Chapter 4 #3
“I know,” Ziya said, laughing with self-deprecation. “It’s just that I’m pretty sure all of my classmates are planning on going into consulting, and I’m not even sure what that is, and by this point I’m afraid to ask.”
At this moment in the conversation Amie would always laugh pleasantly, then attempt to explain consulting with what little knowledge she had about it. Today, though, she was doing things differently.
“I very much doubt that,” she said.
Ziya raised an eyebrow. “That they’re all going into consulting?”
“That you’re afraid to ask.”
That got a smile out of Ziya. “Okay, yeah, I asked someone about it. Ask me if I remember anything she said, though.”
“And you call yourself a good listener,” Amie teased. A warm feeling was beginning to grow in her chest, like a popcorn bag in a microwave.
“I am a good listener!” Ziya protested. “I listened. It’s just that, y’know, none of it really stuck.
” She covered her face with embarrassment.
“Oh my god, then later she messaged me asking me out, and—” She stopped suddenly, uncovering her face.
Eyes wide, she studied Amie’s expression.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that. ”
Amie shrugged. The popcorn bag had deflated, leaving a bunch of cold, buttery kernels rattling around in her chest. “It’s fine. I’m … I mean, we can talk about stuff like that. If you’re seeing someone—”
“I’m not,” Ziya said quickly, waving her hands as if trying to stop a car from running into her.
Shit. Amie thought she was past that.
“I turned her down,” Ziya continued. “I just thought it was just a funny story, because …” She looked pained as she trailed off. “It’s actually not that funny. Never mind.”
She fell silent, which was unfortunate for Amie, who desperately needed a distraction from the prickly feeling that had begun to climb back up her spine.
A couple feet and she would’ve been gone. Just like that.
Thankfully, the waiter chose that moment to return with their drinks and take their meal orders.
“Can I get the fettuccine alfredo?” Ziya asked.
“What?” Amie blurted out.
Ziya glanced at her. “Fettuccine alfredo?”
Amie flipped through the menu, trying to disguise her shock at Ziya requesting Amie’s time loop restaurant order. “I … wow, I didn’t even see that on the menu!”
“I never knew how much you loved fettuccine alfredo,” Ziya said as the waiter walked away. “Or is this a new thing?”
Amie groaned, covering her face with her hands. She heard Ziya chuckling, and felt a single kernel pop in her chest.
Ziya’s laughter died down as Amie uncovered her face. The prickly sensation wasn’t letting up, and it apparently showed in her face.
“I was just teasing you,” Ziya said gently. “You’re fine. I’m nervous, too.”
Now this was new information to Amie. “You’re nervous?”
“Of course.” Ziya fidgeted with her silverware. “I want this to go well. I want us to be able to be friends.” She glanced up at Amie, brows knit together. “But if you need—”
“No!” Amie said, straightening. “I’m good. Great, even. I’m just feeling a little off, but not about this. I feel good about this.”
She hoped they could move on to a new topic, but wasn’t surprised when Ziya asked, “Why are you feeling off?”
Amie debated saying something about not getting a good night’s sleep, or getting her period, or Mercury being in retrograde. But since she wasn’t sure if Mercury was in retrograde, or what it even meant for Mercury to be in retrograde, she instead said, “You almost got hit by a car.”
Ziya looked surprised, as if she’d already forgotten that had happened. “I wouldn’t say almost. Sure, it was close, but I have amazing reflexes.”
Her smile dimmed as she studied Amie’s face. “It really got to you.”
“Yeah.” Amie stared at her napkin, feeling very vulnerable.
“Hm.” Ziya folded her hands on the table. “Well, I have fifteen psychology credits, so let’s put them to good use.”
Amie smiled at that. She knew sharing the reason for her distress would be going against her mission to be cool and normal, but Ziya was looking at her in a way that made her want to say something honest.
“I, um …” She paused, trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say.
“I went through a period of time when I wasn’t really considering …
death. Or, like, really the permanence of anything at all.
But recently it’s been hitting me just how little we can actually control in general, and how most times we can’t undo things, and death is, like …
one of the biggest things we can’t undo. ”
She shifted in her seat. “So … yeah. That’s probably it. Sorry for being a bummer.”
“You’re not being a bummer,” Ziya said softly.
“No, I am,” Amie asserted. “And I think I’m gonna be like this for a while, so if you want to head out, I understand.”
Ziya frowned. “Do you really think I’d just leave because you’re feeling down?”
