The Gravity of Us

by Phil Stamper

  His face is pressed to mine as I get my key out and unlock the back door—a feat of which I am extremely proud—and we push through the dark house. Breathing into each other. Holding on for dear life.

  I lead him to my room and press play on my tape deck. The cassette he bought for me starts turning. I bring my lips to his again …

  And then the music starts.

  EPILOGUE

  Orpheus V Launch

  Cape Canaveral, Florida—Eight Months Later

  T-minus three minutes to launch.

  “I don’t know what to do with my hands,” I say. “What do I do with them?”

  It was an actual question, but no one’s answering me. This is a surreal experience. I’m no stranger to being on camera—it’s kind of my thing. But that’s when it was on my phone. Now, I’ve got a real camera pointed at me. And a whole production team to edit the video. Oh, and the multimillion Teen Vogue LIVE followers to please.

  I adjust the microphone attached to my face and wipe the sweat off my hands and onto my chambray shirt. It’s a mild spring morning, meaning it’s like eighty (mild for a Texan, at least), but my hands are ice right now.

  “Three, two, one,” the camera guy says, “and you’re on.”

  “I’m standing here in Cape Canaveral, Florida, and if you can’t tell by the giant rocket behind me, we are in for a spacecraft launch today. The Orpheus V launch is happening in—how long?—two minutes. Astronauts Grace Tucker, Amira Saraya, Stephanie Jonasson, Dr. Guarav Jeswani, Joseph Sedgwick, and Lloyd Osborne are in the craft, and they won’t be touching Earth’s soil again for 582 days. That’s almost two full years in space and on Mars. It’s getting loud here as we approach launch, so we’re going to switch feeds and wait for blastoff.”

  One camera stays on me, but I turn to look at the spacecraft. There are three distinct parts: the Martian module, which will transport the full crew from orbit to the surface of Mars; the thrusters that get the spaceship out of Earth’s orbit and then break away shortly after; and the command module, which houses the crew for nearly two years in space. We’re so far away, but the rumble of the engine still rocks the ground under our feet. The families, alternate astronauts, and special guests all sit in stands to my right, but a thin rope separates me from the rest. I’m in the press zone.

  And I have a badge to prove it that says Cal Lewis, Teen Vogue.

  A few weeks after the broadcast that helped save the Orpheus mission aired, an editor from Condé Nast contacted me. As it turned out, Kiara actually passed my information along to her, with a recommendation. The editor said she wanted me to help with their new live programming. Which means instead of working in fast food or retail like all my new friends at school, I can technically say I’m a real-life reporter. Cue the surrealness again.

  I scan the crowd, but I still don’t see him. The families of the Orpheus V astronauts have been in and out of interviews and briefings all day. Finally, I spot Kat, who’s leaning into her dad. Tears brim her eyes. But where is he?

  I get a text: “I know you’re a little busy, but can I send you something?”

  I look around for Leon, wondering where he’s texting from, and I’m starting to get worried. I send back a quick “okay?” and wait. Immediately, like he was just waiting for my response, he sends over an image. It’s a screenshot. When I expand the image, I see that it’s the University of Texas site, with an acceptance letter. I got my acceptance months ago, because I’m on top of my shit, but he never even told me he applied.

  He said he would make a decision and apply somewhere if and when he was ready, and I told him I would support him no matter what.

  I’m not done here. I’m staying in Texas for a lot of reasons. For one, the UT at Austin journalism school is one of the best in the country. But with Dad’s mission slated for two summers from now, I don’t want to leave. I want to be here for all the highs and lows of training—not, exactly, here … but close enough that I can get here if anything exciting is happening. I want to be close to the astronaut families and still attend parties. I’ll end up back in New York eventually, but for now, I’m okay in Texas.

  Hell, I’m happy in Texas.

  A warm hand is on my back. I jump at the touch.

  “Leon,” I say. “You … aren’t allowed here, babe.”

  “I don’t think they can kick me out. Benefit of being an Astrokid on launch day is everyone treats you like you’re super fragile.”

  Like we’ve done thousands of times in the past nine months, we kiss. We kiss with all the highs and lows of a relationship behind us, and in front of us too. I don’t know what the future brings, but I don’t care as long as I’m here. Here, with him.

  “You got into Texas?” I ask. “You didn’t even tell me you applied.”

