Almost Missed Connections

Part 1 — Savannah

The light was right in Savannah’s eyes when she woke up. The sun was shining so bright, so painfully bright…

“Okay, fine!” She angrily muttered to no one in particular. “I’m getting up!”

Savannah checked the time — it was noon. No wonder the sun is shining right in my face. Oh shit, did I miss class?

She quickly logged onto Canvas to check. She hadn’t missed class, but her one of her professors had recently posted a video lecture there. Right. That class is asynchronous.

Savannah was a freshman at Santa Bella University, one of the most prominent universities in all of California. Too bad that wasn’t where she was. No, instead, because of the coronavirus, she was stuck in her house with just her mother. Oh yeah, and wildfires had burned a good portion of the real campus to the ground. Isn’t 2020 a fucking fabulous time to be alive right now?

Savannah decided not to watch — it was an asynchronous class after all, she could do that whenever she wanted. No, right now she needed breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever “leisurely eating something in the very early afternoon” counted as.

Savannah walked into the kitchen in her dinosaur pajamas. Not so long ago — although if you asked Savannah it would’ve been an eon ago — those pajamas were a brand new Christmas gift. They might be worn down and stained now, but they were warm and fuzzy, they worked for now, and besides, it wasn’t like she was going to get dressed and go somewhere. Where would she go?

Savannah reached into the pantry to grab some bread. Toast had quickly become one of the staples of Savannah’s diet — it was quick to make, quick to eat, and if you just put a few berries into a bowl and some milk in a glass, you could almost count it as a full and complete breakfast!

As Savannah reached into the pantry, she heard the footsteps of her mother. “You really need to get a new pair of pajamas, honey.” She said. Savannah instantly felt her blood boil when she heard her mother say the word honey.

“Sure.” She said, flatly, not even bothering to look at her mother.

“How’s your day going, sweetie? Are classes going okay today?”

“Don’t have class until three-o-clock.” And if you’d bothered to look at the schedule you asked me to make for you, you’d know that.

It came out a bit harsher than she’d meant it to — though not by much. “Savannah, honey… don’t tell me you just woke up… did you?”

Savannah sighed.

“You really need to get on a good sleep schedule. Have a routine.”

I’m living in the middle of the global pandemic, trapped in the house with you, someone who doesn’t even know what my life looks like right now, and you want to talk about “routine”, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. How dare you?

When the toast popped out of the toaster, Savannah snatched the bread slices up and put her breakfast on a tiny plate. She noticed the burnt black edges before deciding, eh, it’ll be fine. She picked up a butter knife, then walked over to the fridge.

“I’m sorry honey, I know I’ve made you upset… I know all these Zoom meetings aren’t what you envisioned when you pictured your first year of college, and I know the world seems like a hopeless place right now. But it’s going to get better, you know that, right honey?”

“You’ve been saying that for months now.” Savannah said, gripping the butter knife tighter. “And from where I’m standing, there’s a raging worldwide pandemic, and an outpouring of police brutality, a clown in the White House, and to top it all off, the sky was fucking orange yesterday! So when, exactly, is this going to get better?”

“I… I… don’t know.”

“Exactly. So stop saying it.”

“Honey, I-”

Her mother kept trying to find a way to save the conversation, but it was no use. Savannah was done, and she knew exactly where she wanted to go — back into the safety of her room, away from her mother.

She didn’t even bother to put the butter on her toast, or put the butter knife back in the silverware drawer — as soon as she saw her chance, Savannah closed the door to her room and locked it.

Sorry mom, Savannah thought. I know you want to help… but honestly, you’re kinda making it worse.

Savannah half thought about going back out and apologizing — nah, why bother? It wasn’t like anything really mattered anymore! Who cared if she apologized or not? The fact was that it wouldn’t change their situation — they were both trapped in this cage together, as the world was falling apart right in front of them. And if Savannah had to listen to one more of her mom’s speeches full of optimistic nonsense, she was going to vomit.

Savannah felt safe in her room. It was the one space she could be her full, unapologetic self. She only wished it could be soundproof so that she could turn it into her fantasy “scream room” — a room where she could lock the door and then just scream and go crazy for a few hours before emerging from the room totally fine, like nothing had happened. Sure, it was so messy it looked like a small tornado had blown everything to hell, but this was her room. She was the boss. Nobody could tell her what to do or how to feel when she was in here.

Savannah appreciated that now more than ever. Because apparently even though the whole fucking world was falling apart, everyone outside was still telling her things were going to be okay in the end.