“No, I know you wouldn’t,” Amie said. Strangely enough, the prickly feeling had begun to lessen. “That’s why I’m telling you that it’s okay if you want to leave. I know you wanted to have a fun night, and I don’t want to waste your time—”
“Okay, can you stop?” Ziya asked, annoyance tingeing her words.
Unfortunately, Amie was on a roll. “I’m just saying, I do want us to be friends, but I’m just not sure I can be a good friend right now—not just to you, but, like, to anyone. Thankfully, David doesn’t really need much, so I’ll be okay—”
“Oh, but I’m so high maintenance?” Ziya was definitely annoyed now, Amie could tell. Somehow everything she was saying was just making things worse.
“No, no no, you’re not,” Amie said. “I mean—”
“No, it’s my turn to talk.” Ziya’s voice was sharp. “And since you seem so sure about what I’m thinking, I’ll tell you what you’re thinking.”
Amie shrunk into her seat, chastened. “Okay.”
Ziya stared at her for a long moment. Amie stared back, wondering, if Ziya looked hard enough, if she’d be able to see the effects of the time loop.
Could she tell how many days it had actually been for Amie since they’d broken up?
Was there any sign that Amie had been on this date before?
Did she see how many times Amie had tried to get this right?
“What are you thinking?” Ziya finally asked, looking defeated.
Amie’s shoulders slumped.
At the same time, they both became aware of the rising volume of voices nearby, and looked over to identify the source of the noise.
A group of people were sitting around a table, their attention on three members of their party who were on their feet, arguing with each other.
“—because you’re a fucking liar!”
“Are you really gonna do this right now? Really?”
“Don’t talk to me like that—”
The other occupants of the table were calling for their companions to settle down as a host rushed over to address the situation.
The situation escalated to new heights as someone got pushed, a chair toppled, a waiter tripped, and a tray of dishes and glasses went crashing to the ground.
The volume inside the restaurant skyrocketed as people stood to get a better look at the commotion.
Amie found herself glancing behind her, shoulders tightening like they were anticipating a tray of dishes to drop on her head any second.
Oh my god, breathe, she thought as her breaths came in fast and shallow.
“Dinner and a show,” Ziya deadpanned, turning back around.
Her expression dropped as she saw Amie gripping the table, shoulders hunched. “Are you okay?”
Run.
She couldn’t. Who knew what could happen between there and the door?
Stay.
She couldn’t. Who knew what could happen if she remained in that spot?
“Can I touch you?”
Ziya’s voice was surprisingly close to her ear. That’s when Amie realized she had squeezed her eyes shut.
She nodded.
“Come on.”
An arm wrapped around Amie’s shoulders. The familiar sound of Ziya’s bangles clinked near her ear as she let herself get pulled from the chair and led away from their table.
Amie’s eyes snapped open as she felt fresh air hit her face. Ziya had led her all the way across the restaurant and outside.
“Sit here,” Ziya directed, herding her over to a bench that sat along the building.
Amie obeyed, noticing both of their purses swinging from Ziya’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. No longer feeling like something was about to crash down onto her head, she began taking deeper, slower breaths.
“Enough of that.” Ziya sat down next to her. “Water?”
She was holding a glass of water from their table. Amie accepted the glass and took a small sip.
“I’ve never seen you have a panic attack before,” Ziya said, taking the water back.
Amie rested her forearms on her thighs. “Me neither.”
She heard a rustle. Then:
“Gum?”
A stick of gum appeared in Amie’s line of vision. She took it.
“Thanks.”
“It’s cinnamon.”
“I know.” Amie unwrapped the gum. Next to her, Ziya did the same.
Amie chewed until she felt her heart rate begin to slow.
“What do we do now?” she finally asked, bracing herself as she left the safety of the comfortable silence that had settled between them. She had no idea what came next, and that terrified her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ziya look over. “What do you want to do?”
Call it off, came the unwanted thought. This was too much, too soon. She doesn’t need to deal with this.
Amie opened her mouth to respond.
“Someone’s calling you.” Ziya was looking down into Amie’s purse, taking it off her shoulder to pass it over.
Amie accepted the bag and reached inside, pulling out her phone.
“It’s David,” she said. “He never calls me. He almost exclusively uses speech-to-text.”
Accepting the call, she angled slightly away as she lowered the phone’s volume.
She didn’t want Ziya overhearing if David asked her how the date was going.
How could Amie even respond to that? Seven hundred and sixty-ish days of waiting for a second date with her ex-girlfriend, and she’d blown it in under thirty minutes.
“Hello?”
“Hello!” David replied, his voice sounding cheerfully strained. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner. Just thought someone should know that I’m about to be arrested.”