A Tragic Kind of Wonderful(66)

“I know! I’ll show you!”

“No!” David takes a quick step forward.

“I can do it!”

“Not after riding your bike all night! Look at you … you’re a mess! You couldn’t jump over a crack in the sidewalk. Let’s go home and later we can—”

“No! You’ll make it so I can’t come back!”

“Mel … you won’t want to come back. Not when you’re thinking straight again.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Everything’s blurring and I wipe my eyes. “When I make it, you’ll see I’m not going to end up like him, and then everyone can stop worrying.”

“Look at me,” David says, but I can’t. “If you do this, even if you don’t fall—and you definitely will—it’ll make people think you are going to end up like Nolan. What’ll make you the same is trying. The only way to prove you’re different is to not try.”

“You’re wrong,” I say. But I’m getting confused … he’s trying to confuse me …

I wipe my eyes again and see the Magic Wand in its mound of gravel. I pick it up. Nolan had told me to wave it, but I didn’t. Maybe I should have.

“Come on, Mel. Let’s go somewhere and talk about this.”

I know what that means. They’ll seal or lock the fire escape, weld the doors shut, who knows, but they won’t let me back up here again. It’s now or never.

I touch the far wall with my heel, brace my foot against it, lean down— “Mel, wait! I’ll do it!”

David drops to one knee and starts tightening his shoelaces.

This startles me for some reason.

“You just want proof that it’s possible?” he says. “So I’ll prove it and we can go.”

I peer at him. Is this a trick?

“It doesn’t have to be you,” he says. “Right?”

I’m really confused. I don’t know if he’s right or not.

He switches to the laces of his other shoe and says, “You’re so tired you can’t even stand straight without wobbling. I know I can make it if I’m careful and don’t slip, but I won’t lie; this sort of stunt often ends badly on YouTube. I just don’t see any other way to stop you.”

I’m losing track of the details but one thing is clear: He’s really going to do this— My heart stops.

I see it now. I understand.

Maybe this is how it was with Nolan. I don’t want to die, and I know there’s a chance I could fall, but somehow this doesn’t frighten me …

Yet watching David now … it changes everything. Seeing him about to do this instead of me … for me … I’m suddenly terrified.

He isn’t trying to patronize me. Or handle me. Or pat me on the head and go on with his business. He’s really trying to help. Even if it kills him.

“David, don’t!”

He looks up. “Why?”

“It’s … it’s too dangerous! It’s not worth it. It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go, okay?”

“No,” he says and returns to his laces. “I can’t tell if you really believe that. Maybe you’re only saying it to keep me from jumping—”

He stops and stares at me. Then he rocks back and sits in the gravel.

“This is how you feel,” he says. “Isn’t it?”

David watches me. Like he wants an answer. But I don’t know what he means.

“You know,” he says, “when people try to talk you out of doing something? And you don’t know whether or not they’re lying, just saying anything to get you to stop?”

I nod.

He looks down at his shoes for a moment, then back at me. “I will never do it to you again, Mel. I swear.”

I believe him.

He says, “Promise you’ll never do it to me?”

I nod again.

“All right. So if we leave, are you going to want to come back alone later and try this?”

I open my mouth to reply, but what’s the truth? I want to say no, but I’m not sure that’s— “Thanks for not lying,” he says grimly. He stands. “I’m coming over.”

“No, don’t!”

He bends down and plants a foot against the short wall.

“I … I …” I want so badly to tell him I’ll never come back, anything to stop him from jumping, even if it’s a lie … This must be how he feels, and it’s horrible.

And now I’m reliving my worst memory, standing helpless on this roof, about to watch someone do something ridiculously dangerous, utterly pointless, and probably fatal. And like last time, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Yet I don’t feel helpless despair this time. I feel … I’m not sure what …

David crouches and positions his hands on the gravel like a sprinter. Does he do track and field at his school? I don’t even know.

“Don’t do it!” I shout. “I don’t want you to!”

He ignores me and settles himself. Nolan ignored me, too. And not just that once, but also other times. It was infuriating.

David launches himself and sprints toward me.