Chapter 4: Distance

The time was fifteen minutes after eight, the place was the Cliffside Library, and the sport was people watching.

Miranda Hensley had been studying abnormal psychology with her friend Adrian Skolnikov until about seven, when they both decided they were finished for the evening. They brought their chairs closer together, loaded a nifty auto-movement program on their surface space to make it seem like they were still doing work, and began to figure out the secret lives of the students around them.

“The small boy in the corner with the Space Marines shirt,” Miranda said, pointing the thin youth out to Adiran.

Adrian leaned back thoughtfully. “Given that he still has that ridiculous artifact from his childhood, that suggests to me that he's either not very bright or that he doesn't have any money to get a new shirt with. Possibly both. Probably both.”

“Despite his terrible high school social life and never really talking to a girl in any of those years, his parents support him in everything that he does, never daring to tell him he's outgrown anything. He'll forever be their special little boy,” Miranda added.

“Which is why he's studying south-east Chinese transsexual literature, all on his parent's dime.”

Miranda laughed. “Possibly an... ah, fascination there? Brought on by an underdeveloped romantic life?”

“Certainly, certainly.” Adrian smiled.

“Come to think of it, I don't think that's actually a major we offer here. So. How can we help this poor kid?” Miranda asked. She enjoyed these observations, but she was always careful to try to end in a positive manner.

“This isn't psychological profiling practice,” said Adrian. “You don't have to try to justify this to yourself in some weird way. We're just having fun.”

Miranda tried not to think about it in that way, because, obviously, there wasn't any need for justification. She was doing this as a public service, really, and, as Adrian said, it was good practice for the future. “Seriously,” she said, “how would you help him overcome his problems?”

Adrian groaned. “I wouldn't. His life is probably perfectly happy. His likely awkward fascination with certain types of women would make him a good wing-man, and this means he'll never be short of male friends. His family loves him well enough, and would never dare to point out his faults, so that's a good situation. Sure, he's not going to be getting marks in self-improvement anytime soon, but why take the medium-sized fish out of the tiny pond? He's fine where he is, and he'd just be unhappy if you tried to help him any further.”

That didn't sound quite right. “Ok, what about her?” Miranda pointed to a tall brunette sitting a couple tables in front of them.

“You start this time,” Adrian said.

“Well, height is always a problem for women, as it shortens the pool of available guys. It's always strange to hook up with a guy who is shorter than you are.”

“You jump to relationships instantly,” Adrian said. “Every time.”

Miranda objected. “Excuse me, I wasn't the person thinking of weird Chinese literature.”

Adrian sat in thought for a second. “Turn around.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it. I want to try something.”

Miranda rotated in her chair until she faced the window. The glass held no reflection of the students studying behind her, and far below the Neptune River churned and sped down the gorge. The Archmatic University was built on the edge of the Great Plains, and the Cliffside Library was built on the edge of the University grounds. The mountains to the West brought the water down to the Great Plains, and it lazily wandered until it reached the end of the plateau, and rushed through the canyon to the level ground which stretched all the way to Nebraska and the Dakotas. The roar of the water was not audible through the chattering of the students, but if one was to leave the building they could go onto the walkway that wound around the Library, and hear the cascades below.

Adrian was talking. “Fairytale Logic workbook, jeans, athletic shirt.”

“Boy or girl?” Miranda asked.

“That's cheating.” Miranda could hear Adrian's smile in his voice.

“Well... let's assume it's a girl, then, since we just did a guy.”

“We just did a girl.”

“We didn't finish, so I'm going to assume she's a girl,” Miranda said.

“Fair enough,” said Adrian.

“How is she sitting?”

“This person is sitting cross-legged, at the moment.”

Darn, she was hoping that Adrian would give away the gender. “Does the athletic shirt fit well?” Miranda asked.

“Yes, I would say so.”

“This is a girl who is naturally fit,” Miranda said. “She's probably a freshmen, as the freedom of eating whatever food you want hasn't hit her yet.” Her phone was vibrating, and she glanced down to see 'Boy From Anti-Modernist Literature.' She ignored it. “She read a lot in high school, which is why she's in such a silly class. She's finding that ruthlessly deconstructing fantasy stories isn't helping her appreciation of them, and that's making her depressed.”

