Chapter Fourteen
I’ve decided to approach this whole simulation from a new angle. I’m not planning on crossing any boundaries, but I am going to try and open myself up more to the team.
Now that I’ve decided to stop focusing on Roman being a plant, my mind feels free not only to focus on winning the money for the library remodel but also to make this a good experience for everyone. I’m really getting the hang of this whole bond-with-your-crewmates thing. We’ve got our daily routine established, where we spend the days working then bond in the evening.
“Do y’all want to play a game?” I ask, half expecting to be met with nos.
When they follow me to the couches without any grumbling, I’m so happy I’m tempted to praise them with something like “That’s the spirit!” but I’m aware that may not go over too well.
“Why are you cheesin’ like that?” Angie asks me.
I immediately drop my smile to spare them from the sight of my gums.
“Aww, don’t listen to her,” Simone says. “Your smile is cute. Isn’t it, Jordan?”
“Uh, yeah,” Jordan says, clearly uncomfortable.
I don’t know if he’s uncomfortable because he doesn’t, in fact, think my smile is cute, or if he simply doesn’t want to look at his vice principal that way. Either way, I don’t care. If Simone really wanted to know what anyone thinks about my smile, she should’ve asked Roman. I would love to know his answer.
I school my face. “So I was thinking we could play something to help pass the time and bring us all a little closer. As you all know, a team will work better and more cohesively if they can trust one another.” At the last bit, I look at Roman and offer a slight smile. Part in acknowledgment that I was stating the truth before and I’m trying not to be so suspicious of him and part in apology. Roman doesn’t exactly smile back, but his eyes do soften.
“That’s a good idea,” Jordan says from beside me. “What did you have in mind?”
“Charades?”
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Angie says.
“No,” Simone says. “It sounds fun. Brianna, you go first.” She gives me a little nudge. Or at least what I assume was supposed to be a nudge. I almost go flying off the couch and into Roman’s lap. But I stand up and think for a second before making any movements.
Once I have it, I start moving my hands, gesturing in the air.
“Three words!” Simone calls out, and I nod, moving on to the next gesture.
“Walking the dog,” Angie says, and I shake my head.
“Mopping the floor” is Jordan’s guess, which garners another head shake.
“Playing kiddie games when you could be on the warm beaches of Cancún!” Angie says.
I stop and frown at her, holding up three fingers again pointedly.
Angie sighs and slumps in her seat.
I go back to the motion I was doing, slower this time.
“Yeah, you doing it slower is still not making it any easier,” Jordan says, sounding on the verge of defeat.
Clearly this idea has backfired, and everyone is not having a good time. It might be time to throw in the towel.
“Icing a cake,” Roman says.
I beam, jumping up and down. “You got it!” Now the show is getting started. I point at him. “Your turn.” When he looks ready to protest, I shake my head. “I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.”
Roman sighs and gets up. He stands in front of us, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and I take this opportunity to let my eyes feast on the man. After a few seconds he nods to himself and holds up his hand.
“One word,” Jordan says, and Roman nods.
Roman stands still, but his hands keep moving. I’m momentarily hypnotized by their adeptness. How capable they look. Who needs tentacles when you have long fingers like Roman’s?
“Reading a book. Drinking coffee. Playing basketball,” Jordan calls out, rapid-fire. He really wants to win, but his answers are so off-the-wall and clearly not what Roman is doing.
After a few more wrong guesses from both Jordan and Simone, and Angie not even trying, I finally say, “Typing!”
“Yeah!” Roman says before schooling his features. “You got it.”
“Man, that was my next guess,” Jordan complains. “Does that mean Brianna gets to go again?”
“Them’s the rules!” I say, hopping up again.
As Roman heads back to his seat, we look at each other in passing.
Try to get this one , I say with a lift of my eyebrow.
It’s already in the bag , the lift of his smile says.
This time, my category is sports. I suck in a deep breath, spin in a circle, then fling my right arm out.
“Volleyball!” Jordan shouts.
“Darts,” says Angie.
“Frisbee throwing?” Simone tries.
I point at her, then put my thumb and index finger close together so she knows she’s on the right track. She leans forward with her face set, but all of hers and the others’ follow-up answers miss the mark.
“Discus throwing,” Roman finally says.
I point at him. “That’s it.”
“Dang, again? Y’all must be cheating,” Angie complains.
Not cheating. Somehow Roman just seems to get me. He catches my eye as we switch positions again, challenging me to guess his word again.
I do. It feels good, like we’re on the same team against everyone else to get the most guesses correct, though I’m not keeping score—unless counting how many times Roman lets loose that beautiful smile of his counts (it was eight times).
“Let’s play a different game,” Simone says after Angie and Jordan give up. “I brought Jenga.”
She goes off to the room while we wait. Suddenly, there’s a big crash followed by a screaming Simone rushing out. “Spider! Spider!”
Angie gasps and puts a hand to her chest. “They’ve got spiders on Mars? What the hell kind of planet did you bring me to, Jordan?”
“Simone, it’s okay,” I try to soothe as she runs around, swatting at her clothes and hair. “Let me check that there’s nothing on you. If there is a spider, I’m sure it’s harmless.”
