I expect to see Kassie or Nori. But no, it’s Renner. My face is inches from his neck.
“You scared me. I thought you were someone else,” I say, my cheeks reddening when I meet his eye. I stiffen and look away to conceal my face—which I’m sure says it all.
One time I had a hard-core dream about making out with Clay. And the next day in Model UN, I could barely look in his direction without wanting to keel over and die. This feels infinitely worse.
“That was . . . a lot,” he says. “You good?”
“Yeah. I’m just . . . tired. Senior Week is stressful.” I still don’t feel like my body has caught up from the exhaustion of yesterday.
“Want to get some air?” He tilts his head up toward the stairwell.
“It’s off bounds. We’re not supposed to leave the gym,” I remind him.
“We already have, technically. Come on. Live a little,” he says, tugging my pinkie finger.
I let him guide me, grateful for the opportunity to delay facing Kassie and everyone else who witnessed my epic meltdown. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere you’ve definitely never been.”
I’m not sure how that’s possible. After four years on the student council, I’ve seen nearly every nook and cranny of this school. We reach the next floor and he leads me through a darkened hallway near the English department, then through a door I always thought was a janitorial closet. It opens to a narrow set of cement stairs.
“What is this?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
Turns out, the super-secret stairs lead to a super-super-super-secret rooftop. It boasts a sweeping view of the parking lot and part of the football field. I stare out at the field wistfully, reminiscing about all those brisk fall evenings Kassie and I spent watching Ollie’s games from the bleachers. She always made me paint my face in school colors, though her paint would magically stay on all night while mine would smudge in a matter of minutes.
“How did you know about this? I had no idea you could get up here,” I say, rubbing the gooseflesh that’s emerged on my bare arms.
“That’s what happens when you live dangerously,” he teases. “Some of the guys on the football team used to come up here to work out when the weight room was too full. Run drills and stuff. Everyone liked it because the coach didn’t come to check on us much here. I used to hate it, though.” He peers over the edge, gripping the wall for support.
A bubble of laughter rises in my throat. I’m not used to vulnerable Renner. “Still haven’t conquered your fear of heights, huh?”
“Not quite.”
“Remember when you had to be rescued from the zip line on Ollie’s birthday?” I clutch my chest at the memory. Renner climbed the very first tree, froze, and needed the skinny instructor to rappel him down. He was first in line, so everyone saw.
“Yes. Thanks for the reminder.” He nudges me and sits on the gravel.
I plunk down next to him, pulling my knees to my chest.
“So . . . that was interesting back there,” he says.
“Everyone heard, didn’t they?”
The corner of his mouth slants upward, ever so slightly. “I mean, not everyone. Only about seventy percent of the seniors.”
I turn to him. “Look, before you say anything, I know what I said to Kassie was wrong. It was mean. I’m going to apologize to her.”
“No. You were right. You may need to work on your delivery . . . but what you said was true. She isn’t a good friend to you, Char.” He says it with such conviction. It reminds me of when Adult Renner said exactly the same thing about her.
“She tries to be. She really does,” I pledge, pushing the fine gravel back and forth. “Like, I don’t think she means to fail me so much. It’s not malicious. And maybe my expectations are too high?”
He waves me off. “Remember that time in ninth grade when you planned her birthday party and she came for like an hour and then ditched you to go to Ollie’s?”
I definitely remember that. It was when they first started dating. She and Ollie were already attached at the hip, and I remember selfishly hoping it would only be temporary, until she moved on to another guy she was less obsessed with. But she never did. In fact, their infatuation only grew. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved Ollie. But it’s hard not to feel a twinge of bitterness toward him. He’s the reason our friendship changed.
I wince at the memory. “I went all out for that party. I biked everywhere to find the right streamers. I taped them around my house. Spent the whole night blowing up balloons. I even got her a cake from the bakery downtown she likes.”