“I don’t think that’s true,” David echoed.
“Oh my god, I’m surrounded by pessimists.”
The words “I prefer ‘realist’ ” died in Amie’s throat as she looked down at the ground, which had somehow remained the same terrifying distance from her as every other time she’d looked at it.
“Come on, Amie.” Ziya crossed her arms, her tone growing serious. “Be a big girl and climb the railing.”
“I can’t.” Like a tongue to cold metal, Amie felt her arms fusing with the railing. “I can’t do it.”
“I have some rope,” David offered. “It’s not very strong, but …”
“Amie,” Ziya said, “if you come down, I’ll tell you why I really came.”
Interest piqued, Amie peered over the railing. “Why?”
“Come down and I’ll tell you.”
“No, tell me first.”
“Get down here safely, and then—”
“Oh mygod!” David burst out. “Just do it at the same time! The mosquitos are eating me alive. Let’s keep this moving, please!”
Amie and Ziya looked at each other.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Amie took a deep breath, then pulled her leg up over the rail. She paused, giving Ziya a pointed look that read,Now your turn.
“Okay.” Ziya sighed. “So … after we broke up—”
“Oh, this sounds personal.” David covered his ears and turned away. “Let me know when you’re done. Or if she falls. Whichever comes first.” Despite his words, Amie saw him keeping her in his peripheral vision as she continued easing over the rail.
“After we broke up,” Ziya repeated, speaking slowly, “I just started saying yes to everything. My schedule waspacked. Like, think of the most random thing that you’ve made fun of me for doing, and I probably did something even weirder than that.”
“Like what?” Amie asked, her voice strained. She’d managed to pull her other leg over the rail, and was working herself up to face the next balcony.
“Like … I dragged my friends to this art show where all the frames were empty. And you were supposed to read the description of each piece and then stare at the empty frame and imagine what the piece would look like based on its description.”
Amie, who didn’t like to judge other people’s definitions of art, said, “That sounds kind of interesting.”
“It had a thirty-dollar admission fee.”
“Notthatinteresting.” Amie successfully transferred her right hand and flattened her back against the railing.
“Oh, and tarantula yoga.” There was a shudder in Ziya’s voice as she remembered. “That was … rough. Didn’t think white people could misappropriate yoga more than they already have, but they figured out a way.”
She paused. “The spiders sucked, too. Anyway, it got to the point where I’d start double booking stuff just because I was worried someone might cancel and I’d be left without plans.” There was a snort of self-deprecation. “My friends started getting pissed. Because of the double bookings, and the ridiculous admission prices. And the tarantulas. Come on, don’t stop now, big step.”
“I feel like you’re just saying stuff to distract me.” Amie’s vision wobbled as she pressed her back to the railing. “Are you going anywhere with this?”
“Oh mygod, okay. Basically, I was burning myself out and didn’t know how to stop. It felt like my brain was blasting sped up over-compressed hyperpop twenty-four seven. My friends literally held an intervention that was just them forcing me to do an evening of self-care at home.”
“That was nice of them.” Amie unlatched her right hand and leaned forward, grabbing onto the next railing.
“Yeah, they’re great, I love them to death. And then you and I had our incredibly drawn-out date—”
