THEN
10:10 P.M.
As it turned out, the roof, for the four of us, was very hard to get onto.
“So how do we do this?” Meg asked, looking up at the building.
“Climb?” Jake answered.
“Aren’t we clever?” she jabbed back.
Jake leaned over to Meg, resting his arm against the wall behind her. “We are very clever. And handsome, might I add.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but will you guys shut up!” I whisper-yelled, fearing getting caught. We were on the stairs, clearly visible to anyone who walked by. Our voices echoed through the campus and I just knew someone would catch us. “Okay, I guess one person can climb on the railing and then hoist himself up. Then he can help everyone else climb up,” I suggested.
“I’ll go up first,” Matt volunteered.
“You sure?” I asked.
“I’m strong,” he said, flexing his skinny arms. You’d think he was bragging to his mom about getting an A; it was adorable. He climbed up on the railing and easily touched the ledge. As he lifted up his arms, his shirt rode up and exposed a small sliver of skin. I shivered. With a simple press, he hoisted himself onto the roof in one quick motion. He made it look so easy, but I knew I couldn’t do it on my own.
“Ella?” he asked. I hopped up on the railing and realized we were much higher up than I had thought. “I’ve got you, don’t worry,” Matt whispered.
“I should tell you—I don’t like heights,” I responded before raising my hands. He grabbed my wrists and pulled.
As soon as my legs left the railing my heart raced and I suppressed a scream. I was essentially dangling from the roof and holding on to a guy I barely knew. I mentally kicked myself for my blatant stupidity and cursed that sliver of skin that enticed me into doing this not moments before. As I felt air brush my skin, I panicked.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” My hands were turning numb, my legs shaking; I was certain I was about to fall.
“You’re fine,” Matt reassured, pulling me up. I felt my body climb the building, but I wouldn’t open my eyes; I could barely feel his hands. “El, open your eyes,” Matt said, and with every ounce of energy, I did. I was waist level with the roof, almost on it. My heart sang. I kicked my left leg up and hooked it, then swung my right leg up to join the other, with Matt still holding on and helping me along. As soon as I was properly up, I practically kissed the roof, holding on as tight as possible. I’d never been so happy to be so high up.
“You’re fine, you know,” Matt said, letting go of my arms.
“I, er, yeah, sorry.” I blushed. I moved away from the edge, but then quickly sat down again a few feet away.
Meg came up next, and then Jake.
We walked to the center of the roof and leaned against a low wall—Jake, Meg, me, and then Matt. Still out of breath from my near-death experience, I breathed deeply as Jake handed out beers.
“Drink!” he commanded. So, we did.
“The town looks so small from here,” I marveled, taking in the scenery. “Like a Monopoly game, or something. I think I can see my house.”
“I can’t believe we only have one more year here,” Meg mused. Jake got up and walked back toward the edge of the roof.
“Ya hear that, school? We’re almost done with you! Screw you and your math and history and grades.” Matt jumped up and ran to Jake, pulling him back to us. We collapsed in a fit of laughter and cheap beer.
“It’s not that bad,” I said.
“Says the straight-A student,” Jake answered.
“I am not a straight-A student. Just because I don’t get suspended every day doesn’t make me a genius.”
“I don’t get suspended every day. Just the good days.”
“Welcome to Jefferson, by the way,” Meg said to Matt.
“I feel like it’s already home,” he replied, peering across the campus.
“Well, you’re on the roof. That makes you pretty official,” she said, clinking bottles with him. I knew she wasn’t interested, but still, a part of me was envious. She had it so easy with guys. I never did.
“It’s weird, this is the first place I’ve lived that my brother hasn’t,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.
“You have a brother?” Meg asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Yeah, he’s in college.”
“A college guy,” Meg mused to herself, to which I added, “And apparently the ladies love him.”
“Yeah, but is he in a band?” Jake inserted himself in, as he often did, and Matt just shook his head.