Adrian finished for her. “So she's going to hit the Freshman Fifteen hard, probably to the tune of thirty pounds, no longer have her books to bring her comfort, and probably throw herself off the Observation Walkway come Christmas.”

Miranda turned around. Adrian was grinning. “That's not something to laugh about.”

“It's not true, either.” Adrian pointed across the room. A muscular man sat cross-legged in a beanbag chair, looking uncomfortable and confused as he struggled through a bright green workbook titled, 'Conundrums in Fairytale Logic.'

“He's obviously just in that for the girls,” said Miranda.

“And he'll throw himself off of the Ob Walk when he realizes every girl in that class is far too intelligent for him.”

“Stop it! And how did he even get in here anyway? This school isn't really his type.”

They speculated for a while about the boy's family life; how his nerdy parents forced him to go Archmatic U, and how he was the black sheep in the bunch and nobody appreciated him at all. Miranda had no remedy for the kid except transferring to Wyoming State, where he could probably do well in wrestling or something. Nine thirty rolled around, and they decided to wrap up their conversation and leave the Library.

“Where are you going after this?” Miranda asked.

“I think I'll hit the Brewery,” said Adrian. “You want to come?”

Miranda fingered the phone in her pocket. “No thanks,” she said. “Another night for sure. Just tell me in advance.”

“Suit yourself.” Adrian turned his back to her and walked off, giving her a small wave by cocking his hand. He didn't glance backwards at all.

Miranda fumbled to get her phone out, and listened to the mail she had. It was a hesitant and wandering mail from that boy she met at her Lit class-- Alexander, that was his name. “Get to the point already,” she muttered under her breath as she listened.

“...so, yeah, you should come over to my place sometime just to talk or hang out or whatever. Tonight's cool, or, you know, whenever. It's 2358 Lindon St., Apartment 13. It's Al, by the way.”

She thought about it. It was getting late, but it was a fairly long walk down to Lindon St. Not to mention she would have to walk through the Cemetery.

She phoned him back.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Alexander, it's Miranda.”

“Hi! Thanks for calling back, I wasn't sure you would.” Alexander's voice seemed firm over the phone, despite his shaky mail.

“It's no trouble.”

“I'm just at home right now, are you coming over?”

“Well,” Miranda said. “I was studying at Cliffside and just listened to this.” Be firm, she told herself. “It's getting pretty late; your place is a long walk away; and I don't accept spontaneous date offers.”

Alexander's voice interrupted her. “Who said this was a date?”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “If you're going to ask me, figure out something in advance, ok?”

“I... that sounds great. I will. Thanks again for calling back.”

“You're very welcome.” She flicked off the phone, but before she did so she heard some noise on the other end. She briefly considered calling Alexander back, but thought better of it.

Instead, she walked around the building on the Observation Walk. At the middle of Cliffside Library, the walkway thrust out over the chasm, suspended by the steel below. Amazingly, there were no wires above to support it. It was a bit of a marvel of engineering, as far as Miranda could see. There was a waist high railing that ran along the entire Observation Walk, but at this promontory the railing rose to the height of one's chest.

She grasped the third railing, the one at chest height and took a step onto the first rail, the one at shin height. The sounds of the water increased, and while the lights of the Cliffside Library were not bright enough to illuminate the river below, she could imagine the relentless rushing and crashing well enough. She looked down, and while the sound made it seem that the river was right next to her, it looked terribly far away.

She let go of the railing, and took a second step onto the second rail. She looked up. The lights from Archmatic University and the surrounding town weren't bright enough to drown out the open sky of the Great Wyoming Plains, and hundreds of cold stars spun in her vision. She reached out her hands cautiously towards the stars, as if she was trying to gently catch a firefly. There was no moon.

As her hands closed on the cool night air, a sudden rush of vertigo grabbed her. She fell forward onto the third rail, and brought her hands down rapidly to grab it, while at the same time bringing her knee up to try to hook herself into it if she were to continue to fall.

After her acrobatics, she managed to push herself backwards, and fell onto the Observation Walkway, hard. She sat against the railing, trying to rub her bruised back through the bars. She closed her eyes, and did her best not to listen to the thunderous sounds of the water below. She breathed in and out, trying to slow her desperate breathing down.

Miranda sat there a long time.

Chapter 4: 1,797 | 8,938/50,000
Author's Note in Comments