  “Was going for the surprise factor. Or … being sneaky in case I didn’t make it in.”

  I put my palm on his shoulder. “You have better grades than me.”

  “I’m not famous.”

  He’s got a point there. Starting a new school for your senior year is a strange experience. I tried to stay in the background, finish my studies, make a few new friends, and see Leon and Kat every chance I got. But everyone kind of knew me already. If they weren’t following me on Flash, they’d heard of me thanks to the NASA-saving video. Whether people were intimidated or they thought I was too full of myself, they left me alone. And I put my head down and worked toward the only things I really cared about: becoming a real journo and spending time with Leon.

  “Should you get back to your dad?” I ask.

  “I’d like to stay here, if you don’t mind.”

  I don’t. And he’s right—none of the journalists are going to kick him out of here. Even the Teen Vogue cameraman squats low to get us both in the shot.

  The countdown starts. It trails from fifty seconds to forty to thirty, then down one by one until we get to the last ten seconds. The rumble of the engine gets louder. Deafening. But I can’t cover my ears or my eyes. I hold my breath, and Leon clutches my hand. He squeezes hard, and I squeeze back.

  “I love you,” I shout into his ear.

  The earth shakes underneath us, and Leon loses his footing. He leans into me, and I hold him steady.

  The spacecraft rises, slowly at first, steadily getting higher in the air, until it shrinks to a small but vibrant light piercing through the already bright sky. I close my eyes and force myself to remember this moment. To capture the hope, the dreams, the happiness.

  I bring Leon’s hand to my lips and give him a light kiss. And we enter a new era.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Dear Reader,

  Being a Certified Nerd™, I’ve always been fascinated by accounts of the space race and the missions that followed. I’ve read dozens of astronaut/engineer memoirs, watched every documentary I could find, and I’ve even been known to raid antique shops in my search for LIFE magazines from the era. In a way, the research I did for this story goes back more than a decade.

  While I’ve always been charmed by the science and technology behind the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo missions, one thing always called out to me in the background of these stories. The astronaut families unexpectedly became celebrities of this era, gracing the covers of magazines and giving interviews for national news outlets. This meant the astronauts’ spouses and children had to be immaculately dressed, polished, and ready to entertain, all while not knowing if their husbands or fathers would come home alive that night. In The Gravity of Us, I wanted to capture this brilliant tension while also showcasing a contemporary queer love story.

  Like so many authors, I’ve always loved reading. From the historical fiction diary series Dear America, to the creepy sci-fi Animorphs series, to—of course—the world of Harry Potter, I couldn’t get enough. My tastes were always changing, and by high school I found myself getting into cozy mysteries, reading all forty of the Agatha Christie books that were available at my school library in the span of a year. As a qu
iet, closeted queer kid growing up in a farming village in Ohio, books became my everything.

  But even in the world of fiction, the safe space I’d built for myself, I never got to see myself in these books. Sure, I could relate to Hermione getting picked on for being a bit of a know-it-all—yep, I was that kid—but I never saw a gay boy on the cover of any books. My experience wasn’t on the page, and it felt like it never would be. But now, there are so many fantastic queer books on the shelves, and I’m so lucky to be able to write the books I’d have needed most as a teen.

  Thank you for reading.

  All my best,

  Phil Stamper

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The Gravity of Us has only one name on the cover, but if I listed everyone who had an influence on this book—and my career—it’d take another hundred pages. I know every other author says that, but it’s true. There’s no way I could have done this alone! Because of all your help, some thank-yous are in order:

  To Brent Taylor, the best agent in the biz, for being a steadfast champion of my work. There’s no one out there who works harder for their clients, and I consider myself very lucky to be represented by you. And an extra special thank-you to my agent sibling Whitney Gardner, who first connected me with Brent. You’re the best cheerleader I could have had through this process.

  To Mary Kate Castellani, my brilliant editor, for having a wealth of faith in me—and Cal!—from day one. You pushed me, you caught me every time I cut corners, and helped me create a book I’m unbelievably proud to call my own. To all of Bloomsbury Children’s—Claire Stetzer, Courtney Griffin, Lily Yengle, Erica Barmash, Oona Patrick, Danielle Ceccolini, Donna Mark, Melissa Kavonic, and Cindy Loh—and to my illustrator Patrick Leger for their creativity, insight, professionalism, and enthusiasm throughout this process.