“It’s in my hair. It’s on my back. Get it off!”
I try to help her, but Simone must have been some sort of track star, because she runs around the Hab like she’s in the last stretch of a four-hundred-meter sprint. Before I can get to her, Simone opens the door. She blazes through the tunnel, opens the hatch, and sets out into the red sand.
Instantly, red lights flash. Loud warning buzzes sound through the comms speakers. A computer voice screams from the system. With all the chaos of Simone’s screaming and all of us yelling at her to come back in, the only thing I’m able to make out from the PA is a detection of loss of oxygen in the Hab and a teammate going out without a helmet. I don’t pay it any mind. I’m in the tunnel, five steps away from going out of the Hab to bring Simone back in, when I feel a firm grip on my wrist. I look back to find Roman holding on to me.
“You can’t go out there,” he says, shaking his head.
I try to pull away from him anyway, but his grip doesn’t loosen.
“Simone, come back!” I shout.
Warning, oxygen levels critical. Will become critically low to sustain life in thirty seconds.
I hear the computer loud and clear this time.
“Simone, please come back inside,” Jordan says. “We have to close the doors or we’ll all lose.”
Simone can’t hear anything we say. She’s too busy fighting for her life out there. With another warning from the computer, Jordan sighs and shuts the hatch. Roman pulls me back through the tunnel and inside the Hab so Jordan can close that door too.
We watch on until finally there is a signal that one of our teammates has perished due to exposure to Martian atmosphere with no protective clothing and no breathable oxygen. Simone’s life vitals flash red while everyone else’s remain green.
With one last tug, I pull my wrist from Roman’s grip and hug myself.
While the chaos of the flashing lights and Simone’s departure made my heart go into overdrive, when it comes down to it, the simulation is just that—a simulation. No teachers are harmed in the making of such sweat-inducing performances. A few minutes after Simone’s vitals go out, she finally calms down enough to realize there are no spiders on her. We watch through the screen as she looks around her, looking sad and a bit lost, until the workers come from who knows where and escort her out of sight.
“Welp…that was anticlimactic,” Angie says.
“And then there were four,” Jordan tacks on.
I sigh. “I’m going to go to bed. See y’all in the morning.”
“Wait!” Angie says. “Did you just forget about there’s a whole-ass spider? I, for one, won’t be able to sleep knowing it could be crawling around in our room.”
“I’ll get it,” I say, making my way to the room.
I stop at Simone’s bed, scanning the sheets for any signs of a spider. I move her bag on the bed, look under the pillow, look around the small nightstand, and don’t see anything. My eyes land on the picture of Simone’s family, and I can’t help the tears that come to the surface.
Simone was going to take her kids on a trip and ensure they had a good start to life with the money she’d earn here. It’s not fair.
I wonder if I could have done something differently. Maybe if I hadn’t pushed so hard for us to all get along. Logically I know it’s not my fault a spider just happened to make an appearance and that Simone is terrified of them, but I can’t help but imagine what Superintendent Watts would say: Did you hear about the vice principal who had a new library for her school within her grasp but then let it slip away? She was part of a simulation, and she got too close with the teachers. She was worrying about their personal lives instead of focusing on the prize.
“Are you okay?” Roman says.
I didn’t realize anyone had followed me in. I quickly blink a few times, trying to get rid of any trace of tears. When that doesn’t work, I fake a yawn as I turn around. Lots of people cry when they yawn.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Actually, it’s been a long day, and I’m beat. But I’m happy to report that there are no signs of any spiders. Or maybe if you’re looking at it from Angie’s point of view, it’s actually not great news.” I shrug. “Anyway, I’m going to get some rest.”
At the mention of the spider, Roman glances behind me with concern etched onto his handsome face. He tries to play it off, clearing his throat as he continues to study me. “It’s okay if you’re upset about Simone being eliminated. But there’s nothing you could have done. You know that, right?”
No, I don’t. For all I know, I could have run outside and pulled Simone back into the Hab before it was too late if Roman hadn’t clamped on to my wrist like a vise.
I raise my arm to my chest and place my hand on the spot where Roman grabbed me. Everything happened so fast, I can’t even recall what his skin felt like on mine. We’ve bumped into each other and helped each other with our space suits, but we’ve never really touched. Were his hands warm or cool? They must have been warm. What about his palm? Smooth? Calloused?
Roman’s eyes flit to my wrist, like he’s making the same realization I have. He works his jaw like he’s about to say something, and for some inexplicable reason, something inside of me panics. I drop my arm and fake-yawn again, which turns into a real yawn that has my jaw feeling like it’s about to pop out of its socket and I’m sure is probably one of the least attractive things Roman has ever seen.
“Wow, excuse me,” I say. “I really am exhausted.”
“I better let you get to bed then. I’ll see you in the morning.” He backs away, pausing at the door with his hand on the doorframe. “For what it’s worth, your idea for game night was good.” He looks around to make sure no one is near enough to hear him. “I had a lot of fun.” And then he’s gone.
Before a stupid grin can overtake my face, Angie pokes her head through the doorway, her body nowhere to be seen. “Did you get the spider?”
I walk to my bed and climb in. “Don’t worry, Angie. You’re safe.” My heart? Not so much.