day the tenth
When Wren saw him on the roof, standing near the edge and looking down, she dropped the paper bag of groceries in her arms and ran over to his backyard.
"What the hell?" She yelled, causing his head to jerk up. The look of surprise quickly changed into a warm smile.
"How ya doin, neighbor?" The boy asked sheepishly.
"Why are you on your roof?" Wren's heart thudded against her chest. Would he actually jump? Did she prevent this attractive stranger from committing suicide? What would she say to get him off the roof? Wren barely knew him, only sharing small waves since their conversation at the art gallery. How would she convince him he has a life worth living if she didn't even know his life?
"I think the real question is, why aren't you on my roof?" He asked earnestly.
"Get down." Her eyes were wide, knowing that a simple slip could result in his blood being splattered across her white t-shirt. She grimaced at the thought and quickly shooed the image away.
The boy looked at her for a while as if considering the question. His lips finally parted. "Get up."
Wren knew that joining him may be the only possibility to have a serious conversation so she played along. "And how do you suggest I do that."
He smiled. "Go around back and I'll explain."
Wren swallowed the fear rising up in her throat. She tentatively picked up the brown bag that had been dropped onto the sidewalk. She looked inside and saw that the bread was squished. Wren winced at the wrath her mother would certainly impose on her after coming home from a night shift at the hospital.
But she shoved the thought aside because there was a boy on his roof and she had no idea what his mental state might be.
Wren stepped over ivy as she made her way to the back of the yellow house. The backyard was ridden with weeds and grass that hadn't been mowed in quite a long time. Outdoor lawn chairs were covered in mold and a glass table was covered in pollen, most likely the last remnants of the couple who had lived here before.
"What a surprise. It's lovely to see you again, neighbor." Wren looked up so see that Harry had walked over to the back of the home, looking down at her with hands stuffed in pockets. She had no idea how he was keeping his balance, wondering if he fathomed the dangers of how he stood or if he even cared.
"How do I get up?" Her voice held a calmness that didn't reflect the heart pounding against her ribcage. Wren has never seen a dead person and she didn't want the first one to be someone she could have saved.
"An eager one aren't we?" His voice was joking and Wren hoped that was a good sign. "Okay, so. You see that wooden plant holder? It's stronger than it looks. Climb up it and I'll hoist you up."
"That doesn't sound very safe," she swept her eyes across the object he instructed her to hop onto. It barely looked like it was hanging on without her weight added to it. Wren has terrible anxiety despite the little white pills she took every morning to subdue it. Taking risks like getting on stranger's roofs were definitely not one of her usually activities.
"Don't worry about a thing, your old neighbor has it all figured out." His grin was easy and Wren decided that if the frail plant holder could manage his weight she shouldn't have too much of a problem.
Wren took in a deep and slowly placed one foot on the first shelf. It made a creaking sound and she felt a bit of a wobble beneath her foot. She slowly put her other foot on the second shelf, this one giving way much more than the first.
"Are you sure?" Wren couldn't hide the fear in her voice.
"You're almost done, just keep going." His voice was genuine and she trusted him in a way she hadn't with anyone else. Sucking in one last breath, she stepped onto the final level. Miraculously, the stand held up and she found herself standing on the top, looking up at Harry's warm smile.
"Now the fun part," he outstretched his hand. "Grab on."
Wren tentatively grabbed his hand, hers feeling tiny in comparison. She couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement as their skin touched. He helped heave her up and the panic subdued once she was safely next to him. Wren couldn't quite tell if the queasy feeling in her stomach was due to the height or the curly haired boy next to him. He dropped her hand and gave a thumbs up. She smiled back as he moved away and motioned for her to follow.
Wren crawled after him, not quite trusting herself to stand up. The scratchy shingles caused scrapes on her hands and knees, small bits causing indentations in her skin.
He sat down at the end of the roof, his hands wrapped loosely around his knees. Wren watched him for a moment as he stared out into the neighborhood, an unreadable expression on his face. She finally took in his outfit of a powder blue button up shirt with pink flowers and matching pink pants. His shoes were simple brown loafers which balanced the outrageous colors.
Because she didn't want him to notice her staring, she cautiously sat down next to him on the edge. Wren had to swallow fear and fight herself from looking down.
"Hi, i'm Harry," she looked up at his face, startled. A hand was outstretched and a lazy smile was on his face.
"Wren," was her answer as she took his hand and they shook.
Once both hands dropped, they looked out into the neighborhood. Wren watched as people just arriving from their jobs got out of cars and walked into their homes. No one looked up to see two figures sitting on the roof and observing the world below. The sun hung low in the sky, its light dappled and beautiful. It hit Harry at such a perfect angle that Wren wished she could paint him and everything about the moment.
But that wouldn't do them justice, not for him or the beautiful scenery that surrounded them.
"Wren," Harry muttered softly, the name escaping his lips caused shivers to run down her spine and a tingle to start in the pit of her stomach."That name is just so indie."
**
i legit looked up indie names.
it's a sad existence i'm living in.
