Newton’s First Law

      If you asked Kira Chen to describe herself in one word, she would most likely say, “efficient,” and then tell you to stop wasting her time with stupid questions. If you asked Joe Garver the same question, he would laugh and ask how he was ever supposed to choose just one word when there were thousands of amazing options. Then he would ask if you wanted coffee and by the time you left the coffee shop, you’d be fast friends.

     It was purely by chance that Kira and Joe wound up in the same astronomy class during her freshman year of college. Or maybe it was Fate, depending upon your outlook. Kira dreamed of becoming an astrophysicist, and took a seat at the front of the class, a fresh notebook at the ready to record meticulous notes. Joe took the class as an elective because stars seemed romantic and the vastness of space was terribly philosophic, and he slouched into a seat near the door two minutes after class began.  Their professor informed the class that they were encouraged to put in extra hours of sky gazing throughout the semester for extra credit. 

     This was how Kira found herself sharing a piece of desert outside of town with the rumpled slacker who always sat in the back of the lecture hall. It was not a development she was well equipped to handle. This was where she came to lose herself in the cosmos, tracking the steady motion of the stars. She didn’t expect to find Slacker Boy there, glancing at a book in his hand and then at the telescope he was struggling to adjust.

      He caught sight of Kira and waved. "Nice night for stargazing, huh?" he asked. Pursing her lips, Kira pointedly turned her back on him and set up her own telescope. She almost managed to forget he was there, until she heard a thud and a curse. She stood up straight and glared at where he had tripped over his own feet and knocked the telescope over as he fell. 

     "I think I can see the Big Dipper," he called to her from his place on the ground.

     "I can see the Big Doofus," she replied.

     He was there again the next weekend. Kira had hoped he'd be too embarrassed to come back, but there he was with his astronomy book balanced in one hand and his face shoved against the eyepiece of the telescope.

     "Are you an astronomy major?"

     His voice interrupted her concentration as she straightened to frown at him. He just smiled politely back, waiting for her answer, his eyes brown and innocent looking. Like a puppy. A big, annoying, floppy haired puppy. Kira had always been more of a cat person.

     "I'm a physics major," she said stiffly. "But my emphasis is astrophysics."

     "That's pretty cool. I'm Joe, by the way."

     Then he was in front of her, his hand sticking out for her to shake. There was so much space in the universe, and yet this puppy-eyed man was less than a foot away. Kira huffed a sigh.

     "Kira," she said, briefly returning his handshake.

     "It’s nice to officially meet you, Kira.” 

     She made some noncommittal noise in reply, returning her attention to her telescope as if it would save her from this conversation. The following Tuesday she was sitting in class, a fresh page of paper all ready for notes and assignments. She nearly fell out of her chair when Joe plopped himself casually into the seat beside hers. 

     “Morning,” he said, smothering a yawn. 

     “Did you just roll out of bed?” Kira asked. 

     “Of course. It’s nine in the morning.” He leaned back in his seat, flashing her a small smile before stifling another yawn. Kira narrowed her eyes. 

     “Did you know your shirt is inside out?” she asked, lips pursing with disapproval. Joe blinked, then glanced down at his t-shirt. 

     “Shit, is it? That’s embarrassing.” But he didn’t seem particularly embarrassed as he stood up, in plain view of the entire class, and yanked the shirt over his head to flip it right side out and pull it back on. A few people tittered with laughter and Professor Hannigan shot him a mildly exasperated look. Joe sat back down as if nothing had happened, while Kira sat there with her face flaming hotter than the sun. She tried to make a break for it when the lecture let out, but Joe easily kept stride with her. 

     “You’re good at this astronomy stuff, aren’t you?” Joe asked, walking backwards in front of her. He didn’t bump into anyone or even so much as trip and Kira found herself irrationally annoyed by that. 

     “It’s pretty easy to be good at it when you show up to class on time and pay attention,” she informed him, putting as much peevishness into her tone as she could. Joe, however, was unfazed. 

     “Maybe we can be stargazing partners,” he suggested. “This is all kinda new to me. I’m an English Lit major.”

     “Well that explains a lot,” Kira muttered and to her surprise he laughed. 

      “I’m not really looking for a study buddy,” she said, disarmed by his unflappable manner. 

      “That’s the fun thing about life,” he replied. “Things like study buddies tend to show up precisely when you’re not looking for them.” 

     Joe became a fixture in her desert. Every night that they met, he would ask Kira as many questions about herself as he did about the night sky; as though he intended to take a final exam on All Things Kira. She hadn't even realized she’d been giving him the materials to pass that exam until one evening when he brought her a towering roast beef sandwich from her favorite deli. And here she had thought he didn’t take notes. He seemed to sense that he’d surprised her and was proud of the fact. 

     "Why do you always come to this spot?" he asked her as she reluctantly accepted the sandwich. 

     "It's normally quiet," she replied, shooting him a cool glance. He didn’t look chagrined, only mildly amused. 

     "So what got you so interested in the sky in the first place?” 

     "Its size, for one.” Kira glanced up. “We’re just suspended in this void, existing in the same place as billions of billions of other planets yet they’re so far away that we’ll never reach them. Most of the light we see comes from stars tha are already dead, you know. It just takes their light ages to reach us."

     "Isn't that kind of depressing?"

     "I don't think so. It’s like a message in a bottle, only it travels through space instead of water.” 

     Joe gave her a long look. "That was dangerously poetic, Miss Chen. I think I might be rubbing off on you.” 

     “Don’t say things like that,” she said with a shudder, but the words had no bite. Joe had made her feel unbalanced with his easygoing mannerisms and unflinching cheerfulness, but now she found herself feeling unsteady for entirely different reasons. She looked him squarely in the eye. 

     “Why do you come to this spot?” she asked. His eyebrow arched. 

     “Newton’s First Law of Motion,” Joe said. Kira blinked. 

     “What?” 

     “It states that an object in motion will remain in motion going in a straight line.”

      “I know about inertia,” Kira frowned. “But what does that have to do with anything?” 

      “It applies to matters of the heart as much as to rocket ships,” Joe explained, annoyingly patient. “Once you start falling for someone there’s no stopping the trajectory. You remain in a perpetual state of falling.”

      “For me?” Kira asked, unable to keep her voice from squeaking with incredulity. “You drag yourself out here every weekend because you like me?” 

      “Honestly, I didn’t think it would take you this long to figure it out. I was under the impression that you were something of an overachiever.”

     “But we’re so different,” Kira protested. “You’re so…” She trailed off and simply gestured at him, as if that could somehow convey the point that he was charming and laid back and quick to smile, while she was serious and secretly terrified of human interaction.

      “Devilishly handsome?” Joe supplied and she couldn’t even muster up any real exasperation when he was grinning at her. “Come on, Kira. Cupid’s First Law is that the heart wants what the heart wants. And I fell for you on day one. You saw it happen.” 

      “That is so cheesy,” she groaned. “You fell because you’re a doofus, which I called you right to your face.” 

      “Yeah,” he laughed, “and who actually uses the word doofus? It was the cutest thing I’d ever heard. So, can I ask you out now?” 

      Kira glanced at her telescope and then met his gaze, feeling as if the axis of her world had stabilized again. There were so many things out there in space that they’d never get to see or touch, but she supposed that there were also wonders much closer to home. 

      “I’m free right now,” she replied.