“What magic words?”

“It goes like this.” I cleared my throat for theatrical purposes. “Repeat after me: Oh wonderful and handsome Nick, who smells better than a rose in the summer, will you please show me the roof?”

“You’re weird.”

I released my arm and shoved my hands into my pockets. “Do you want to go to the roof or not?”

“How about please?”

“Perfect.” I smirked. “Right this way.”

Eliza looped her arm back through mine, and I tried not to get too caught up in how natural it felt to be close to her. I led her to one of the secret ladders inside a [details redacted].

“How did you even find this?” she asked. “Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

The ladder whined as I pulled it down. I steadied her as she climbed on.

“You gonna be okay in those shoes?” I asked, her high . . . whatever they’re called . . . seemed dangerous. But what do I know about shoes?

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Fair enough.”

I climbed close behind her, ready to help if she slipped, which she didn’t. Not even close.

We stepped onto the roof, which overlooked the intercourse fields as well as the student parking lot. Eliza went to the railing overlooking the fields and leaned into it, resting. The only light catching her was a slim shadow from the parking lot and the starry sky, hanging over us like a blanket.

She shivered—my cue to give her my jacket. Girls go crazy for things like that. Also, she needed it, and I wanted to be nice. “Here.” I draped it over her bare shoulders.

“Really, Ni—”

“It’s all right. You can have it.”

“Thanks.” She wrapped it around her, wearing it way better than I ever did. “And to answer your question, it’s surprisingly gorgeous up here. I thought it would be mostly parking lot, and I didn’t think there was anything nice about this school. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“What’s that like?” I joked.

“Ha.” Eliza pressed against the railing, which was a yard’s length of cement around the roof. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“You mean another thing?”

“What?”

“Asking if you can ask me something is asking me something.”

“Smartass.”

I bowed. “At your service.”

A helicopter flew overhead, casting a green glow over us, and making our hair go everywhere. Eliza attempted to comb hers back into place, eventually throwing down her hands in defeat, giving victory to the tangles. I settled against the railing, a few inches away from her.

“What did you want to ask?” I said.

“Oh, right. Why haven’t you ever had a girlfriend?”

A sudden jolt of hot air filled my lungs, making it hard to breathe as I realized how much she was initiating here: leaving the auditorium, brushing against me, asking this . . . those weren’t all coincidences, right? Unfortunately, presuming with this girl would be fatal.

“Can I phone a friend?”

Do it, Nick, I commanded myself, dragging my fingers through my hair for the millionth time. Just tell her.