Fuck that shit. Savannah thought to herself, sweeping some papers off her desk and letting them fall to the floor. Were those papers important? Who knew? Who cared?

Savannah ate her breakfast at her desk, mindlessly scrolling through random apps and tabs on her phone. She opened her text messages first. She already knew what was waiting for her there — lots of apologies, lots of “let’s talk”, lots of “r u still mad at me?” texts.

Savannah was still mad at her old friends from high school — furious, actually, even though it had been almost a year since all the bad stuff happened. “Time heals all wounds”, as the old saying went, but Savannah hadn’t done much healing — how could she in this fucking mess? — and she sure as hell wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Sometimes when she had a bad day, she’d sit there staring at those texts, trying to figure out the right way to reply. She half thought about blocking all of their contacts, but she knew that wasn’t an option — every time she’d tried before, her fingers would uselessly hover the “Block Contact” button on her phone.

One day, Savannah knew she would have to talk to her former friends. But that day was a long time coming, and until then, she just let the texts sit there, not unread but not responded to either.

Savannah moved onto the news, nothing new there either: the orange clown lied about the pandemic again, another neo-Nazi decided to go on a murder spree, California was still on fire. Her mother still got angry at these things, but Savannah was numb to them. After seeing the same bad news over and over again, she’d stopped being surprised by the next “big thing”. At this point, she wouldn’t have been shocked if a city just randomly exploded — oh right, that happened in Lebanon about a month ago! Funny, the things you forget!

It wasn’t until she reached her email that she’d seen anything that broke the pattern.

It was an email from Santa Bella University, with the subject line “Santa Bella’s Pen Pal Service.” Why is the university sending me shit? Shouldn’t they be busy evacuating the few people on campus away from the fires?

Intrigued, Savannah clicked on the email and read.

“Are you finding it difficult to connect with your peers in these trying times? Would you like to get in contact with someone else attending the university? Just feeling lonely? If so, you should sign up for Santa Bella’s Pen Pal Service!”

“Santa Bella’s Pen Pal Service offers students the opportunity to connect with their peers during the COVID-19 pandemic. How does it work? Simply fill out the form linked below, type in your university-provided email address (and/or any other forms of contact you feel comfortable sharing), and we’ll match you up with a student just like you!”

Even Savannah, numb and tired as she was, couldn’t deny the aching pain she felt. The only person she’d talked to since the pandemic began was her mother, who was more or less a distant observer in her life. She didn’t know how to talk to her former friends, and she didn’t know how to find new people either.

This probably won’t change anything, but what the hell?

Savannah clicked the link. She filled out the form. And then she waited.

Part 2 — Blaine

The very first thing Blaine did when he woke up was check his phone — it was seven-o-clock, early in the morning.

Blaine wandered into the bathroom down the hall, bleary eyes and all. First thing was first — before he did anything else, he needed to take his pills for the day. He opened the medicine cabinet. Will these finally be the pills that magically fix me? he thought to himself, as he unscrewed the prescription bottle. Can anything fix me?

He went through the usual morning routine. Blaine took his time getting dressed, brushing his teeth, combing out his hair. For a moment, he thought about maybe staying in his pajamas just this once. That wouldn’t be so bad, right?

Wrong. You idiot! You know better than that! We talked about this! It’s that exact kind of lazy thinking that let the January incident happen! If you let your guard down — for even just one second! — then the beast wins! We are NOT letting the beast win! That is priority #1! Do you want a repeat of the January incident? No, I didn’t think so! So put some real pants on and shut the fuck up!

Blaine obeyed — he was NOT going to let the beast win. He couldn’t afford it. Not now. Not after last time.

When Blaine left the bathroom and walked into the living room, he was greeted by his younger sister, Julie.

Blaine rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. When Julie was still there, he asked, “Hey… what are you doing up this early? You can go back to sleep if you want, zoom school doesn’t start un-”

Julie shook her head. “Couldn’t sleep. Nightmares again.”

“Ah.” This is what, the third one this week? Poor Julie. She was only six years old, barely even old enough to understand what the coronavirus was — but not too young to be terrorized by it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You got sick, and then you died and I was all alone.”

“Hey hey hey- it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here. And as long as I’m here, you’re not gonna be alone, you got that?”

Julie nodded her head.

“You know you can always come get me whenever you have scary nightmares, right? My room’s just one door over. All you have to do is knock and I will be right there.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up.” She said. “I know you don’t sleep very well either. Do you have nightmares too?”

