Zach:Oh, yeah? Is that a euphemism? Because I distinctly remember last week your knees knocking at the prospect of a zip line.
The dots appear before I've even had the chance to put the phone down.
Honeycomb??:[video attached]
I press play, and the first thing that fills the screen is water. Endless, shifting blue with sunlight shimmering across the surface in sharp flashes. The camera tilts slightly, and then the cliff comes into view.
Holy shit.
Whoever filmed this is standing at the base, which makes the drop look insanely high. The rock face stretches up and up, jagged and uneven, until it cuts into the sky.
“Fuck, no,” I mutter the second I spot her.
She’s standing at the top in an emerald, green bikini. Her hair spills over one shoulder, catching in the wind as she leans forward to look down.
Too far. That’s way too fucking far for her.
She rocks back on her heels and takes a few steps away from the edge.
Good.
But then she turns back.
I can hear her before I see her move. She lets out a high-pitched, nervous laugh, which teeters on the edge of panic. When she appears again, she shakes out her hands like she’s trying to get rid of the fear and drags in a deep breath that lifts her shoulders.
“Ho-ney. Ho-ney. Ho-ney. Ho-ney.”
The chant builds from below, echoing off the cliff, and she inches forward again.
My toes curl in my socks, my whole body tensing, as if I can somehow stop her from here.
Don’t do it.
She steps closer, right to the edge.
Stops.
For a second, she just stands there, looking down at the water.
But then I see it.
The moment she decides she’s doing it.
Her eyes close, her shoulders square, she pulls in one sharp breath—
—and she jumps.
“Shit—”
My heart lurches as she drops, her body cutting through the air faster than I expect. She screams the whole way down; the sound swallowed by wind and distance until she cleanly hits the water.
Gone.
I stop breathing, waiting for her.
The surface ripples, then stills for half a second too long, and my grip tightens on my phone.
Come on.
