SIXTEEN
Loneliness is a strange sort of thing.
It creeps up on you, quiet and still, sits by your side in the dark, strokes your hair as you sleep. It wraps itself around your bones, squeezing so tight you almost can’t breathe. It leaves lies in your heart, lies next to you at night, leaches the light out from every corner. It’s a constant companion, clasping your hand only to yank you down when you’re struggling to stand up.
You wake up in the morning and wonder who you are. You fail to fall asleep at night and tremble in your skin. You doubt you doubt you doubt do I
don’t I
should I
why won’t I
And even when you’re ready to let go. When you’re ready to break free. When you’re ready to be brand-new. Loneliness is an old friend standing beside you in the mirror, looking you in the eye, challenging you to live your life without it. You can’t find the words to fight yourself, to fight the words screaming that you’re not enough never enough never ever enough.
Loneliness is a bitter, wretched companion.
Sometimes it just won’t let go.
“Helloooooo?”
I blink and gasp and flinch away from the fingers snapping in front of my face as the familiar stone walls of Omega Point come back into focus. I manage to spin around.
Kenji is staring at me.
“What?” I shoot him a panicked, nervous look as I clasp and unclasp my ungloved hands, wishing I had something warm to wrap my fingers in. This suit does not come with pockets and I wasn’t able to salvage the gloves I ruined in the research rooms. I haven’t received any replacements, either.
“You’re early,” Kenji says to me, cocking his head, watching me with eyes both surprised and curious.
I shrug and try to hide my face, unwilling to admit that I hardly slept through the night. I’ve been awake since 3:00 a.m., fully dressed and ready to go by 4:00. I’ve been dying for an excuse to fill my mind with things that have nothing to do with my own thoughts. “I’m excited,” I lie. “What are we doing today?”
He shakes his head a bit. Squints at something over my shoulder as he speaks to me. “You, um”—he clears his throat—“you okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly. “Just, you know.” A haphazard gesture toward my face. “You don’t look so good, princess. You look kind of like you did that first day you showed up with Warner back on base. All scared and dead-looking and, no offense, but you look like you could use a shower.”
I smile and pretend I can’t feel my face shaking from the effort. I try to relax my shoulders, try to look normal, calm, when I say, “I’m fine. Really.” I drop my eyes. “I’m just—it’s a little cold down here, that’s all. I’m not used to being without my gloves.”
Kenji is nodding, still not looking at me. “Right. Well. He’s going to be okay, you know.”
“What?” Breathing. I’m so bad at breathing.
“Kent.” He turns to me. “Your boyfriend. Adam. He’s going to be fine.”
1 word, 1 simple, stupid reminder of him startles the butterflies sleeping in my stomach before I remember that Adam is not my boyfriend anymore. He’s not my anything anymore. He can’t be.
And the butterflies drop dead.
This.
I can’t do this.
“So,” I say too brightly. “Shouldn’t we get going? We should get going, right?”
Kenji shoots me an odd look but doesn’t comment. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, sure. Follow me.”