The only way to tell how long I'd been up on that shabby rooftop was to watch the gentle setting of the golden sun. My only friends, the stars, had finally returned to speckle the blackness of the night sky. Suddenly the slow fade of increasingly symphonic guitar strums softly filled the night. I stood carefully, tiptoeing softly to the other side of the roof until I spotted Luke sitting on his roof with a guitar in his lap, facing the pink horizon where the sun had just set. I listened closely as he softly sang.
"If I could bottle the sky,
I would give it all to you tonight.
If I could gather the stars,
The moonlight would weep for who you are.
If I could just show you
What you deserve,
You would never settle
For this earth.
Such a masterpiece in disguise
That I would bottle the sky."
I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "What are you doing out here, Hemmings?"
He jumped. "I could say the same to you, Matthews."
"I'm always out here." I sighed deeply. "I've never been great at sleeping." He nodded silently. I shook my head, eyes widening. "Why am I telling you this anyway? You gave me a panic attack today. Did you know that?"
He bit his lip. "Hey, I'm sorry."
I shook my head, starting to walk back to where my blanked was placed. "Forget it."
"Harper!" He made the small jump from his roof to mine, startling me enough to stumble backwards.
"What?" I shouted.
"I..." He stopped, a sincere smile slowly broadening across his dimly lit face.
"What?" I said again, softly and concerned this time.
He smiled warmly at the ground, seemingly illuminating the darkness of night. "I could play connect-the-dots with the freckles on your cheeks," he murmured.
I felt a tear hanging in my eye. "What does that mean?" A grin tugged at the corner of my lips.
He shrugged. "I just forgot what you looked like without makeup."
My smile faded instantly. "It's frightening, I know."
He shook his head immediately. "It's beautiful." I looked away. "You're beautiful."
"Don't say that."
"Why not?"
"You shouldn't say things you don't mean."
"Who says I don't mean it?"
He settled onto my blanket, staring at his long legs dangling off of the ledge of my rooftop. I sat down beside him, distancing myself slightly. I always do.
"So, I guess I won't be late to Mrs. Shaphard's class anymore. You know, once my suspension is over." I furrowed my brow in confusion. He chuckled. "No football, no before-school football workouts."
I gasped. "You're off the team?"
He shrugged, laying back to stare up at the stars. "I never even liked football. My parents, they loved it. Ever since I was twelve years old, they always wanted me to, you know, to want everything they wanted. I could never tell them, 'Hey, Mom and Dad! I hate football. Guess what, I want to be a musician.' No, my mom would just about die."
"Did you write that song you were singing?"
He nodded slowly. I laid back beside him in silence, processing this truth I now held within me. "Start from the beginning," he said suddenly.
"What?"
He rolled onto his side, looking right into my eyes. "I want to know you. Tell me about all the things I missed. And start from the beginning. Tell me about your family."
I sighed. "Mama had an Illinois swing, and Daddy had a country drawl. They were a match from the start. I guess they burned out in the end."
"Hm."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He shook his head. "You do have a way with words, Harper Matthews. It's a shame the world won't take the time to listen."
I smiled, blushing as I looked away. "I'm not--"
A shrill and ear-splitting scream came from inside my house, shocking me enough to scramble up. "What was that?" I whispered.
YOU ARE READING
Free Fall. // l.r.h.
Fanfiction"We are all broken. That's how the light gets in." ~Ernest Hemingway
