Beneath the Red Sand

9 || Chapter Nine

Alone in my dance studio, I channel my emotions into movement, wild and fluid and free. With each beat, I let go more — of the ache in my chest as I think of Earth, and Anna, and Ben. Of my aunt and uncle. Of my room overlooking the ocean. Of the pulsing fear of not being good enough to make the excavation team, the one thing that can make being stuck here on Mars worthwhile. The scent of paint and new hardwood flooring, the flashing of fluorescent light as I catch glimpses of myself twirling faster and faster in the mirror, the thrumming of the music like a heartbeat, all mingle in my senses as the music reaches a crescendo.

When I'm done an hour later, I gratefully sink to the floor and stretch my sore muscles--the one thing I can do to keep them from the worst of the burning and stiffness tomorrow morning when I wake. It's not like there's a hot tub here to soak in.

My body is drenched with sweat, and I'm limping a bit as I trudge back to the apartment, all along the endless corridors until I reach D-255. Mom and Dad aren't home yet, so I figure I've got enough time to shower before dinner and peel off my leotard. Clean and refreshed after washing my hair and scrubbing my body, I dress in jeans and my favorite fuzzy purple sweater. I'm not ready to wear the crisp white uniform with navy trim most people use all the time, at least, not during off-hours. Not yet.

While I wait for Mom and Dad to show, I check my email. Maybe I've heard back from Anna and Ben. It takes forever to boot up the computer, and while I wait, I flop onto my bed. I stretch my limbs, kick my feet, drum my nails on the dark wood headboard, explore the wavy and curlycue patterns with my fingertips. I'm not a patient person. Sighing, I stand, stretch, and take two quick steps over to my desk. Maybe glaring at the screen will make it work faster. Then--finally!--I get the welcome screen that lets me check my email.

Score! I have new messages from both of them.

Kassi,

Oh, thank God you're okay! Mom and I have been watching the news replay the crash over and over. I knew you wouldn't die on me like that, even if you did have to leave me here with a mopey Ben and no best friend to vid chat with when I need you.

And, yes, Ben is mopey without you. You'll be happy to know that Nicole is about ready to abandon getting him to go out with her, and I've been not-so-subtly giving her the kick in the pants she needs to do it. As in, I smacked some sense into the girl yesterday when for the millionth time she didn't get the hint that she's not on his radar. No girl is, at least, not right now.

Miss you like crazy, as always, but I'm glad you've met someone cool to hang out with. I wish I could meet this Jacqueline. I'm sure we'd get along. So sorry about her brother. Make sure she knows she'd better be nice to you, or I'll find a way to sneak on the next supply shuttle and give her some of the Anna treatment, too. Wait...you are getting supply shuttles, aren't you? If it gets too awful, you can always sneak back home. Mom would have to take you in.

Wow, the atrium you told me about sounds ahMAZing1 You've got to send pics. Oh, you did. Woah...so cool. Anyway, sounds like you've got a lot going on here. Not much happens here, as usual. I did join the photography club, and it's awesome! We have an exhibit at the local gallery next month. I'm so nervous...they're showing three of my photographs: a seascape at sunset, a mother bird feeding her babies in their nest, and our neighbor's award-winning garden.

Wish me luck and write back soon!

XOXO,

Anna

I'm crying and laughing and sniffling as I finish her letter. I hold it close against my chest. It makes me miss her--and home--so much there's an ache in my heart that might never go away. If there were a supply shuttle, I'd be sneaking on it right now to head straight back home. Too bad I can't. There won't be a supply shuttle, not for years. I thought Anna knew that, but maybe she's being optimistic.