I buy our tickets, and we join the short line behind a group of college kids taking turns chugging a transparent liquid out of a Gatorade bottle.
“It’s probably water,” Lily whispers, grinning.
“I admire your optimism,” I reply.
When our turn comes, the ride attendant looks at us like he hates his life and we’re part of the problem. He waves us through, and we climb into a gondola, settling next to each other on the same bench. He secures the gate, and with a gentle lurch, we begin our ascent.
The gondola rocks as we rise. Lily keeps to her side, hands folded in her lap.
As we climb higher, the view expands dramatically. The coastline stretches north and south while the city sprawls inland with mountains rising in the distance. It’s breathtaking. Below us, people become smaller, their movements those of ants following invisible trails.
Lily is so quiet I’m pretty sure she’s going to break up with me before we even start dating.
We’re halfway through the ride, stopped near the top while other passengers board below, when she finally talks.
“So what’s the real reason you moved to California?” she asks, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “Besides the death wish.”
I can’t tell if she’s joking or being serious.
“You mean besides myhero complex?” I correct with a smile, preferring to keep things light. “Why can’t that be enough?”
The wheel creaks as it moves again, the gondola swaying. “It’s never enough. Were you fleeing from something?”
“Not really.”
The look she gives me says she’s not buying the uncomplicated answer.
Lily pins me down with a stare. “I had a complete breakdown in front of you this morning,” she reminds me, shoving my shoulder lightly. “You can share your deepest, darkest secrets.”
The wheel stops again as we reach the summit, and I fess up. “Okay, fine. I was escaping the loneliness. My parents moved to Florida when they retired five years ago. My grandma, who basically raised me, passed two years later. No one that mattered was left in Delaware City. It didn’t feel like home anymore.”
A seagull glides past our gondola, riding the ocean breeze. “Sure, I knew the people in town, but none weremypeople anymore. And nothing can make you lonelier than feeling alone in a crowd.” I shrug, downplaying the emotion behind the words. “So, only three rejections and one accepted transfer request later, here I am.”
Lily quirks her lips, studying me like she’s reading between my lines. “I sense you’re leaving something out of that story.” She narrows her eyes. “Or should I say someone? No significant exes you share a tumultuous past with back home?”
“Ah.” Should’ve known the surface-level answer wouldn’t be enough. “You want all the dirt?”
She gives me a big, theatrical “Yes!”
I laugh and run a hand through my hair, feeling the wind tousle it back out of place. “It’s nothing dramatic. I’ve only ever had one serious relationship. Fell in love at sixteen, stayed together through our twenties.”
Our gondola begins moving again, descending as I continue. “Harper and I thought getting married was the next logical step. I proposed, she said yes. But when my grandmother passed, I realized I was doing it more to send Grandma off knowing I was settled.”
Lily’s watching me, all traces of teasing gone.
“As we got deeper into planning the wedding, we both admitted to each other and to ourselves that getting married wasn’t what we wanted.” I look down at my hands, remembering those tough conversations. Noting how the memory has become less painful than it once was. “We parted ways amicably. We still talk. No big scandal, just two people who grew up together and eventually grew apart.”
“You’re still friends?” Lily asks, tone neutral.
“Mmm… not the share-every-detail-of-our-lives kind. We wish each other happy birthday, send the odd meme sometimes.” I turn to her. Is she jealous of my ex? “Anyway… After the breakup, everyone in my town felt part of a past where I no longer belonged…”
“And you wanted a fresh start,” Lily says, finishing my thought.
I nod, impressed by how easily she gets me. “Exactly.”
“And have you found it?” she whispers, voice so low it’s nearly lost in the wind.
I want to say yes, that she feels like my people already. But I can’t. She’s made that clear. “It’s been only two weeks. The jury’s still out.”
