“I just want to save some things for later,” Amie explained.
NowZiya laughed. “When’s ‘later’?When?When will you start doing things you want to do? When you’re sixty?”
“Maybe!” Amie exclaimed. “I don’t know!”
Ziya pulled her hand away. “I just want more for you.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Itmeans,” Ziya said, “that nothing good is ever going to be worth your time if you don’t think you deserve anything good. And you deserveeverythinggood, Amie. I want you to live your life.”
Amie bristled at her last statement. “I’m just fine with my life as it is.”
“Yeah, that’s your life,” Ziya mumbled, leaning back in her chair. “Just fine.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d rather I live my life more like yours,” Amie shot back. “Packing every waking second withexperiences, most of which you don’t even actually want to be doing.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Is it? So you enjoyed going to paintball with your study group two weeks ago?”
“It doesn’t matter if I enjoyed it or not,” Ziya argued. “At least I was living my life.”
“What kind of life is that if you’re not even enjoying it?” Amie exclaimed. “Jumping from job to job and major to major, never going back to places you liked because there might be something evenbetterout there?”
“At least I’mtryingto enjoy it!” Ziya pushed her chair back and stood. “You’re never gonna see the northern lights if you don’t even try to go.”
“I’m gonna go,” Amie repeated. “Someday. It just has to be the right time, and the right circumstances, with the right people—”
She stopped, wishing she could shove her words back into her mouth, or that maybe Ziya tuned her out and hadn’t even heard it.
“Wow.” Ziya’s expression was pained.
“I didn’t mean that,” Amie said, standing.
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I—” Amie rubbed her forehead. “Idid, but I didn’t mean you’re not the right person. I’m just saying the time isn’t right.”
“And when will it be right?”
“I don’t know.” Amie shrugged weakly. “I think I’ll just … feel it.”
Ziya exhaled. “I just worry that one day you’re going to look back at your life and realize you never did anything you wanted to do.”
“I worry, too,” Amie said. “I worry one day you’re going to realize how much of your life you wasted doing stuff you hated because you’re too scared of missing out on things.”
“I’m happy with my life.”
“So am I.”
“So why are we fighting right now?”
“I don’t know.”
Ziya slumped back down into her chair. “Me neither.”
Despite their agreement, the tension in the room didn’t dissipate. Amie walked away from the table, resting against the counter with her arms crossed. Ziya stared at the ceiling. They sat in silence for a long, long time.
