“Up where?”

Mel took a few steps back, ran forward, and jumped high enough to grab hold of the ladder that was a few feet above our heads. She pulled herself up, climbed to the first level of the fire escape, and sent the ladder down.

“Up here.” She waved at me. “Come on.”

My eyes widened. I wasn’t sure why I did it. I usually wouldn’t do stuff like that, but I did it. I climbed the ladder and followed Mel.

She led me to the roof of the school. To my surprise, there was a garden that expanded all across the section where we stood.

“I take care of this place most of the time. I’ve never brought anyone up here. Especially boys. Consider yourself lucky,” she told me as she sat down on the rooftop. “You can sit with me, dude. Don’t be so nervous.” I walked across the rooftop, gazing at a good chunk of the neighbourhood from a view I hadn’t seen it from before. The trees, paths, and streetlights looked like a maze and I was able to watch it all as I sat down beside Mel.

“I’m up here a lot. The school lets me do it because I look after the garden. I’m not supposed to come up here at night time, but I do. That’s when I have to take the fire escape,” Mel explained.

“It’s beautiful up here,” I said as I examined my surroundings.

I looked up and saw a handful of stars.

“When I was younger, my parents used to take me camping by a lake where the stars reflected off the water. We used to skip rocks with the stars — that’s what Mom used to say, anyways,” Mel said.

“What happened to your mom?” I asked, without thinking.

Mel let out a deep breath. “My parents went through a really bad divorce. My mom . . . she moved halfway across the country, and I don’t hear from her much. Last I heard, she has a new boyfriend. I found out my dad blocked her number on our family phone. I speak to her on my cell, but I haven’t heard from her in a while.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I really wasn’t expecting that at all. Mel must have felt really lost because of it.

“Don’t sweat it. He’s a control freak. I have a lot of baggage. It’s whatever.”

She waved it off while grabbing a cigarette from her pocket. “Do you smoke?”

“Umm . . .”

“That means no. I’m not going to pressure you like this is some after-school special.”

I laughed away the awkwardness and watched her light it up.

“So . . . your real name is Melody?” I asked.

Mel sighed. “Yeah. I don’t really use my full name at all. It seems a bit pretentious.”

“I think it’s a beautiful name.”

She gave me a glare, took a puff of her cigarette, and let me see her smile.