“Good guess, but no. That’s not it.”
We continue for another few feet before I recognize the booth we’re heading to. A chill runs up my spine.
“Come on!” Roxanne turns around to face me where I’ve stopped walking and motions for me to follow her.
“Wait. Roxy, are we going on the zip line?”
She shuffles her feet. “Maaaaybe.”
I don’t move.
“What is it? Are you scared of heights?”
“Non, I just...”
I trail off and lift my head to watch a guy shoot down the zip line over our heads, kicking his feet and swearing at the top of his lungs. I stand there watching as he reaches the bottom and the next person comes flying along. It’s a girl this time, and she’s laughing.
I shudder, my heart getting faster and faster as the blood thumps in my ears.
I don’t mind elevators or tall buildings. I’ve climbed a lot of fire escapes while drunk before. I even spent one summer hooking up with this guy who was a skydiving instructor, and he took me out to the airfield to go with him one weekend—but I was strapped to his body the whole time.
There’s no one to strap onto up on that zip line. It’s not like a fire escape ladder where there’s always someone climbing up behind me or waiting to give me their hand at the top. It only takes a few seconds to go down that line, but it’s a few seconds all on your own.
Just the idea of it makes my chest feels like it’s too small for my lungs. It’s the same breathlessness I felt when my dad drove away, or when my sister’s dad drove away with her. It’s how I felt during all those years our house was way too quiet. It’s how I felt sitting in my apartment waiting all night for Clém to come home while the hours ticked by on that stupid, stupid clock. It’s how I felt when I fell to my knees in the alley after ending things with Zach: like I couldn’t get enough air in, like I needed someone else to help me breathe.
Helpless.
I am so fucking sick of being helpless.
I lift my shaking hand to shade my eyes from the sun and watch a third person launch off the edge of the platform. She can’t be any older than thirteen. She leans back in the harness and does some kind of gymnastics straddle while she shouts, “Woo hoo!” A bunch of girls her age stand by the edge of the boardwalk with their phones pointed at her, cheering her on.
She looks fearless.
“Let’s do it.”
I grab Roxanne’s hand and take off running with her tripping along behind me before I can change my mind.
I bounce on my heels as Roxanne shows the guy at the booth the tickets on her phone. She gives me a few concerned looks, but I just shake my head as I pull sharp, short breaths in through my nose. If I hesitate, I’ll lose my nerve. I need to do this now. We have to sign some kind of waiver thing and listen to an explanation before they hand us our helmets and harnesses. The adrenaline is rushing through me, pumping in my ears so loud I don’t hear any of the safety guy’s speech.
When they finally say it’s time to climb to the top, I take off up the stairs that lead to the starting point like I’m trying to win an Olympic medal. There’s a guy with a man-bun waiting up there. He’s pretty hot, actually, but I’m too terrified to even give him a flirty smile. My stomach is churning, and my heart is beating so damn loud it makes it hard to hear what he’s saying.
“You ready?” he asks.
I close my eyes and nod. I hear him chuckling as he checks my harness and attaches me to the line.
“You remember what they told you at the bottom?” he asks.
I shake my head. I still have my eyes closed.
He chuckles again. “It slows down and stops on its own when you get to the bottom, so all you’ve got to do is sit back and enjoy.”
“Enjoy?” I laugh like a crazy person for a few seconds and then tap one trembling foot against the platform. “How do I get off this thing?”
“You jump.”
“I jump? Can’t you just push me?” I peek at him with one eye and see he’s shaking his head.
“Nope. It’s all you.”
All me.
I let out one shaky breath, and then another, and another. I think man-bun guy is starting to get annoyed with me, but my knees are shaking so bad I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to jump. I don’t know if I could even turn around and walk back down. I’d probably fall over.
“All me,” I say under my breath. “It’s all me.”
I shuffle a little closer to the edge. I can feel the line bouncing and swaying now that I’m attached to it. I look up at the cable. It’s not very thick. It could probably be a lot thicker.
All me.
I close my eyes again. I stand straighter.
All me.
Then I jump.
Someone screams very loudly, and it takes me half a second to realize it’s me. The wind whips through my clothes and rushes along my skin. I open my eyes just enough to see the toes of my sneakers hanging high, high above the people walking up and down the boardwalk below.
I scream again, but I force myself to keep my eyes open. I look up from my feet and out at the water. I can see the bay between two piers where people are renting pedal boats. The giant Ferris wheel is slowly spinning above it all. I’m close enough that I can make out the shapes of heads and shoulders inside the tinted pods.
I look farther, swivelling my head to see the bridges stretching over the Fleuve Saint-Laurent in the distance and the little doll-sized cars zooming across them. I know I must be going very fast, but everything seems to slow down for a few seconds.
In this moment, the city is so distant from me. The whole world is tiny and far away. I’m not a part of it, and it’s not a part of me. I’m alone with the wind and the breath in my lungs.
I’m alone.
The ground is zooming up closer now, and I can feel the pulley thing I’m hooked into starting to slow me down, just like the guy said it would.
I’m alone.
My feet are stretched out to land at the end of the pier.
I’m alone.
And I’m okay.
Nothing bad happened. For five seconds of my life, I was completely cut off from everyone else on Earth, and I was fine. Maybe it wasn’t long enough to matter, and maybe I’m being stupid and making a big deal out of something that should have just been a fun zip line adventure, but my legs still shake when I land, and my chest still feels twisted and tight—not from fear, but from something bigger than fear. Something that makes people stand up to fear. Something that sends fear running far, far away.
“Are you, uh, okay?”
I realize I’ve been staring at the zip line crew guy with a huge, dopey smile on my face. He has a man-bun too. It seems like it might be part of their uniform.
“I am merveilleux!” I shout. I try to jump down off the landing platform and come zinging right back.
He hasn’t unclipped my harness yet.
“Glad to hear it.” He laughs to himself as he frees me, and then steps back, scratching the back of his neck like he’s suddenly nervous. “Hey, uh, I know this is kind of random and weird, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but you’re gorgeous, and—”
“Alone!” I shout, throwing my hands up and doing a mini dance routine. “I am riding solo, my friend!”