So Many Thousands of Feet Off the Ground

Savanya woke up experiencing more than her fair share of confusion. The t-shirt she was wearing wasn’t hers and the bed she was in wasn’t hers either. She tried to sit, desperately trying to rummage through her memories to figure out what happened, but she couldn’t move very far. There was an arm hanging over her waist and she could just make out in the mirror that it belonged to Kennedy. She pursed her lips, trying to get a good look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back and there was actually some color in her cheeks. She looked almost normal and she was horrified.

Kennedy began to stir, and she slid back under the covers pretending to be asleep rather than face the awkward conversation that was surely to come. He pulled her tighter into his arms, nuzzling his way into her neck before drifting off again. He was a cuddler and that wasn’t something Savanya was sure she could handle, though comfort was something she desperately needed.

It was raining out. Pouring actually, she could see through the window. It was like it was her first day back in Arizona. But the rain reminded her of tears and then she remembered how she wound up in a practical stranger’s bed wearing nothing but his t-shirt. She’d had a mental breakdown, a complete and total meltdown in the parking lot of the nearest IHOP. She shuddered, not sure of how good this made her look. He probably thought she did this all the time. Have sex with a stranger.

A loud pounding on the door ripped her away from her thoughts and Kennedy jumped at the suddenness. “Someone’s at the door,” she said softly, licking her lips and trying to gather up enough saliva to just moisten her pallet.

“I know,” he whispered back, burying her face back in the crook of her neck, “we can pretend that we’re not home.” She grinned lightly to herself, settling back into his embrace until the knocking started again, this time accompanied by the buzzing of Kennedy’s cell phone.
Savanya frowned slightly. It had been a long time since she had been this at ease and she could only imagine that it was Garrett ruining this. “I’ll be right back,” Kennedy muttered, placing a light kiss on her forehead. He was so incredibly annoyed as he yanked his shirt over his head, leaving the room in just a shirt and boxers.

“What?” he asked, pulling the door open, revealing none other than Garrett. “What could you possibly need so desperately right now?” The bitterness in his tone leaked into every fiber of every word.

“It would be nice if the guitarist showed up to practice.”

“Yeah, well, something came up, Garrett. Can I just call you later, man?” He wiped his brow and pushed his hair out of his face.

“What came up? A nap?” Garrett asked, a smirk climbing to his face, “or did you finally nail the mute?” Savanya stopped breathing.

“She’s not a mute, and no. She was sick. I stayed back to try and take care of her. She just fell asleep and you woke her up.” She was shocked that Kennedy would like to his friend like that for her. Maybe he didn’t think so lowly of her. Or maybe he did and that’s what was going on here.

“Oh, please,” Garrett laughed. “Ken, man, your crush has gotten so out of hand it’s ridiculous.”

“Gar, please, leave,” Kennedy responded harshly, pushing the door closed in his friend’s face. He was eager to get back to Savanya. He felt petrified at the idea of her overhearing Garrett, but he knew she had. When he returned to the bedroom her cheeks were drenched with tears he had already wiped away once today.

“So, what? Was I just a conquest?” Savanya choked. “I mean, I guess you might not be like that, but was it a game? Fuck and chuck the emotionally unstable roommate?”

“Sav, it wasn’t like that. I swear.” He looked genuinely sorry, so when he approached the bed she didn’t flee. “You mean—this sounds ridiculous since I hardly know you—but you mean a lot to me.”

Savanya whimpered a little and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Then why were you so quick to have sex with me?”

“I wasn’t,” he whispered, his throat drying up as the words formed in his throat, “I was in a rush to make you feel loved because you always look so damn hurt and I don’t know how to help you.”

“You shouldn’t help me,” Savanya yelled, “I’m no good. I’ll just hurt you.”



It had been two days since she mysteriously awoke in Kennedy’s bed when she read the name in the obituaries on the Internet. She was honestly surprised it had taken this long and she could only imagine how angry her family must be at her for leaving. But maybe they understood.

She could feel the desperation rise up through her throat in the form of a sob she couldn’t contain. The tears fell like acid on her cheeks, running off and sliding down her neck, her palms, her chest. It took all of her restraint to keep breathing and not just bury her head in the pillows and let herself suffocate.

She was on the verge of blacking out. The pain radiated through her every pore, consuming all of her organs and ripping away at her oxygen supply. It was perfect timing that Kennedy walked through the door at that very moment, watching her dry heave and asphyxiate as she lay on the couch.

He rushed to her, dropping his coat on the floor, not even sure where he was putting his keys. “What’s wrong?” he whispered against her forehead. When she couldn’t answer he pulled her into his chest and let her soak his button down with tears.

She felt as if her lungs had been removed and her heart had ruptured and she didn’t think the feeling would be leaving anytime soon. So she gritted her teeth, held onto Kennedy as tight as she could and pulled him into a kiss she was surprised she had the strength to muster the passion for.