Chapter 0
Chapter Zero
Iceland
Three months before the time loop began
Eons was short-staffed, and the line for the cash register showed it.
Madeline had joined the ranks behind the counter to make up for the missing manpower.
Even worse, the café’s AC was broken, and the industrial fan that had been placed near the doorway was doing little to appease the sweating patrons impatiently waiting for their iced coffees.
“This isn’t worth the wait,” David complained, wiping sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “A five-dollar iced tea isn’t worth heatstroke. Actually, now that I think about it, a five-dollar iced tea isn’t worth it, period.”
“I told Ziya I’d get those brownies she likes,” Amie said, attempting to fan herself with a napkin she’d grabbed on her way in. “And we’ve already been waiting for ten minutes. We can’t give up now.”
“Sure I can. Easily. Observe.” David stepped out of line and began walking to the door, then pivoted 180 degrees as it opened.
Rejoining Amie in line, he said, “Never mind. Evil forces are preventing my escape.”
Amie peered around him to see Savannah beelining it to the pickup counter, Raina following close behind.
“Are you still mad that she stole your balloons?” Amie asked.
David huffed. “It’s not just the balloons,” he explained.
“It’s that she had the gall to pretend it was an innocent mistake when she’s a notorious package thief.
That’d be like Al Capone going, ‘Whoops. Didn’t know that guy was going to die when we shot him with machine guns. ’ We all know what you thought, Al!”
“You’re being dramatic.” They both shuffled forward with the line. “She’s not that bad.”
“Hmph.” David glanced over his shoulder, jerking a thumb in the direction of the pickup counter. “Then why is she picking a fight with the barista right now?”
Savannah’s voice was steadily rising above the ambient café noises as the two looked over.
“—put in the order hours ago. I have twenty people arriving in an hour for a book club, and you’re saying you don’t have a single chocolate croissant?”
The barista held out their hands helplessly. “We didn’t do chocolate croissants today,” they explained. “When you called earlier, I told you—”
“You told me you could make it work,” Savannah said accusingly, pointing a finger.
“I said we had a variety of other baked goods for you to choose from. And we still do. If you’d like to come look—”
“This is ridiculous!” Savannah exclaimed, looking to Raina for validation. The younger woman, who had Styrofoam trays of drinks in both hands, shrugged uncomfortably.
“We can just get something else for the book club,” she suggested.
“But I ordered chocolate croissants.”
“Jess, can you cover the register?” Madeline exchanged places with the barista as she gave Savannah a tight smile. “Savannah.”
“Madeline. Your employee’s incompetence has ruined my book club.”
“I’m sure we can still make things right. Can I interest you in—”
“Hi, what can I get you?”
Amie’s attention was pulled away as she and David arrived at the front of the line. Jess was waiting for her response, their shoulders still visibly tensed from interacting with Savannah.
“Oh, hi, um …” Amie pointed at the glass display case. “Four of those brownies, please—actually, five, let’s do five. And an unsweetened iced tea.”
She braced herself for David to protest her buying his drink, and was surprised when she received no response. Turning, she saw her neighbor heading over to the pickup counter, his shoulders set determinedly.
“Oh no.” Amie dipped into her wallet, slapping a few bills onto the counter. “You can keep the change.”
By the time she’d caught up with David, he’d already inserted himself into the interaction.
“No, you don’t deserve a discount on your order just because you couldn’t take no for an answer,” David was saying to Savannah. “As a small business owner yourself, I’m appalled you’d try to take advantage of another small business like that.”
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” Savannah spat back.
“Please, folks,” Madeline said. “I’d rather us handle this amicably—”
“I was being more than amicable before he jumped in!” Savannah exclaimed.
David scoffed. “You were yelling the moment you came in here—”
“Hey,” Amie said, gently patting his arm. “Let’s let them figure it out, okay?”
Taking her cue from Amie, Raina said, “Savannah, we need to get back.”
David begrudgingly allowed himself to be pulled away. “A little kindness goes a long way!” he called over his shoulder. Savannah flipped him off in response.
“Stay here,” Amie said once they’d exited the café. “I need to get my order.”
