Carolyne Rose

02

"Well, we didn't find her at the library. She is probably up there," Robert comments. The three of us are standing behind the door to the rooftop, I not wanting to continue the search at all.

"Are we even sure...she intentionally wrote that as a confession?" I question. A girl like Carolyne Rose wouldn't do that, much less do it to me.

"Even if it wasn't meant for you, she probably wrote it as a random confession, wondering whom it will reach. Come on, go show your face and surprise her," James butts in.

I want to protest but I know the two wouldn't let me. So I take a deep breath and open the door.

A light breeze embraces me as I walk around the rooftop, wishing I don't run into her.
Carolyne Rose is less than acquainted to me but I somehow know she isn't the kind of girl to indirectly confess someone or idly wait for someone to come confront her. I continue, gripping a feeling it was all just a misunderstanding.

Right when I thought about turning around and going back, something stops my tracks.

A slight movement, a piece of a shadow, I do not know but I notice a figure in a blind corner from where I am standing. It was for the millennium of a second yet I couldn't help but approach near the figure. I know someone is actually with me, I know not who, but my curiosity got the better of me.

It is said you can spot a person even when they are behind, if long enough, if their thoughts about you loud enough. The girl standing on the edge of the concrete bound turned around to face me. Her goldilock hair moving with the breeze in rhythm, her emerald green eyes meeting mine. I can tell she had been crying. Hell, I can tell what she was going to do if I hadn't been curious. A couple of minutes passed until she ended the staring contest.

She pats her cheeks as if it would fix her reddened and swollen face from crying. She gets down from the concrete bound as if she wasn't planning to do a thing. She walks over and gulps down to hide the shock and calmly says, "What are you doing here?" Her voice is completely cracked.

"..." I thought of words to say.

She raises an eyebrow. I still can't speak but show her the flyer instead.

"...Did you write this?" I ask trying to halt the racing thoughts.

She squints her eyes looking at the flyer. "I did. What's wrong with that-" she stops as she reads the letters written on the flyer.

I decide it is best to ignore what happened a while ago and divert her attention. "Care to explain?" I question.

She stares at me, eyes open wide. She opens her mouth to say something but instead, she chuckles. And then, she laughs, looking like a totally different person.

"What's funny?" I question again.

"I must have mixed it up with some song lyrics I was listening to," she recalls, looks at me and laughs again. "And you came all the way to the rooftop to ask me that? What did you think, I made a move to confess my love or something?"

Caught in the spun of the moment, my eyes widen at her words as I feel it again, the rush of embarrassment. She studies my expression and exclaims, "My gods you did!"

"No," I try to protest but it is already too obvious. Not knowing what to do, I scratch my head with a sheepish smile.

"Peter," she calls all of a sudden. 'She remembers my name,' I thought.

"What you just saw," she says, "...you didn't."

I prepare to reply. I try to question her why she wanted to kill herself. I try to comfort her, I try to ask her what had happened. But I am not sure where to start.

"Come down with me," I offer at last. For some reason, I can't find myself doing what I should. She smiles at me. "If I jumped today, they will find out you are the only person besides me who entered this area. They will try to accuse you of something you had nothing to do with." I flinch at her words.

"So...I won't. Not for a while," she ensures me with a smile but I am not convinced. "Peter, don't worry," she says again. "I won't take back my words. So please...just leave."

I think to do something brash. I think to force her down the building to the principal's office explaining what she did. I think to do something. I think. But in the end, I do nothing but nod silently. I leave the rooftop, trusting the words of a suicidal stranger.