A Cosmic Kind of Love Read Online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
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And I needed family.

I needed support to figure out my path forward.

The only person left in my life who could truly give that to me was Aunt Richelle.

* * *

It was late. Or early. The sun had long set, the hands on the grandfather clock in the dining room had passed midnight. And for the first time in months, I didn’t feel restless. Aunt Richelle and I had eaten out back, watching the surf meet the golden shores. We’d drunk beer, talked about my worries, my future, about her paintings, and her neighbor’s hatred of Bandit.

A few hours. That’s all it took for me to feel like I wasn’t so off-balance anymore.

Aunt Richelle had departed for bed before midnight, leaving me on the porch swing out back. I sat for hours in the dark, just listening to the soothing sound of gentle waves lapping at the beach.

The sound of my phone beeping at my side jolted me, and I cursed at the disruption as I reached for it.

I frowned, seeing the notification.

Another email from Kate at NASA.

Chris,

Got another. Do you want me to bounce this one too?

Kate

What the . . .

I opened the attached video, and it was the pink-haired woman again.

Maybe it was my more relaxed mood, but this time I watched the whole thing.

FIVE

Hallie

I got to use the MinION again today. I don’t think I’ve told you about it, but I know you’ll think it’s clever. It’s a portable DNA sequencer, and today I was using it to extract DNA from samples of space bacteria. I am sequencing DNA in space without a lab, just with a MinION. Here’s how it works: I take samples of bacteria found onboard the ISS, use the MinION to extract the DNA, sequence it, and see if it’s changed or evolved. The results help us diagnose illnesses up here, and we can identify microbes growing on the station and figure out if they might be a threat to our health. These experiments are important for us while we’re onboard, but there’s a possibility this could be used in the future to identify DNA-based life-forms found in space. It’s all very cool. I feel like a mad scientist and . . . I needed the work today, the distraction. Tom said something to me a while back that’s been playing on my mind ever since, and the closer I get to returning to Earth, the more I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m . . . I’m worried about the future, Darce. I’m worried what I’ll do when I get back.

Fuck, I haven’t admitted that to anyone up here. It seems ridiculous to be anxious about it while I’ve got weeks to go, so much to experience and enjoy. But I can’t help it. I wonder what comes after this. I wonder how I ever move on from an experience like this. I worry that nothing is ever enough for my father. You get that, right? I know you get that.

Ah, well . . . I guess there are no answers right now. I have to focus on this current mission. But . . . I feel better for saying it out loud, for telling you. Maybe you’ll have some words of encouragement to keep me going, keep me living in the now. I miss you. I miss Aunt Richelle and even that crazy dog. I guess every day can’t be all sunshine and roses on the International Space Station—so to speak. But I’m okay. I’m always okay. This helped. Thanks, gorgeous. Talk soon.

—CAPTAIN CHRISTOPHER ORTIZ, VIDEO DIARY #6

At first, when my email bounced, I felt disappointed. I had so wanted to relieve myself of the guilt of having watched Christopher Ortiz’s video letters. However, when I got home that night after an unbelievable day that honestly made this week the most ridiculous week of my life, I saw it as an opportunity.

I realized I had felt so much better when I made the video confessing that I’d watched his video letters. It felt good to put that out there into the universe.

Maybe I didn’t need someone at the end of the video to still feel good about venting about my life. I felt like I couldn’t vent to my friends because no one seemed to take me seriously anymore. Althea did . . . but I was a little worried if I told her too much, she’d start to see me as a joke too.

I could treat the video like a kind of diary, sending it out into the internet as if it were going to reach Chris, while safe knowing that my private thoughts were still my own. Perhaps that was silly. I said all this into the camera as I sat before my laptop that evening to tell “Chris” about my week.


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