But he only grips the railing even tighter and shrugs, and I swear he looks as though he’s about to laugh. I’ll bet he was being sarcastic back at the restaurant. I’ll bet he’s going to show me the ugliest spot in the city, the perfect place to shred my heart to pieces. “Not exactly,” he finally says. “C’mon, our stop is next.”
We linger by the doors for a few seconds, the train vibrating and the noise drilling into my ears. I’m starting to understand why the majority of the people around us have earphones in. But it’s bearable for the few minutes that we’re on here, and when the train screeches to a halt at the next station, Tyler promptly reaches for my wrist and yanks me onto the platform.
I immediately recognize the station. It’s the Seventy-seventh Street one, which means that we’re not venturing anywhere other than Tyler’s apartment, it seems. This becomes even more obvious when we head out of the station and back the way we came from earlier. Tyler keeps on talking the entire time, but I’ve tuned out by now. I’m kicking at the sidewalk with my Chucks as I walk, slowly starting to feel sick the longer Tyler drags all of this out. I’m switching so fast between being frustrated and being nervous. One minute I’m mad at him for not getting this over with back at the restaurant, the next I’m wondering why I even brought it up in the first place.
We pass his car (and the truck and the Civic) and just as we’re about to head inside the apartment building, I come to a halt on the sidewalk. I tilt my head back and squint up at the building, which is taller than those surrounding it.
Tyler lingers by the entrance as he swings open the door, leaning back and pressing his weight against it as he folds his arms across his chest. “What’s up?”
I drop my eyes to his. “You said a nice view, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” I think he knows what I’m about to ask next, because his mouth is forming another one of those smiles of his.
It’s cooler now and the breeze has picked up only slightly, but it’s enough to blow my hair across my face, so I tuck some strands behind my ears and ask, “Is it the roof?”
Tyler doesn’t even reply to begin with. Only locks his eyes on mine as his smile grows into a grin. Eventually, he murmurs, “Maybe.”
I’ll bet the view from up there really is beautiful, but honestly, I want to tell him to just forget it. There’s no need to take me all the way up there to simply say the words I’m expecting him to say. It’s like he wants to be cruel.
“It’s not much,” he says as I follow him inside and toward the elevator. He pushes the button for the twentieth floor, the final one. “I mean, there are some chairs and some plants, but it’s mostly just concrete. It’s cool, though. You know, to go up there.”
I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jacket and stare at the floor of the elevator, biting the inside of my cheek as I try to think about how much the next few minutes are going to hurt. I think I might cry when he admits it, but I’m praying I’ll be able to hold up, at least until I get away from him. I’m worried that I’ll look pathetic, but even more worried that this talk we’re about to have will only make the rest of our summer together awkward.
The elevator door pings open, and this time Tyler doesn’t stand back to let me out first. Instead, he clears his throat and makes his way into the lobby. He’s trying to act casual, but I can tell he wants us to hurry up. Some guy squeezes past us, heading in the opposite direction, but we keep on walking until Tyler comes to a stop by the very last door on the left, one that looks different from the rest. It’s because it’s not an apartment but simply a door opening up to a flight of metallic stairs.
“Just up here,” he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way up, three steps at a time.
It’s dimly lit, but it’s only one flight of stairs, and when I reach the top Tyler is waiting for me by the fire exit. He offers me a closed smile before shoving the door open. We step out onto the rooftop, and it’s twilight by now, so at first all I can see are the tops of some of the other taller buildings in the area. As Tyler already told me, there are some wooden deckchairs dotted around, complemented by some matching tables, and some pots of plants that appear to have dried out in the heat.
Just as I’m glancing around, Tyler moves his body behind mine, and out of nowhere I feel his firm hands grasp my waist. My breath catches in my throat the second I feel his touch, and I lock my eyes on the tip of a building a few blocks away as I try not to focus on the fact that I can feel him breathing on the back of my neck. His lips creep closer to my ear, suddenly murmuring, “Come check this out,” in a husky tone. It’s enough to send a shiver surging down my spine. With his hands still on my waist, he directs my body toward the edge of the roof.