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I wasn’t really going to jump.
Fresh air seemed like a good idea after the crush inside the bar. I remembered wondering where the little staircase went, and following it up, and up. In my drunken haze it felt like miles, and my feet hurt in their high heels. When I reached a tiny balcony of sorts, I was glad to stop and rest.
I stared at the late-night city streets sparkling beneath me, many floors below. Auckland was so pretty at night—all those people dancing and drinking and being happy. I’d gone out to escape my thoughts, but they followed me anyway, taunting me. Not good enough. Not smart enough. Failure. Loser.
I let Marnie down so bad. So much for being her best friend. Her brother would never forgive me. And now she was gone, and I couldn’t tell her how sorry I was.
The only thing between me and the ground was a single waist-high rail. It would be easy to lean over it and let go. So easy.
Did I want to?
I curled my hands around the cool metal, surprised to find it wet. I hadn’t noticed the rain until now. It fell in a gentle drizzle, like the mist at the top of a mountain, and I peered up at the night sky. Pockets of stars appeared in the distance, the same as they’d always been, timeless and beautiful. I could have stood there all night, watching the stars playing peek-a-boo with the clouds.
A flash of colour jogged my attention, and I looked down again, to see a police car and a fire engine, blue and red strobes slicing through the darkness. No siren or alarm sounded, so I was safe to stay here. Burning to death wasn’t on my list of ways to go. I’d contemplated stepping in front of a train or walking into the ocean, but so far, I’d resisted. It’d been hard today, though. Everything crowded me.
I drew in a deep breath and then another, and peered over the railing again. I heard music—faint strains of some smoky jazz drifting on the air—and swayed along to it. This would be good for slow-dancing with a guy.
“Hey.”
The deep voice shocked me. I spun on my toes and let go of the railing. My foot slipped on the wet platform, but before I could fall, a strong arm wrapped around my waist and tugged.
I gazed into odd-coloured eyes and an intoxicating smile. Was this a dream? “Hey, yourself,” I said, my voice croaky from too many Tequilas.
“It’s getting a bit crowded up here. Let’s go back inside.”
I stared, fascinated. The stranger held me so close, I could have been plastered onto his body. His tall, built body. For some reason, he was dressed like a fireman.
“Are you a strippergram?” I asked.
Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Nope. A fireman.”
“Is the building on fire?
“Nope.” He took a step back inside and hauled me with him.
“Where are we going?”
“Another step. And another. That’s it.”
After the blissful darkness, the blazing lights inside hurt my eyes, and I covered them with both hands. “Don’t want to.”
“Steph. Oh my God. You’re okay.” My fellow student, Tara, threw her arms around me. “Thank you. We were so scared.” She spoke over my head to someone. The fireman? “Don’t ever do that again, Steph. You hear me?”
I sagged against her, my knees giving up the battle to hold me up. “I wasn’t doing anything.” My voice slurred, the alcohol catching up with me. “Only dancing.” Maybe the fireman would dance with me? I lifted my head to look for him, but he’d left, if he was ever here in the first place. I couldn’t be sure.