Hello, I Love You

Hello, I Love You (Chapter Eleven)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Quentin clambered up from his navy blue bedspread and pried open the closed window across the room. A fresh breeze ruffled my brown curls, and I inhaled slowly.

"Come on," Quentin urged, gesturing me to join him. He cautiously inspected the perimeter outside his spring green-colored window, and nodded to himself. "Okay, we're clear. No one's outdoors."

"What are we doing?" I asked nervously, biting my bottom lip.

He chuckled slightly at my reaction, but kept his eyes glued outside. "Jumping out the window."

I took a huge step away from him. "I'm not jumping out the window!" I screeched, flailing my arms around.

"I was kidding," he chortled, meeting my eyes, "but keep your voice down." One... two... three... four... I exhaled in relief and switched my gaze to his carpeting again. It was more challenging to look away from Quentin's baby blue eyes than it was for other boys. I'm guessing it was because Quentin was at least three or four inches taller than me, but that was an awfully lame excuse...

"Are you coming?" Quentin questioned, placing one foot out the window and steadying himself on the roof. He used the window sill for balance and swung his other foot around in one swift motion.

"Yeah, sorry," I breathed, rejoining him at the window. I peered over the window sill and saw his feet situated on the dark brown roof panels.

Quentin carefully maneuvered farther onto the slightly slanted roof. "Here," he whispered, reaching out for my hand.

"I can do it," I assured him, waving off his offer of assistance. Quentin eyed me warily, as if he thought I couldn't do it, and placed a finger on his thin lips, signaling me to keep quiet.

Skillfully, I situated my hands on the window sill and put one foot on the roof. At this point, I was unaware of how to get my other foot there, too, without falling.

"Let me help," persisted Quentin, sighing and rolling his eyes. He placed his hands on my hips and spotted me as I swung my other foot around. Cautiously, we both spread out our legs and sat on the roof.

"Close the window," Quentin commanded.

I raised an eyebrow at his demand. "No, you," I countered, folding my arms across my chest. He shook his head at my resistance and reached over me, pulling down the window until there was only finger space at the bottom.

We sat there in an awkward quietness for a few minutes, staring at the Reynolds' freshly manicured front lawn. The April breeze caressed the treetops as the beating sun bore down onto our faces. The weather was brilliantly flawless. This 'unsupervised fun' really was exhilarating, I thought, smiling warmly to myself.

Quentin cleared his throat, interrupting the silence between us. I attempted to think of a conversation starter.

"Where are your siblings?" I inquired curiously. You'd think with seven children in their household there would be non-stop chaos.

"Dad's with them downstairs in the basement," Quentin explained. "That's where they normally stay because you can't really hear them."

"Oh." I drummed my fingers on the rooftop, all my uncertain feelings of sitting on a roof diminishing. "So are you allowed up here?"

Quentin simpered at me and chuckled. "What do you think?"

I scowled at him and stuck my tongue out. "At least I'm trying to make conversation," I snapped. Quentin shrugged and I imagined Mrs. Reynolds's reaction if she knew we were up here. Now that would be hysterical.