Just Plain Weird by Tom Upton

with it all. Sure, I can see that already. I ought to give you the chance to run away before it’s too late-- that would be fair-- only I’m sure you’d never run. Let me ask you something,” she said, gravely. “If I were to slip right now, would you be able to stop me from falling? Have you lifted enough weights?”
              I was dumbfounded at the question. I glanced down at her feet, and saw that one of her shoes was hanging over the edge.
              “I guess,” I said, and tightened my grip on her hand. “Why are you asking?”
              “I’m just trying to make a point.”
              “Well, you’re creeping me out, so stop it.”
              “I just need to know,” she insisted. “Let’s say that there’s a time element involved, and I have to establish a few things fast. Would you let me fall?-- be honest, now.”
              “No, of course not.”
              “If you did let me fall, it would be no big deal, you know? Not really. Look, you just met me, I’m a little loony, we went for a ride, and it all ended in tragedy. Tragedies happen every day, Travis. No big deal. Nobody would blame you, I’m sure, and you’d go on with your life. You’d start school in September, join the football team or whatever. Sooner or later-- sooner, I think-- you’d find yourself a girlfriend-- probably one of those mindless cheerleader types-- shame on you-- but you would go on. You’d go to college, maybe-- if you’re knees hold up and you could get an athletic scholarship. You’d probably graduate and end up marrying some ditzy girl who went to college for the sole purpose of finding some guy to marry. About three seconds after you’re married, she’d start churning out kids, which up until then she’d claim she wasn’t the least bit interested in having, and then you’d end up stuck in some boring job you could never hope to leave because you have way too many bills,   and so on and so forth, until you’re a decrepit old man sitting on a rocking chair on his front porch, whiling away the golden years, never giving a second thought about the crazy girl that fell into the quarry and broke her neck so many years ago.”
                I started to pull her away from the edge, but when I did, she leaned toward the hollow. If I let go of her hand now, there was little doubt that she would fall over the edge and into the emptiness beyond. There was no expression on her face, whose skin was smooth and perfect and pale as porcelain.
              “Eliza, stop this,” I pleaded.
              “I’m sorry I have to put you through this, Travis, but it’s absolutely necessary. I really should come with a warning label.”
              “Eliza, please--”
              “‘Please’ doesn’t cut it, bubba,” she said, and starting pulling away harder. “Think of something else.”
              “What?”
              “I’m not going to tell you, silly. That would be cheating. Now, tell me what I need to hear.”
              “What are you talking about?” I demanded. My knuckles were white from holding her hand so tight, and now she was leaned out over the abyss, suspended out in space from my hand and from the traction, her worn deck shoe had on the rock cliff edge.
              “Think fast, Travis,” she said calmly. “I guarantee, I’m stronger than I look. The next time I pull away, I’m dead meat falling. Save my life. Be a hero, bubba. Think.”
              “Think what? I just don’t know what to say.”
              “Say the magic words.”
              “I don’t know what you want.”
              “Reason it out,” she said.
              I thought for a couple seconds. “I love you?” I said.
              “No, no, no, no… that is just so wrong. And in the form of a question on top of it!