“But—”
“Stay.”
Amie gave Savannah a wide berth as she returned to the pickup counter. Raina gave her an apologetic smile as the bookstore owner continued to berate Madeline for the poor service.
Savannah paused as she saw the bag in Amie’s hand. “What’s that?”
Amie froze as if she’d been caught stealing. “Uh … brownies? I bought them.”
“Hm.” Savannah rolled her eyes at Madeline. “Fine. I’ll take a dozen brownies with that discount you offered.”
“Great,” Madeline said, sounding relieved. “I’ll get those for you right away.”
Amie was attempting for a second time to make a subtle exit, but Savannah faced her as the café owner hurried away.
“Tell David he’s lucky you were here to talk sense into him,” the woman said. “He thought that was me yelling? He wouldn’t want to see me actually angry.”
“I’ll tell him.” Amie grabbed the iced tea and hurried out the door.
“Did she say anything to you?” David asked, too distracted by Savannah to notice Amie putting the drink in his hand.
“Nope,” Amie lied. “Let’s go.”
Ziya was brimming with energy when she arrived at Amie’s apartment for dinner that night. She said she was excited for the brownies, but Amie knew that couldn’t be the whole reason. The brownies were good, sure, but Ziya was practically bouncing off the walls.
“Are you done?” Ziya asked, whisking away Amie’s empty plate before she could respond. She sped to the kitchen and placed their dishes in the sink before bounding back to the table.
“I’ll get the brownies,” Amie said, starting to push her chair back.
“Wait.” Ziya stood across the table from her, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “In a bit. First, I have something to tell you.”
Amie felt nervous, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.
Things had been feeling a little off between her and Ziya lately, but it wasn’t anything either of them had been able to put into words, so it had gone unaddressed.
She thought maybe Ziya was about to address it, but her girlfriend was clearly suppressing a huge smile, which didn’t seem like the correct energy to precede, “Hey, why do you think we keep sniping at each other for no clear reason?”
“Okay.” Ziya took a deep breath. “I …” She drummed on the table with her hands. “… got tickets to Iceland!”
Amie blinked. “You … okay. Cool!” Ziya didn’t usually make such a production out of announcing her trips, but Amie supposed after dating for nine months that maybe she felt these things needed more of a formal announcement.
Ziya looked equally surprised. “Wait. Really?”
“Really what?”
“You’re cool with this?”
Now Amie was really confused. “Why wouldn’t I be cool with it?”
Ziya stared at her, as if trying to determine if they were talking about the same thing. “You understand that I’m saying I got tickets for us, right? For us to go to Iceland? Together?”
Amie frowned, processing this unexpected twist. “Why?”
“Because I love spending money on exorbitant trips,” Ziya said sarcastically. “No, actually, the prices weren’t too bad. It’ll be late August, which is the start of the season, so less expensive but also less of a chance we’ll see anything, but—”
“Wait.” Amie shook her head, as if that would fix whatever was making her brain struggle to follow what Ziya was saying. “What are you talking about? What’s happening?”
“I got tickets for us to go to Iceland,” Ziya said. “Oh, to see the northern lights. Sorry, I didn’t mention that part. I got too excited.”
“Haven’t you already been to Iceland?” Amie asked.
Ziya shrugged. “Yeah. But you haven’t. And you talk about seeing the northern lights, like, all the time.”
“I don’t think I talk about it all the time.”
Wordlessly, Ziya walked over to the counter, picked up Amie’s planner, and held it up, displaying the image of the aurora borealis on the cover.
“I thought it looked pretty,” Amie said.
“Ames.” Ziya returned the planner, running back to the table and taking the chair by Amie’s. “You’ve mentioned it dozens of times.”
“Sure, I guess,” Amie said. “I just …”
She knew she was being unnecessarily argumentative. She just didn’t like when Ziya got like this, acting like the Tasmanian Devil, whirling around her, turning Amie’s eyes into black and white spirals as she struggled to follow. This was all too fast, too soon.
“… I can’t,” she finished.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” Ziya asked.
