Ziya: How’s tonight?
The ticking from the clock that hung over her stove seemed to grow very loud, as if someone had cranked up its volume. Amie looked away from the text and down at her planner.
Tonight … tonight …
Amie had expected Ziya to suggest a date a week away, maybe more. Her ex-girlfriend liked to pack her schedule as much as humanly possible. It wasn’t like her to have a free evening the day of. Granted, when they were dating, many of those evenings had been reserved for Amie, but Amie had assumed that a byproduct of being broken up was that Ziya would find other activities to occupy that time.
Amiewasfree that night. Technically. But was she ready to go out again so soon? Despite successfully completing her quest to acquire her first blueberry bagel in over two years, the journey to and from the coffee shop had been more treacherous than she’d expected.
“Reacclimation,” she said out loud, looking down at the goals box in her planner. Amie picked up her pen to write down theword. It took her about thirty seconds, as the pen was running out of ink and she didn’t want to take the time to track down another one.
With some difficulty (and a lot of scribbling in the margins to get the ink going), the word “Reacclimation” filled the goals box. It was time to get back to normal.
But as she closed the planner, her hand drifted over the cover again. An ominous feeling swept over Amie as she reached for the phone to confirm with Ziya. She paused, hand hovering over the device.
I need a second opinion, she thought.
Chapter OneThird First Friend Date
Day 2 I.L.
Determined to keep pretending that Everything Was Normal And Not Exactly The Same As The Previous Two Days, Amie once again got ready for her friend date and took the bus to the restaurant. The pretending was made difficult as she watched the same people board the bus, heard the same podcast blasted by a guy who refused to wear headphones, and smelled the same horrible blend of cheap cologne of the teenagers walking past as she arrived at her destination at 6:55. Same as the day before, and the day before that, and, unbeknownst to her, many days after as well.
Ziya Mathur arrived at 7:08, right on schedule (technically eight minutes late, but right on schedule for her established timeline).
“Hiii,” Ziya sang, shifting gears into a skip as she closed the distance between them.
“Hi,” Amie echoed as Ziya hopped to a stop in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach from seeing her ex-girlfriend again did little to distract from the larger issue at hand. By the time she’d gotten to this moment the day before, she’d managed to convinceherself that she was dealing with a temporary glitch, and had a very pleasant second first friend date with Ziya.
It was harder to stick with the glitch theory on the third go-around.
“I love that outfit,” Ziya commented, as Amie knew she would. “Is that a new skirt?”
Amie was wearing a brown sleeveless turtleneck and a dark plaid skirt. When she’d first dressed for this date two days before, she’d told herself that a T-shirt and jeans, even her nicest pair, were fine to wear. It was just Ziya, after all.
She’d forgotten how it felt to see an ex for the first time since a breakup. The jeans were an instant regret. Through the haze of confusion that had surrounded Amie on her first day in the time loop, she’d somehow managed to take the opportunity to choose a different outfit. Part of her even believed that the universe had given her a second chance solely for this reason. After once again waking up on the 17ththe following day, she discovered that she might have overestimated the level of investment the universe had in her choice of wardrobe.
“Thanks,” Amie replied, much more prepared to take the compliment this time than when she’d first received it two days before (Ziya had still complimented her then, despite the jeans). “Nah, this is old. Don’t wear it much. Nice dress.”
“Thank you!” Ziya did a spin, showing off her outfit. She was wearing a long-sleeved orange dress with a high neck and a cutout in the front. A matching orange headband stood out against her black hair, which fell down her back in thick waves as she completed her spin.
“No pockets.” Amie’s comment was only a few decibels above a murmur.
Ziya gave her a delighted smile at their seemingly shared thought. “I was about to say! It doesn’t have pockets, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”
Amie nodded, realizing she’d accidentally stepped on Ziya’s line. It was like she’d watched the same movie two days in a row, and could now recite memorable lines along with the characters.
“Earth to Amie.”
Amie looked up with a start, having zoned out. A pair of gold bangles clinked cheerfully on Ziya’s wrist as she waved a hand in front of Amie’s face. The bracelets had been recently sent to her from India by an aunt—though, as far as Ziya knew, she hadn’t told Amie that yet.
At least Amie’s distractedness had prompted an unfamiliar line from Ziya. The change in dialogue was comforting, and for a moment she was able to pretend that everything was normal. (As normal as one can be having dinner with their ex three months after the breakup.)
Having Amie’s attention again, Ziya smiled, said, “Let’s do this,” just as she had the other two nights, and led them into the restaurant.
Ziya chatted with the host as they waited to be seated, giving Amie time to collect her thoughts. She promptly squandered this opportunity, allowing her thoughts to continue rattling around in her brain as she watched her ex-girlfriend talk.
Everything about Ziya made a person feel special when she looked at them. Amie knew she wasn’t the only one who felt this way; she could see it in everyone Ziya spoke with. The same mix of mild surprise and delight on their faces as Ziya gave them her attention. Amie supposed it was because Ziya had the energy of someone who lived a very interesting and exciting life, and if she was giving her attention to someone, it could only be assumed that she saw them as interesting and exciting.
