Page 108 of Oh, Flutz!

“Awesome,” he mutters, and I crease my eyebrows.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Is he mad at me for something? We’ve been having fun, haven’t we? Maybe I shouldn’t have dragged him half an hour away from everything else on our list just to take a picture. Things have been going relatively well—almosttoowell. Bryan would say it’s because I’m a cynic, but I can’t help but feel like something’s about to go wrong.

As if he can read my mind, he says, “Get out of your head, will you? Come on, there’s something I want to see.”

“Imay have miscalculated.”

I stare at the glass floor, where people are milling around, waiting their turn to walk on it. “You think?”

Turns out he’s dragged us to a death trap as punishment for me forcing him to do the photo on Cornelia Street—the One World Observatory. I remember Vanya saying once that it was on his bucket list, which probably just goes to show that only a lunatic would get within twenty feet of it, if Ivan Skorniakov had any interest. I turn back to Bryan, raising a single brow. “I dare you.”

He turns to see what I’m talking about, then scoffs. “No. No way.”

“Is Bryan Young afraid of heights?”

“Bryan Young is a sane human being,” he retorts. “And, for the record, I don’t see you running out there to risk your life, either. After you.”

I snort. “Please, Yasha, there’s no way in hell. You first.”

He pauses, looking back at me, brows furrowed. “What?”

“What? I said you first.”

“No, not that. You just called me something. What was it?”

I did?

“Yasha? Is it a cuss word or something?”

Oh. It must’ve slipped out. “No, it’s—“ I pause, frowning. “It’s like…” How do I explain? “I don’t know the word. Like Katya, for Ekaterina. Or Sasha for Alexandra.”

“A nickname?”

“Yes, but directly from the name.”

Unsurprisingly, Bryan nods like he totally understands what I’m saying, even though I can’t put it into words. He’s oddly good at that. “No, yeah, I get it.”

“Your name isn’t Russian, obviously, but I must’ve—” I hadn’t even realize I’d said it. I let out a little nervous laugh. “Sorry. It’s habit.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Bryan says hastily. He has an odd look on his face. “Say it again?”

Why is he acting so weird? “Um. Yasha?”

His lip quirks. “Cool.”

I’m getting uncomfortable. “I don’t have to use it, or anything.”

“No, use it.” He’s got the strangest smile on his face. “Please.”

I draw my eyebrows together. “Okay, now you’re being creepy.”

“I’ll go if you go,” Bryan challenges as a response, looking over at the platform, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Challenge accepted, Young.”

We step onto the glass floor.

“Wow,” Bryan says breathlessly, and I’m inclined to agree. Because, really,wow. There are windows on all sides, with an uninterrupted, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the skyline spreading around us; the sky a cloudless cornflower blue above the sprawling expanse of steel skyscrapers, the hazy green tree-lined hills sloping in the distance beyond the city limits, the boat-spotted river glittering below.

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