“No, but he plays soccer. He’ll probably be captain next year,” Matt said proudly, and I could tell he looked up to him a bit.
“Can I get his number?” Meg asked with a grin and Jake made a hmph noise in response.
“He has a girlfriend, unfortunately,” Matt answered. “Some girl he met at a bar. He sent me a picture. She has a neck tattoo.”
“Can I get her number?” Jake asked, and this time it was Meg’s turn to hmph.
“But, yeah, this place seems cool,” Matt continued, avoiding their digression. “It sucks I’ll only have a year here. And then, who knows.”
We sat quietly, sipping from our bottles. It was true for all of us. We had no clue where we’d be in a year, or what we’d be doing. The thought frightened me. Would we still be friends, even?
“Well, I’ll be a movie star, of course,” Meg joked.
“Take a bow, Miss Kensey,” I called out. Meg wanted to major in acting, which fit her perfectly. She had the drive and passion for the career, as well as the penchant for melodrama. Plus, she was strong and could take rejection.
“Mrs. Something-or-another, thank you very much,” she corrected me.
“So you’re married now?”
“No, but I will be by the time I’m a huge movie star.”
“Oy, you slags!” Jake interrupted with a fake British accent. He jumped up and paced around in front of us, drumming with his hands. “I’ll be a major rock star, headlining stadiums ’round the world. That’ll show all those kids in high school who dinnit believe in my music.”
“You’ll also be British, apparently,” I responded.
“O’ course,” Jake continued with the accent. “The best music comes from the Brits. Punk rock!”
“Didn’t British punk end in the seventies?” Matt questioned. I glanced to my right and saw him smiling at me.
“Clearly, mate, you haven’t kept up with the music scene,” Jake continued.
“Mate?” Matt mouthed to me. I laughed at his question, coughing from the sip I had just taken. I wasn’t far into the beer, but I was already feeling it.
“What about you, Matt? Any long-term plans?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I was thinking of going into music production. You know, working at a music studio.”
“You can produce my first record,” Meg announced.
“Of course, because every great actress must be a singer, too,” I added.
“Well, only the good ones.” She nudged me.
“Maybe we can duet,” Jake stated, walking over to Meg and putting his arm around her. She looked up at him for a second, hesitated, and then with conviction announced, “I don’t think so.”
I drew my attention back to Matt, who was fiddling with his watch again. “That’s cool. What made you think of it?” I asked.
“Well, I can’t rely on my mediocre bass playing and my boyish good looks forever,” he joked. I smiled.
“Oy, I can! I’m top meat right here!”
I waved a hand at Jake, ignoring his comment. “I think it’s a great idea.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Any plans yet?”
“I’m majoring in writing,” I said.
“Oh, that’s cool. I didn’t know you wrote,” he answered, face lighting up.
“A little. I want to be a journalist. Actually, your finding objects thing gave me an idea earlier.”
&nbs
p; “Oh yeah?” he asked, intrigued.
“Yeah. Like the photo you found in the market? I bet I could make a story from it, imagining what the people were laughing about. Kind of like you do.”
“Yeah!” he said excitedly. “I guess it is pretty similar. We both think up stories, in a way.”
“Exactly.”
Meg gave me a pointed look, and put her pinkie up. I locked mine with hers. “She’s really good,” she said to Matt, then to me, “I’ll only allow you to document my highly successful career.”
“It’ll be the first thing I write about,” I said, laughing.
“You should write about tonight,” Jake interrupted, still in a British accent. “But give me a beard. I always thought I’d look smashing in a beard.”
“That’s only because you can’t grow one, Mr. Peach Fuzz,” Meg rebutted. He gave her a sly grin and got even closer.
“So the accent is a permanent thing now?” Matt asked, looking over.
“I’ll keep going until the ladies tell me to stop.”
“STOP!” Meg and I both shouted out, laughing. Our one-syllable word echoed through the trees, bouncing off nearby houses.
“But seriously, how great would this place be for a gig?” Jake asked, staring over the edge of the roof again.
