The Gravity of Us Read Online Free PDF Page A

one full year of building my following and reputation as a reporter, BuzzFeed News offered me a summer internship to help with video content for their new local New York City feature.
    When I walked into the headquarters, with its yellow walls and couches everywhere, I knew I was somewhere special. With the laughing twentysomethings and their thick-rimmed glasses, phones always up on top of laptops in open meeting spaces. It was a dream. It was supposed to start next week. It was …
    “Not going to happen.” I realize it as I say it. Everything I’ve worked for. A foot in the door with a career in media journalism. Stolen away by the astronauts. “Fuck, this sucks. What do I even tell them?”
    “Tell them you’ll cover the Mars missions. They post a new article about the families like every day.”
    “On the entertainment page. I was supposed to cover city news.” I gesture to the window. “And StarWatch has a gag order on any other video, or really anything, coming out of Clear Lake, Texas. Once Dad signs that contract, I’ll be a part of the show. I won’t even be able to do my FlashFame vids anymore.”
    “That’s (a) not fair, and (b) wait, I just realized you’re going to be on Shooting Stars . Oh my god, Josh Farrow is going to be saying your name, aloud, on TV.”
    I groan. “I can’t even process that you still watch that show. It’s all perfect families, fancy parties, and petty gossip nowadays. We’ll never be able to fit in with those people.”
    The tension balls up in my chest.
    “First of all, it is a fantastic television program.” She pronounces each word with extra force. “Okay, yeah, it’s a little petty. But hey, they’re entertaining at least. Don’t act like you aren’t a little starry-eyed—pun intended. You were just as invested as everyone else until you found out your dad got an interview.”
    “Sure, I covered all the new astronauts and reported on the months-long debate about financing Orpheus before the Senate finally passed that funding bill. They were news stories that mattered.”
    “Well, maybe I think watching astronauts get drunk off champagne before falling face-first into a bush matters too,” she jokes.
    At least, I hope that was a joke.
    Either way, I roll my eyes. “I even did that in-depth report on all the drama NASA caused by buying out every house on the market in Clear Lake, and it got picked up by the Washington Post .”
    She nods, sagely, as I ramble through my frustration.
    Clear Lake City is conveniently close to NASA’s Johnson Space Center. When the Mercury, Gemini, and Apolloastronauts—and, of course, all the related teams—relocated here from their respective towns, Clear Lake and a few surrounding areas became known for being the home of astronauts. American heroes who made their front lawns the Hollywood of the South.
    There was more than celebrity appeal then, however, and the same is true now.
    “StarWatch thinks people don’t care about the science of it,” I say. “Plus, the exploration, what it could mean for our planet, anything. It’s so scripted and boring. You know a producer is behind the scenes, stoking the fire or asking pointed questions.”
    She sighs. “We’re getting off track. Forget them—let’s get back to you. At least ask BuzzFeed if you could do the internship from Texas? You might not lose this opportunity if you try. I’m sure they can be flexible. It’s not the Times .”
    “I will,” I say. “It’ll give me something to do on the car ride to Texas.”
    She laughs and punches me in the shoulder. “NASA won’t pay for a jet? Come on!”
    “You know Dad wouldn’t go for that. He’s spent the past decade moving the car for street cleanings twice a week, even though we use it a handful of times a year. He’s not going to get rid of it. He’s going to make us all load up the car and go. Forever.”
    She pulls me into a hug, and I reach around her body and hold her close.
    “What am I going to