  To Chelsea Sedoti and Jenny Howe for your early critiques. You were the first people to get to know and love Cal, and your excitement for his journey built my confidence as I readied the book for the submissions process.

  To Josh Hlibichuk for being a fantastic friend through all this. You were the first person I told about my book deal, which makes sense, as you were the first person I complained to about every single step of the submissions process. And to Jo Farrow for coming up with the title of the book, and for all your support and friendship over the years—I hate to expose this secret, but you’re a softie at heart and everyone needs to know it.

  To the amazing authors who blurbed this book: Becky Albertalli, Adam Silvera, Karen M. McManus, Jeff Zentner, Shaun David Hutchinson, Caleb Roehrig, Julian Winters, Chelsea Sedoti, and Adib Khorram. Having read and loved your books so much, I was beyond honored to have your support.

  To Adam, Caleb, and Kevin—with special guests Ryan and Kosoko. By the time this book is out, the snake (me) will have already been revealed and destroyed our chat. We’re probably sworn enemies now, but know that I’ll always have a special place in my heart for the Real Housewives of YA. *twirl*

  To Beth Revis for her magical query critiques and constant guidance. To Caitie for being an advocate for my work. And to all my writerly friends who haven’t already been mentioned, including Lilah, Kristine, Greg, Rachel, Anna, Katie, Katelyn, Jess, Leann, Marley, Morgan, Tasha, Annie, Melissa, Kim, and Nic.

  To Amanda Bennett for originally (and continually) encouraging me to write novels. And to Ali, Laura, and Meghan for taking me in when I was twenty-two and had no business making adult decisions for myself. Without you all, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. Especially you, Laura. *crash*

  To Heather Croley. From fast getaways with the parking brake on, to “415 Miles for Ronnie Day,” the only reason I’m able to write such real, meaningful YA friendships is because of everything we had … and still have!

  To Ali and Reuven Szleifer for your friendship through the most stressful and the most exciting years of my writing career to date. There’s no one else I’d rather share a bottle (… or two) of celebratory rosé with. To Diana S., Kiersten M., Greg M., Caitlin P., Jasmine B., Elizabeth M., Megan L., Nicole A., Chloe F., Hannah A., and Whitney D.—your friendship and support over all this time have been priceless.

  To my husband, Jonathan, for being by my side through the many highs and lows of this process. Over the years, you’ve stepped into many roles—editor, manager, therapist, and cheerleader—and without your support and input, there’s no way I’d be the writer (or the person) I am today. I love you!

  To Andi and Bruce, Rachel and Greg, and the rest of the Stein family for all the love and support you’ve given me over the years.

  To my parents, Karen and Phil (Sr.), for always encouraging me to pursue my creative and nerdy passions. Whether it was a community theatre performance, marching band show, or piano recital, you always made sure you had a front-row seat. You’ve been cheering me on every step of the way, and I’m so happy I make you proud. To the rest of the Stamper and Lamb families for all the love you’ve given to me (and this book!) over the years. I love you all so much!

  To Ella Lamb, my granny, for everything you did to make me who I am today, from buckets of Lee’s Famous Recipe Chicken to the countless games of Euchre, Yahtzee, and Vegas Stakes we played over the years. I’ll always be your buddy.

  BLOOMSBURY YA

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  1385 Broadway, New York, NY 10018

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  First published in the United States of America in February 2020 by Bloomsbury YA

  Text copyright © 2020 by Phil Stamper

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Stamper, Phil, author.

  Title: The gravity of us / by Phil Stamper.

  Description: New York : Bloomsbury, 2020.

  Summary: When his volatile father is picked to become an astronaut for NASA’s mission to Mars, seventeen-year-old Cal, an aspiring journalist, reluctantly moves from Brooklyn to Houston, Texas, and looks for a story to report, finding an ally (and crush) in Leon, the son of another astronaut.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019019167 (print) | LCCN 2019022112 (e-book)

  ISBN 978-1-5476-0014-4 (hardcover) • ISBN 978-1-5476-0015-1 (e-book)

  Subjects: CYAC: Journalism—Fiction. | Family problems—Fiction. | Astronauts—Fiction. | United States. National Aeronautics and Space Administration—Fiction. | Love—Fiction. | Gays—Fiction. | Houston (Tex.)—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.S7316 Gr 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.S7316 (e-book) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019019167

  LC e-book record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019022112

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