“You’ve already played here. Battle of the Bands, remember?” I asked, thinking back to their most recent show. When they struck the last note and froze their instruments in one final flourish, I got goose bumps. They were that good.
“Well, yeah, we played there,” he said, pointing down to the courtyard. “But I mean here. On the roof. El, when you write that book, have us play on the roof.” He stepped close to the edge again and struck a rock star pose, sloshing his drink everywhere. Legs slightly bent, he held his air guitar over his head, and opened his mouth. “HELLO, JEFFERSON HIGH SCHOOL!”
“I wonder why that doesn’t sound as cool as ‘Hello, LA!’” I asked.
Matt stood up, still next to me, and yelled out, “HELLO, ARKANSAS!” I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, laughing. I was still afraid of attracting too much attention to us. And of falling off.
“HELLO, ANTARCTICA!” Meg yelled, still sitting down beside me.
“I hear penguins are quite the rock aficionados,” I said to her.
“Dude—we’re taking the band to Antarctica. You think we’d be the first band to play there?” Jake asked, half joking, half serious, as he always was.
“I think we might be the first band to freeze to death there,” Matt answered.
“Touché,” Jake said, pointing at Matt. I looked over and noticed Matt staring at me. Not in a calculating way, but like he was intrigued. He looked interested, like he was trying to figure me out. Put me together, like a puzzle. Was I that much of an enigma? I smiled back nervously and I swear he blushed.
“So what can we say yes to next?” Jake asked. He had the attention span of a puppy, always pacing around and marking his territory. The roof was his. Meg’s eyes constantly followed his movement. I wanted to grab her, shake her and tell her to stop, but I knew it was too late. She was hooked, despite her protests. I suppose I wanted to shake Jake as well, because if he was actually good I’d be fine with them, but he was still conflicted. He was on the cusp of being either good or bad, often jumping from side to side. And it sucked.
“Should we stay or should we go?” Meg asked, reciting The Clash’s famous lyric.
“Nice,” Jake said with a point to her. She looked down.
“Game?” I proposed. “It can be all middle school-like.”
“So, polishing nails and calling boys?” Meg asked.
“We didn’t do that all the time,” I answered.
“I recall getting a few giggly calls from you girls,” Jake said.
“That’s because Shana loooooved you,” I said. Shana was the third member of our little group. We did everything together in middle school. That is, until Shana started cheerleading and found a new group of friends in high school. She traded headphones for megaphones and never looked back.
“Did she? I should give her a call.”
Meg playfully punched him in the arm, and pulled him down to our level. “Stop your pacing. You’re making me nervous.”
“You know I’m always in motion. So back to the game.”
“Spin the Bottle doesn’t really work with four people,” Matt said, bringing himself back into the conversation.
“Says you,” Jake said, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head.
“No,” Meg declared.
“Truth or Dare?” I offered.
“Never Have I Ever?” Matt asked.
“Never Have I Ever!” Jake yelled excitedly.
We couldn’t say no once someone decided, could we?
“Why’s he so excited?” Matt asked in a whisper to me.
“We’ve played before,” I explained. “It always ends with Jake far drunker than the rest of us.”
“That’s this bracelet, isn’t it?” Meg asked, holding her wrist up and pointing to the black-and-white-striped one.
“Ugh, yeah!” I said, turning to Jake. “Didn’t you try skateboarding blindfolded or something?”
“Don’t you mean didn’t I succeed in skateboarding blindfolded?” Jake answered proudly.
“You crashed into a tree. I wouldn’t call that succeeding,” Meg deadpanned.
“And what about you?” Matt asked me. “How do you usually fare during the game?”
“I guess you’ll see,” I said with a half smile, hoping to sound cool, though in truth, I was usually barely tipsy by the end of the game. We went around in a circle and each said something we’d never done. If someone had done it, they drank. It was pretty simple. Jake passed each of us another bottle of beer, but I wasn’t even done with my first one yet. I was a lightweight, so the one drink was already making everything wilder, brighter, and louder.
