Page 59 of Aviatrix

This mat feels like a metaphor for my life—flat, unforgiving, and all too familiar.

Dad vanished. Eli left. Lark cheated. Aliens are a looming threat overhead.

It’s just… a lot. For anyone. For me.

Too much for any one person to carry. Too much for me to carry.

It would be easier to just stay down. Let the heaviness pin me here. Let the silence swallow me whole.

But then Eli’s voice cuts through the static in my head, reassuring and achingly gentle.

“Quay… you can’t stay down there forever. Eventually, you’re going to have to get back up. And when you do, I’m right here.”

The words undo me.

Because he’s Eli.

And I’m Kinley.

And no matter how much I want to believe him—really, truly believe him—he will leave me again. Maybe I need to learn how to be okay with that.

I shouldn’t be surprised he remembers that day. He doesn't say it, but I see it. That day. That grief. That girl who pulled him up.

I take a deep breath, then push myself up and stand.

“You alright?” Eli asks.

I roll my shoulders. “No. Haven’t been for a long time. But that’s never kept me down.”

He grins, the corners of his green eyes crinkling like I’m the most formidable thing in the room. And the fact that I can see that—see myself reflected in his gaze—gives me the surge I need to square up.

I raise my gloves, elbows locked, feet light, and I charge.

And then I go right down again.

“Oof.”

“Again,” Eli says, already resetting.

Again, I stand. Determined. Grounded.

This time, if I fall, I’m taking him with me.

FOURTEEN

SPOOKS DON’T WEAR SWEATSHIRTS

There’s a pack of cigarettes in my back pocket as I push open the door to the Area 51 Diner. It’s dark, dank, and smells like mildew. Maybe mold.

The counter is empty. The kitchen is quiet. A few patrons linger at scattered tables, but no one’s eating.

In the corner, a dusty jukebox glows dimly. Alien memorabilia—green figures with oversized heads and beady black eyes—cover nearly every surface. Stickers. Figurines. Faded signs.

There’s something wrong about this place. Not just the smell. The silence. The way everyone looks away like they’ve already decided I’m doomed.

What is this place?

“What’s that smell?” Eli coughs beside me.