For a moment, he thought about lying- no, what good would that do? “Actually, yes.”

“What are yours about?”

Blaine swallowed when he asked her that. Most of his nightmares these days were about the beast — but not all of those were the same.

Some of his nightmares were about the future, a future where he’d finally lost his war against the beast. He was a monster in those, attacking everyone around him viciously and violently — even poor little Julie.

Some of his nightmares were about the past — about a cold January night when he was driving a shiny red car. The wheel was in his hands, his foot was on the gas pedal, and yet somehow the beast was in control the whole time. He’d do anything to forget what happened next.

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Julie. You’re my sister. It’s my job to take care of you — not the other way around.”

“Yeah, but I worry about you anyways.” She said. “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

No no no- we’re not telling her about the beast! She needs a stable, good brother who can tell her everything’s okay right now — not a broken mess who belongs in an insane asylum!

“Nothing’s wrong, Julie.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look okay.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She said. “Can you make me some cereal then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Blaine led Julie into the kitchen and made three cereal bowls. The first he gave to Julie, who gobbled it up in seconds. The second he put aside on the kitchen counter — he’d eat that later, whenever he could squeeze breakfast in. The third he gently took over to his mom’s desk. “Hey mom. How are you?”

Click-clack click-clack click-clack.

Blaine’s mother didn’t even look in his direction — no, her eyes were stuck on the screen and her hands were chained to the keyboard.

“I know, I know, work’s real tough right now. Here’s some breakfast.” Blaine gently put the cereal bowl down on her desk. “While I’m here… I know you’re busy but you promised… are we ever gonna sit down and have that talk about-?”

Click-clack click-clack click-clack.

“Look, I can’t keep doing this forever. I know your job is super important, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting out here day after day but… I don’t even know what I’m doing!” Blaine didn’t like the desperate, pleading tone of his voice, but he didn’t know how to stop it. “I don’t know how long I can keep taking care of Julie, it’s only a matter of time before the beast comes back and when that happens-”

Click-clack click-clack click-clack.

Something about that sound made him want to scream in that moment — that or smash the keyboard with a hammer, either one would work. It would be one thing if it was just him and his mom in that house — he was already a lost cause, so maybe it would’ve been for the best — but not with Julie. Julie deserved better.

Blaine wished more than anything for a guarantee that Julie would make it through 2020 and not be scarred for life. He wished he could protect Julie from the plague and the fires and yes, even his own beast. But mostly, he wished Julie had a better brother — someone who would be able to sit down with her and explain to her all the bad things in just the right way, someone who could make all her nightmares go away — or better yet, maybe someone who isn’t completely broken and didn’t have a beast at all.

“I really am all alone in this one, right? You’re not even really here, are you?”

Click-clack click-clack click-clack.

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought.” Blaine said, resigned. “Love you mom. Good luck.”

As Blaine ate breakfast with his sister, he briefly checked his email — and saw something from the university.

Oh no, what is this going to be?

“Are you finding it difficult to connect with your peers in these trying times? Would you like to get in contact with someone else attending the university? Just feeling lonely? If so, you should sign up for Santa Bella’s Pen Pal Service!”

“Santa Bella’s Pen Pal Service offers students the opportunity to connect with their peers during the COVID-19 pandemic. How does it work? Simply fill out the form linked below, type in your university-provided email address (and/or any other forms of contact you feel comfortable sharing), and we’ll match you up with a student just like you!”

A student like me? Bold promise. Surely nobody there is as fucked up as I am. Would anyone even want to talk to me?

It would be nice to have someone to talk to about everything. Or maybe not everything — that would just convince people he belonged in an insane asylum — but a few things, like how his mom had all but vanished, and how maybe he wasn’t the best person to be babysitting his sister. At the very least, he’d feel slightly less alone. And that was a plus.

Blaine clicked on the email. He filled out the form. And then he went back to eating his breakfast and talking to his sister.

Part 3 — The Email

“Hello Savannah and Blaine!”

“We’re so happy to introduce you to each other! You’re both receiving this email because you’ve been paired together through Santa Bella’s Pen Pal Service. Start talking, and see what happens! Who knows? Maybe you’re about to meet your new best friend!”

“We’re connecting you through primarily through your university email, but depending on what information you were comfortable sharing on the form, you may also use alternative methods of contact if you so choose.”

“We hope you will never encounter a serious problem with your pen pal, but if you do, please directly contact the Santa Bella Programs Coordinator.”

“Thank you for choosing Santa Bella’s Pen Pal Service, we hope you have a great experience!”