“Okay, me first,” I said, suddenly brave. “Never have I ever gotten suspended from school.” Both Jake and Meg drank. I already knew why, so no story was necessary. Matt didn’t, so I turned to him to explain. “Jake was suspended for skipping class one too many times, and Meg for punching a football player who made fun of her brother.”
“Why’d he make fun of her brother?” Matt asked.
“He’s gay,” Meg answered for me. “Which is such a shitty reason.”
“Are you going to explain every drink to Matt? ’Cause this game will take forever if you do,” Jake interrupted, and I rolled my eyes at him in response.
“Never have I ever gotten a high five for friendship,” Meg continued, to appease Jake, and get me back. I groaned and took a drink.
“Never have I ever prank-called guys,” Jake said, so Meg and I took a drink.
“Are we just trying to get each other drunk?” I asked.
“Isn’t that the point?” Jake answered.
“Well, never have I ever polished my nails,” Matt said. Meg and I drank in unison. I looked over to notice Jake drinking, too.
“What?” he asked. “I’m a rock god.”
“You wish,” Meg answered with an eye roll. She was starting to perfect those.
“Oh yeah? Never have I ever moved out of the state,” I said, eyeing Matt. He playfully jabbed me in the stomach with his elbow and sipped.
“Never have I ever been in a rock band,” Meg said next, getting the guys.
“Never have I ever had that girl thing that happens every month,” Jake countered.
“Gotten a period?” Meg asked, incredulous. “Really? You’re going there?”
“Why not?” he answered with a tilt of his head.
“Never have I ever dyed my hair?” Matt asked. Again, the three of us drank, and I turned to Matt.
“Meg and I used too much Sun-In dye last summer,” I explained. “It was a terrible idea.”
“You looked like a tiger, with those orange streaks!” she laughed.
“Oh, god, I really did,” I gi
ggled. “And Jake’s gone through every color in his hair, I’m pretty sure.”
“Never pink.” He pointed at me and I nodded in agreement. It was something most parents would be against, but his mom was okay with it. Jake was an angel compared to his dad, who was a hardcore alcoholic. He would come home wasted every night, barely speaking to his wife and son. Jake drank too—he said he learned it from his dad—but he vowed to never get as bad. He had seen too many consequences. Instead, he channeled his anger into music. And, as it turned out, his hair.
“Never have I ever kissed anyone on a roof,” I said, remembering a story Meg told me about her and Jake. Realization dawned on me as I noticed the look on Meg’s face. It wasn’t shock, it was just a slight raise of her brow. But that said it all. I shouldn’t have brought it up. But Meg and Jake happily tipped back their bottles. We were all too drunk to care about awkwardness. I squeezed her hand to say I was sorry, and she squeezed back. It was okay. It was common knowledge anyway. I tried so hard to consciously not bring up their past relationship that sometimes little details slipped my mind.
“You haven’t, that’s right,” Jake said, noticing that I hadn’t taken a drink along with them. “We should probably remedy that. Matt, kiss El.”
“Wait, what?” I spat out.
“I don’t know, I think you have to. It is the night to say yes and all that,” Meg added slyly. She squeezed my hand again. I knew this was her way of helping me finally get past my horrible ex-boyfriend, but it wasn’t just me she was putting on the spot. My face heated up and I couldn’t turn around to face Matt. Okay, I did want him to kiss me, but not like this. Not with us being forced to in front of other people. Not without any buildup or romance. Not while drunk.
“Err, I guess it’s the rules,” Matt said. I must have looked horrified because he quickly added, “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
Oblivious to the tension, Jake started chanting “Do it, do it, do it!” Cheeks burning, I faced Matt. I raised my chin and looked deep in his eyes. They were wide, embarrassed, and a little scared. But they weren’t hesitant, and they weren’t disgusted. I could see that he wanted to kiss me as much as I did him. And that’s when I was convinced.
The Night We Said Yes Page 9