Easy Breathing

Before we start, I’d like to clarify that this is not an ad campaign for the Moon. But if someone were to approach me and ask me to tell the good people of Earth what it’s like—and offer me a sizable amount of cash—this is definitely what I’d tell them. It’s the perfect utopia-like occurrence that‘s usually followed by something tragic. So far, I haven’t seen that giant asteroid or deathly plague that’s supposed to wipe away this stupid, giddy smile tacked to my face. And hell, I’m not complaining.

I went to the moon to get away from my parents. It might sound dramatic, but it was the best decision of my life. People have been moving to the moon for a few decades now, and based on their video logs, everything seemed to be going well. I probably could have moved across the country, but instead, I submitted an online form to be considered for the Ascendants, Class VI. It felt just like applying for a job—which I had been doing, with zero luck, for about six months already—but within three months of hitting “submit”, I was on the moon.

I was assigned a cabin. When I got inside, passed the pressure lock, I was looking forward to taking off the bulky space suit, when I heard, “Need help?”

I whirled around—very clumsily, given the suit—and found that a man was in my supposed cabin, wearing plainclothes and looking very unsurprised to see me.

He seemed to be in his mid-twenties, like me, but there was an ease to him that I hadn’t yet found. No, for the few years after graduating with a useless college degree—I had only been flailing. Despite being on the moon, I still felt like I was reaching for something. Somehow, I knew he could teach me to breathe.

It was probably the cheesiest moment of my life. I mentally slapped the silly off of my face and got practical. “Who are you? They told me this was my cabin.”

The man stuck his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “They never really tell newcomers the whole story.”

“So this isn’t my cabin?”

“It is. Yours. And mine.”

I gawked at him, but it didn’t take me long to understand. Of course they wouldn’t have put that in the brochure. “Oh,” is all I said. A voice in me insisted that I don’t mess up this new beginning, no matter what existing judgements I had about men. (Not favorable ones, is all I’ll say).

“Yeah,” he shrugged again. He seemed extremely harmless. I was tempted to instantly distrust him, but I followed the curious voice instead. “So. Do you need help?” He gestured to my suit. I had clothes on underneath, of course, so I really didn’t have a problem saying yes. I would normally have had a problem saying yes. But it felt to easy to accept his help. God knows I would have made a fool of myself trying to get out of the suit on my own.

When the suit was off, he took it to a closet, where his own space suit—gray instead of blue—was propped up on some kind of rig. It felt kind of gratifying, to watch our suits standing side-by-side.

Which reminded me...”Um, What’s your name?”

“Hiral.”

“Isn’t that a girl’s name?” I let slip.

Another shrug. “My parents were hoping for a girl.” I saw a flicker of resentment in those eyes that had seemed so placid. I blinked.

“Sorry,” I said, as I realized I might have something in common with my new...roommate. “I’m Kim.” My name had no story. 

Hiral put his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Kim.” His hand was warm and almost clammy. He was nervous. Good. At least he wasn’t a robot. (That was a real possibility. There were robots on the moon. One had helped us disembark the spacecraft. Another had pointed me to this very cabin).

“You too,” I smiled, and I meant it. Saying that smile was refreshing is an understatement. Until that moment, getting a glimpse at my new life, my every smile had been forced, sarcastic, or teasingly brief. This one was real.

I tried to convince myself that my smile was the result of the distance between me and my parents, but that knowing little voice whispered otherwise.

“Why did you decide to Ascend, Kim?”

I almost shrugged, but then ridiculously wondered if I would be copying him. I bit my lip instead, contemplating truth versus fabrication. There had been so much fabrication forced upon her already... “I needed to get away from...people holding me back.” Citing her parents seemed childish.

“This is the perfect place for that,” he said. “Here, I’m Hiral with a future, not Hiral who should have been someone else, done something else, loved someone else...”

My heart did a little sympathy patter. “I understand.” I paused. “My parents were asking for too much. I hadn’t even started to live yet.”

“Being here is all about living,” said Hiral.

I just breathed in. And out. Something left me that would never haunt me again. 

Hiral really had been expecting me. They told him a little about me, and I found it odd to hear bits of my application profile laced into our conversation. He knew I liked the color purple, the smell of jasmine, the feel of cotton. That I was a night owl, suffered from anxiety, was deathly afraid of fire. And the slam dunk—he had prepared spinach risotto for dinner because I’d listed it as my favorite meal. I stared at the little kitchen table for a good thirty seconds before stammering out a weak thank you.

I realized that the rich guy who had founded the Ascendants program really was a genius. The uncomfortable idea that I might have to...be...with Hiral was the last thing on my mind (except when it first occurred to me). All I could think of is that we were off to a great start because I’d never had a friend who was so natural to be around. 

But I definitely fell in love as soon as I tasted the risotto.