be harder, and I’m still ruminating as I head to the galley. Whilst plates are loaded, I send an email to Jared explaining that I’ve had a family emergency, embellishing the truth to garner sympathy, and hope that it’s enough to keep my job. That’d be just what I need after this mess: to come home to joblessness—another thing I’ll be holding Dominik responsible for.
Dev tugs my ear as he slides a plate in front of me, pulling me out of my head. His bruises from the micrometeorite swarmhave completely healed, and it’s hard not to be taken in by his kind face. I spare a smile for him. He nudges an open bottle of wine towards me, and I indulge along with the rest of them.
I eat until I’m stuffed, then sit back and listen to Vee gush about a game he’s excited for. As his neurotype became more obvious, I learned to understand his chase for dopamine. I’d still prefer to cut down on the hours he spends playing games, slot in some outside activities and a new hobby, but we managed to reach a compromise. We found our groove with his hyperfixations and since then, I’ve come to understand it’s more than just a hobby for him; it’s a passion. It makes him extremely happy. Now I just listen, only chiming in when I have a question. He’s the messiest little genius I’ve ever known. Even still, sometimes listening to him talk at length about something I know nothing about can put me right to sleep.
And I am exhausted, both physically and mentally. Thankfully, Vee’s never taken it personally. When it comes to his ADHD, I’m all in and all ears, but right now my lids are fluttering. Before I can nod off, I drag myself to my feet. And it’s literally a drag; the weight of settling back into artificial gravity almost crushed me. My body, sore and tense, can’t hold up for much longer without assistance. Now is the time to say my goodbyes whilst everyone is in the galley.
Before I leave, though, I place my dishes into the sanitiser and plop my chin on Dev’s shoulder. I like him, and he seems to be fond of me, too, though this is a little intimate—probably because of the wine. Sometimes I hate that, as adults, the only way to let our walls down seems to be through alcohol. But when I’m warm in its clutches, like now, it’s hard to remember why that’s so dangerous.
“Yes, my lamb leg?” Dev coos.
That nearly ends me. I laugh for ages before I can correct him. He rolls his eyes, but it’s good-natured. Across the table,our captain is in deep conversation with her number one fan and Beau. Khrys is half paying attention, scrolling through her slate with one hand. I’d asked about the stewards, but apparently, they keep an opposite sleep schedule to the crew, for obvious reasons. Having never been on a ship, it wasn’t obvious tome. I’d like to meet them, to thank them for cleaning up the mess from my tantrum and also apologise, as mortifying as that would be.
Dev tugs my arms so they hang over his shoulders, hands folded on his stomach. He smells like spices and something soft, subtle, but sweet. I think it’s his hair. “How was I supposed to know? What kind of stupid phrase is lamb chop anyway? It doesn’t make—Are you sniffing my hair?”
I pause and have the misfortune to catch the moment Tanisira slants a bemused look my way.
“Yes. Yes, I am. Is it a Suryavan thing to have the most delicious-smelling hair?” I inhale again, shamelessly.
“Have you been sniffing ourcaptain’shair?” he teases.
“Shh.” I drop my voice, hiding a weird and unexpected smile in the crook of his neck.
I really should have predicted this. I haven’t had much to drink at all,and on a normal day I wouldn’t even be tipsy. But this isn’t a normal day, and my tolerance is non-existent because of my shitty health. I’m halfway to being drunk as a fucking skunk.
