I head over to the base of the zip line, and she’s still nowhere in sight. I send her another message:
Am I being punked?
A couple minutes tick by with no response. I’m about to search Maps for the nearest cafe and just tell her to meet me there when someone calls my name from behind me.
“Zach!”
I’d know that throaty, accented voice anywhere. Hearing that voice say my name might just be my favourite sound in the world, and for a few seconds, all the weeks since we said goodbye disappear, fade like they never even happened. There’s nothing but this moment, and in this moment, she’s here.
I turn around and find her standing there with a blue helmet on, a harness hanging around her hips. I soak in every detail like I haven’t seen her in years: the spray of freckles over her nose and cheeks that’s darkened from the summer sun, the wisps of pink hair escaping from under the helmet to frame her face, the white t-shirt and tiny denim shorts that could knock a guy flat on his back. She’s like the first day of summer after a winter that’s lasted way, way too long.
I meet her gaze and see the uncertainty in her eyes, the hope holding itself back as she chews on her lip, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
“DeeDee—”
“Attends!” She holds up a finger, ordering me to wait. “Watch this, okay?”
Before I have time to process the fact that she’s here, she’s bolting away from me. I stand frozen in place with my mouth hanging open, watching her tear up the stairs to the top of the zip line platform. My head swivels in what feels like slow motion when an exhilarated laugh peels out from overhead and DeeDee launches down the line.
I watch her lean back in the harness and straddle her legs in the air, laughing and shouting the whole time. I’m pretty sure she throws up some devil horns with one hand.
What I am certain of is that I will never forget the sight of DeeDee Beausoleil careening through the sky above my head.
I’ve never seen anyone look so free.
The moment seems to stretch on forever, like she slows to a stop in the middle of the line just to give me time to appreciate everything this means, but I know it can’t be longer than a few seconds before she’s touching down at the other end.
It’s too crowded for me to see the landing zone from here. As soon as she’s out of sight, my legs seem to remember how to move again, and I’m ducking and weaving my way through the crowd to get to her.
I have to get to her.
There’s a guy positioned at the entrance to the pier who tries to stop me from entering, but I barely hear his speech about the area being for zip line riders only. I hardly even look at him. He shouts something after me as I sprint by, but I don’t slow down.
“Zach!”
DeeDee’s just been unhooked from the line, and she takes off running toward me as fast as I’m running to her—helmet still on, harness clanking around her hips, shouting my name over and over again.
I know we have lots to say. I know our problems haven’t disappeared in an instant. I know this moment isn’t a magic fix-all that makes everything better, but I don’t fucking care.
I open my arms wide and catch her when she jumps into them. Her arms circle my neck, and her legs circle my waist. I stumble back a few steps and knock my head against her helmet as I steady myself. We’re both laughing and breathless and smiling so wide I’m sure my face is about to split apart, and then I’m kissing her and she’s kissing me back. She’s here, and I’m holding her. Her heart is beating against mine, and she tastes even better than I remembered. She tastes familiar, and her lips on mine feel like home.
We don’t speak much as we drop DeeDee’s helmet and harness off before fighting our way through the crowd to get to the other pier—the one we’re actually allowed to walk on. I feel like I’m buzzing with enough energy to run across the entire city, and everything I want to say is moving too fast in my brain for me to turn it into words.
She’s here. She’s here. She’s here.
That thought keeps ringing out above all the others. I know she hasn’t said anything yet, hasn’t told me things have changed, but she feels more here than she’s ever been.
She keeps hold of my hand the whole way down the pier. We glance at each other every now and then, laughing like nervous teenagers on a first date. When we reach the end, DeeDee pulls me to an empty spot on the railing. Not many people have made it out this far, and we have some space to ourselves.
“Do you know why I was so scared to go on the zip line?” she asks, the breeze off the water lifting the ends of her hair.
“You...” My voice has gone hoarse, and I have to clear my throat before continuing. “You said you didn’t want to do it by yourself.”
She nods. “I didn’t want to do anything by myself. I have been trying to figure out why, and there are probably a lot of reasons. Maybe I will never totally know what makes me like that, and maybe it will always be part of me, but...”
She trails off, frowning a little. The creases that form between her eyes are adorable.
“But?” I prompt.
She grimaces. “English is hard.”
I chuckle. “We can switch to French.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I want to say this for you. I want you to understand this.”
She squeezes my hand, and I know she means more than just the words themselves.
“I have been afraid for a very long time. I was afraid of being with you. I was afraid of not being with you. It was so confusing, and I wanted to give you so much, but I...” She drops my hand and pulls something out of her pocket, keeping it clenched tight in her first. “I told you I didn’t want to be with you just because I was running from something. I want to be with you because I’m running to you. To us.”
Us. Two letters. Just two letters, and yet they have me wanting to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless again, but I know this is important. There’s a time for dramatic kisses, and there’s a time for solemn words.
She opens her palm, and her grandmother’s ring is sitting there, silver and sapphire glinting in the sunlight.
“I’ve worn this every day since my grandmother died when I was twelve.”
She cranks her arm back like a baseball pitcher and throws the ring into the Fleuve Saint-Laurent.
I gasp as I watch it arc through the air and disappear with a plop, the ripples getting swallowed up by the waves in an instant.
“DeeDee—”
“J’men câlisse de ҫa.” Her face gets hard, fire burning inside her, and even though I’m pretty sure I get the gist of what she just said, she translates for my benefit. “Fuck that shit. I’m done. I’m done with it. I’m done with not living my life.”
She hasn’t even glanced at the water since throwing the ring.
“I applied to Cheveluxe, that haircutting school I always wanted to go to. I got in.”
A shy smile breaks through her righteous fury for a second, and I start to say something to express how astounded—how proud I am, but she cuts me off again.
“I started seeing my psychologist lady again too. I’m...I’m working really hard, Zach, and maybe it’s still gonna take time, but I want to believe I have everything I need. Just me. I have to believe that.”