“I can’t. I have work—”
“We’re not going tomorrow, silly,” Ziya said. She was smiling, but some of the excitement had left her eyes. “I know you well enough not to do that. You can take a week off, and it’ll be right before classes start up again, so we can both—”
“No,” Amie interrupted. “I mean, I just … I don’t want to.”
Ziya’s smile faded. “You do want to, though,” she said. “You said you did.”
“I mean, it’s just one of those things you say, right?” Amie said. “It’s on my bucket list, or whatever. Like, sure, I’d like to see the northern lights someday.”
She took Ziya’s hand. “This was so sweet of you, really. I know you don’t like going to the same place twice, so I really appreciate it. I just, I can’t go.”
“But why not?” Ziya insisted.
“Because …” Amie explained, “… it’s something I want to do someday, but I just don’t have time right now.”
“So make time.”
“I will!” Amie said, laughing a bit. “Someday!”
Ziya didn’t laugh with her. “I really don’t understand you sometimes.”
“I just want to save some things for later,” Amie explained.
Now Ziya laughed. “When’s ‘later’? When? When will you start doing things you want to do? When you’re sixty?”
“Maybe!” Amie exclaimed. “I don’t know!”
Ziya pulled her hand away. “I just want more for you.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Ziya said, “that nothing good is ever going to be worth your time if you don’t think you deserve anything good. And you deserve everything good, Amie. I want you to live your life.”
Amie bristled at her last statement. “I’m just fine with my life as it is.”
“Yeah, that’s your life,” Ziya mumbled, leaning back in her chair. “Just fine.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d rather I live my life more like yours,” Amie shot back. “Packing every waking second with experiences, most of which you don’t even actually want to be doing.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Is it? So you enjoyed going to paintball with your study group two weeks ago?”
“It doesn’t matter if I enjoyed it or not,” Ziya argued. “At least I was living my life.”
“What kind of life is that if you’re not even enjoying it?” Amie exclaimed. “Jumping from job to job and major to major, never going back to places you liked because there might be something even better out there?”
“At least I’m trying to enjoy it!” Ziya pushed her chair back and stood. “You’re never gonna see the northern lights if you don’t even try to go.”
“I’m gonna go,” Amie repeated. “Someday. It just has to be the right time, and the right circumstances, with the right people—”
She stopped, wishing she could shove her words back into her mouth, or that maybe Ziya tuned her out and hadn’t even heard it.
“Wow.” Ziya’s expression was pained.
“I didn’t mean that,” Amie said, standing.
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I—” Amie rubbed her forehead. “I did, but I didn’t mean you’re not the right person. I’m just saying the time isn’t right.”
“And when will it be right?”
“I don’t know.” Amie shrugged weakly. “I think I’ll just … feel it.”
Ziya exhaled. “I just worry that one day you’re going to look back at your life and realize you never did anything you wanted to do.”
“I worry, too,” Amie said. “I worry one day you’re going to realize how much of your life you wasted doing stuff you hated because you’re too scared of missing out on things.”
“I’m happy with my life.”
“So am I.”
“So why are we fighting right now?”
“I don’t know.”
Ziya slumped back down into her chair. “Me neither.”
Despite their agreement, the tension in the room didn’t dissipate. Amie walked away from the table, resting against the counter with her arms crossed. Ziya stared at the ceiling. They sat in silence for a long, long time.
It was Ziya who finally spoke.
“Are we breaking up?” she asked in a small voice.
No, Amie thought.
“I don’t know,” Amie said. “Maybe we should.”
“Why?”
You’re right, bad idea, Amie thought.
“I don’t know,” Amie repeated.
“Should we try to figure it out?”
Yes, Amie thought.
“I don’t know,” Amie said for a third time. “I don’t … I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”
Ziya took a deep, shaky breath. “Right.”
Wrong, Amie thought.
Amie stayed silent.
They exchanged a few more words after that, but nothing of value.
Soon after, they agreed to end things. Then, about three months later, Ziya reached out, asking if Amie wanted to get together for dinner, as friends.
Amie instantly accepted, and on multiple occasions caught herself counting down the days until their first official “friend date.”
Monday couldn’t come fast enough.