Page 43 of Free Fall

“I figure there’s no way around the fact that life is short—”

“And yet you’re aiming to shorten it even more?”

“Life’s short, even taking my goals out of the equation.” Dan sees my eye roll coming and puts his hand out. “No, wait, I know what those other climbers said got under your skin. They filled your head with all kinds of visions, right?”

“It didn’t take much,” I confess. “My mom died a little over a year and a half ago, and I don’t have room for more death in my life right now.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Right, and neither can you. You could walk out that door right now and get smashed by a runaway semi-truck. Boom—you never fucked me again, and how sad is that?”

“I thought sex was off the table for this discussion.”

“Fine, you never smiled at me like this”—he shows me the phone with my stupidly happy face on it once more—“and what an eternal fucking loss for me, right?”

“But the chances are a lot less—”

“Chances are all we’ve got.”

Something about that sentence, issued from his handsome mouth with such finality, hits me right in the chest. It’s like a boot kick that knocks my breath away. The light from the window shimmers around him, highlighting his brown, curly hair, and the fuzz on his jawline. I’m mesmerized by his big eyes. They’re almost hypnotic as he gazes at me, certainty roaring out of them like a physical thing that also shakes me deeply.

“Kid!” Pete yells from behind the counter. “Time’s almost up. Got that personal life cleaned up yet?”

He’d said I had twenty-five minutes, and it’s definitely been less than that, but a glance out the window at the bus of tourists that has just rolled up tells me my time with Dan today is over.

“Why do you want to see me again?” I ask. “The real reason.”

“I feel like I need to see this smile.” He taps the phone again. “I feel like I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, no matter how short or long that is, if I don’t.”

I smile at him. “There. Now you’ve had it.”

“Your eyes aren’t glowing.”

I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “You’re a real dick, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

I ponder that. Dan seems resigned to being considered an asshole. Interesting, and kind of sad.

“Kid!” Pete calls again.

Scooting back from the table, I rise. “I have to get back to work. I can’t give you an answer right now. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Promise?”

He sounds so young then, and he looks it too. Far too young to die.

“I promise,” I say, putting my hair back up in the ponytail for work.

He watches me keenly, and then says, “I love your hair, Doc.”

“Thanks.” I shift awkwardly, not sure how to break free from him. I want to say something more, something normal or funny or soothing. I don’t even know if I want to soothe him or myself. Instead, I smile again. “Later, Dan.”

“Later,” he agrees.

By the time I’ve helped Pete with the influx of tourists, Dan has left the building. Again, I don’t know how I feel about that. Relieved, I guess.