Then
She wants me to see it before I leave her for good. This is the only time that matters.
But the roof isn’t the same as a few pencils. This risk is so much bigger that I can only imagine the consequences if we get caught—and I can’t get caught. I promised my mom. But I also can’t resist the temptation of being truly alone with Amari for the first time.
“How do we explain being up on the roof if someone comes?” I ask.
“We don’t, because no one will. I’ve been planning this for weeks, and we’re going to be fine. Don’t you trust me?”
“You know I do,” I say honestly.
The nurse slides the glass shut at her station and starts patting her pockets.
“Sleep,” Amari says. “I’ll let you know when it’s time.”
I close my eyes tightly and shift my body into a believable sleeping position.
The door opens and the nurse comes in. I imagine she’s listening for our breaths, so I let out the one I’ve been holding in.
I hear her move around Amari’s bed and then make her way to mine.
The strong scent of hand sanitizer fills the space between us, and I have to stop my body from reacting.
After she makes her rounds, I hear the door open again, then click shut behind her.
I open my eyes and lock onto Amari’s. She smirks and mouths, let’s go.
We wait only a few moments before throwing back the covers and arranging pillows to stand in for us, just in case. Amari grabs our things and motions for me to follow her quietly. We slink down the short hallway to a staircase with an Emergency Exit sign. I freeze.
“Amari,” I say, pointing to the sign. I feel my heart rate pick up.
“It doesn’t work,” she says confidently, pushing the bar to open the door.
I brace myself for an alarm—but it never sounds.
Amari holds the door for me and points to the top of the next flight of stairs.
I make a run for it as she puts a piece of gauze in the latch to stop it from locking behind us.
I’m shaking by the time I get to the roof door, and Amari puts her arms around me.
I let my nervous body sink into the hug—our first—and try to focus on being in the moment.
“Do the honors?” she asks.
I take a deep breath and let the exhale force my hands to push the door open.
The night air hits my face, and finally, I feel excitement about what we’re doing.
Amari leads me to a spot she says has the best view and spreads out a gown she swiped from the bathroom.
The sky is clearer than I can remember and crammed with bright stars.
She sets the kitchen timer she “borrowed” from the unit for twenty-five minutes, leaving us five minutes to get back before the nurse comes by again.
“It’s so clear. Wow, I haven’t seen the stars in a year!” I squeal, lying back on the gown.
Amari puts one folded sweatshirt under my head, then the other under hers. Her touch is gentle, careful, thoughtful. This is a side of her I don’t know and it’s already making these stolen moments completely worth it.
“I’ve never seen you like this … ever,” Amari says.
“Like what?”
“Excited, relaxed.”
I smile.
“I’m really glad you came up here with me,” she continues. “I couldn’t let you leave without us seeing this together.”
“I’m glad too. There’s no way I’m forgetting this,” I say. We sit in silence for a bit. I move my eyes carefully across the sky, quietly naming the constellations.
Amari sits up and turns to face me. “You’re not going to forget me, right?” she asks, suddenly earnest.
I sit up when I realize she’s serious. “How could I forget you?”
“As easily as you will forget the other things about this place, I guess.”
“I don’t love those things,” I mumble.
“I heard that.”
I shrug.
“I love you, too,” she says, her eyes fixed on mine.
I hold her gaze, and her lips turn up in a small smile. “I never say that to anyone—not even my parents. You’re stuck with me forever now.”
“How do you know you love me?” I ask. I’ve never said it to anyone besides my mom and Desiree.
Amari leans in close enough that I can see little specks of light in her dark eyes. “How do you?”
“I just do,” I say. It’s the truth. I don’t know how else to explain it.
“Well, me too, then,” she says, moving back and tilting her head to the sky.
I glance at the timer. Five minutes. Time only flies when it’s borrowed.
“Are you going to be different when we’re out there?” she asks.
“Different how?”
“Like, pretend you don’t know me or that I’m not good enough for you? The way you were when you first got here.”
“I didn’t think you weren’t good enough for me! I was just scared. And I didn’t know you then,” I say with a laugh.
“You wasted time and now you’re leaving.”
I move closer, so our knees are touching. “You’re stuck with me, too. Forever.”
Amari looks at the timer. One minute. She turns back to me. “I’m holding you to that,” she says, smiling. She stops the timer before it can go off.
We put on our sweatshirts and Amari folds up the gown. I take one last look at the sky and breathe in the night air as deeply as I can.
Amari reaches down for my hand. I let her help me up. And there, under the stars, breaking the biggest rule we possibly can, we kiss. We linger in it as long as we dare, until we remember that we aren’t back in the real world yet, and the time we’re taking isn’t really ours.
“Ready?” Amari asks after we pull away.
“Ready,” I say.
Time is up. But on the other side, when we’re out of here, we’ll have all the time in the world.