The Loneliest Girl in the Universe

My body suddenly feels too big for me, too grown-up and strong for the young girl inside it. I’m not ready to be this person, in this situation. I can’t think about this. I refuse.

It’s enough just to know how old he is for now. J is twenty-two, a boy, clever and funny – and, best of all, apparently interested in talking to me. It’s flattering in a confusing, lovely way.

From: The Infinity Sent: 03/04/2067

To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 02/07/2067

J,

I’m so glad you finally told me about yourself. I had been wondering who you were. It’s amazing that you’re only 22 and you’re an astronaut. That’s so impressive.

I’m not really sure what to tell you about myself in return, but here are some facts about me.

? I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t related to me.

? I’m never going to see planet Earth.

? I’m the only person to have ever been born in space. (I know you know this one already. But this is the only interesting thing about me! I’m really boring, honestly.)

? I love writing.

? I can tell you more things I’ve never done than things I have done.

Romy





DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:


327


Today, in my endless search for every bit of data from Earth that I have saved on my hard drive, I somehow found myself looking through the old security footage from the ship. Recordings from years ago are still archived, stretching all the way back to when I was a baby. From before everything went wrong.

I find a clip of Dad in The Infinity’s kitchen, feeding me some kind of mashed-up food and cooing to me gently. The cameras are in the ceiling, so the angle is too high to see our faces – just the top of our heads in the corner of the picture. The rest of the shot captures the curve of the clean white wall, the chrome fittings shining in the fluorescent lights.

I can tell that I’m happy. My chubby arms wave around, knocking the baby food across my high chair. Dad tips his head back and laughs. I can make out the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. My heart bumps.

He leans over and kisses my forehead before he starts cleaning up.

I watch until the door slides open as my mother enters the room and starts talking to Dad. She’s smiling.

Suddenly the ache in my throat is gone. Here is my mother, smiling, laughing, joking. This is what my parents’ marriage must have been like, when my mother could look at Dad and me without seeing the faces of the astronauts.

She looks like a different person. Contented and carefree. The recording shows me the mother I might have had, if things had been different.

I close down the file, feeling worse than I did before.





DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:


322


From: The Eternity Sent: 07/11/2065

To: The Infinity Received: 09/04/2067

Romy,

I’ve been trying to imagine what kind of messages you’re sending me. Presuming that you are, and that you’re being friendly, I’ve come up with a few questions you might have asked. So I’m going to answer your hypothetical questions. That way you don’t have to wait months for answers!

What do you look like?

I’ve got brown hair and brown eyes and all of my teeth. I’m five foot nine.

When’s your birthday?

In seven months, twenty days on June 27th. Hope you got me something nice!

What do you think Earth II will be like?

I have no idea. That seems so far off that I’ve not even thought about it yet. I like the two suns. I’ve been running simulations during my training and it all looks kind of like a giant desert.

Speaking of the training – is yours as algebraic as mine? I thought we were supposed to be starting a new civilization, not solving Fermat’s last theorem!

Before the launch, NASA Earth told me that you’ve been studying astrophysics since you were eight. That’s really impressive, Romy. I can’t believe you’re only sixteen and you’re at the same level as I am. You’re really cool.

Do you miss your family?

I don’t really have much family. Both of my parents died when I was young. You don’t need to tell me that you’re sorry or anything – it’s not your fault, right? Anyway, it was a long time ago. Though time doesn’t really make any difference to pain. It never disappears.

I still catch myself making a note of scandalous things to tell my mom (she was a really big gossip). I still remember the smell of my father’s cologne.

I still get unbelievably angry when I think about how young they were when they died. It’s so unfair that preventable things happen to good people, just through carelessness. That pain hasn’t dulled at all.

Anyway, the answer to my self-asked question is that I always miss my family, but that’s nothing new.

What’s your favourite animal?

Seals. Whenever I get sad, I watch videos of seals on YouTube. They’re basically mermaid dogs, and they are all giant idiots. I love them.

What should I do about my [miscellaneous illness]?

Take some penicillin and/or vitamins. I told you, I dropped out of college after two years. I can’t help you much.

So … was I close? Are these the questions you’ve been asking? Was I even in the vicinity of being close? Do you care about my life at all?

J


I’ve got really bad period pains today, so I decide to make a blanket fort. I balance blankets over the top of the lounge area so that the sofa, set into the floor, turns into a tiny, comfy cocoon.

The fabric tinges the light a peaceful shade of pink, and I curl up inside my fort and listen to the softest classical music I can find. I reread all of J’s emails, one after the other, coming back again and again to the description of what he looks like, from today’s email.

Brown hair and eyes. Five foot nine.

I sketch a doodle of how I picture him in my head. He comes out looking like Jayden Ness, with a mess of tight curls on his head, and long eyelashes surrounding eyes filled with warmth. He’s smiling a bright, brilliant smile, one hand raised in a wave.

I carefully tape it to the wall next to my bunk so I can look at it before I go to sleep. With J and Jayden to look at, I feel safer. Like they’re watching over me.

From: The Infinity Sent: 09/04/2067

To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 05/07/2067

J,

Your last message was like seeing inside my own head. The way you feel about your parents – that’s exactly how I feel about mine too. It’s like you’ve been reading my diary. (I don’t write a diary, but still.)

I really am sorry they died, even though you told me not to say that. You don’t deserve to have had such a horrible thing happen to you. I can’t stop thinking about you being left alone like that. I just want to go back in time and give you the biggest, warmest hug you’ve ever had.

How did they die? Did you decide to apply for The Eternity’s mission because of their deaths? You don’t have to tell me if it’s too raw. I still can’t even think about my parents’ deaths, let alone talk about them. It just – it feels less real if I don’t focus on the details.

On a lighter note, happy belated birthday for … last year. Ahem. Well, it’s the thought that counts. Maybe this message will get to you by your next birthday instead.

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