Chapter 42 Roof Access
Roof Access
To her credit, Yumi tries to look remorseful when the group returns to the hotel, most of them puffy-eyed and grinning.
For maximum drama, the producers have positioned Bee and me on a couch in the lobby, directly in front of the hotel’s revolving door. Each team that steps through drops their smiles immediately—Logan and Yumi bring up the rear, no smiles to drop.
Bee rushes forward, very much embodying her name as she flits around Logan, quietly asking questions and touching one part of his body or another. It’s almost endearing. I wonder if I think that because of our conversation or if she really is just softer in this moment.
I grind my teeth so hard, I expect one to chip.
“Noe,” Yumi starts, but I angle my body away from her. I don’t even want to look at her.
“Not now,” I bite out. Not with everyone standing around, not giving the producers exactly what they wanted from this setup.
She lowers herself onto the cushion beside me. “Okay, but I—”
“Not now, Yumi,” I snap a little too harshly, popping to my feet.
Her gaze darts to the cameras, the other contestants, and back to me in warning. The cameras, she mouths.
But the feelings I thought I had under control start to spill over, like carbonation when soda is poured too fast. “I don’t care about the cameras. You know why I’m here, and you couldn’t even—” I break off in a sob.
The outburst catches everyone off guard, but possibly me most of all.
Yumi’s expression shifts from defensiveness to sorrow. “I tried. I promise.”
Her hand lands on my arm, a silent plea for me to calm down, but I shake her off. The floodgates have opened, and I can’t stop the torrent of anger. “I know you tried. And maybe you would’ve been able to do it, if—”
Yumi’s eyes flicker with alarm, and I cut myself off, the beginning of an accusation hanging heavy in the air, and for a moment, no one speaks. The cameras continue to roll, capturing every moment of our confrontation.
KC steps forward, his voice calm and steady. “Maybe we should—”
“Stay out of this,” I snap, turning my glare on him.
To Yumi, I say, “Don’t follow me,” before storming off toward the elevator.
I feel everyone’s attention on my back, but I don’t care.
I just need to be alone, away from the cameras, away from the constant manufacturing of my emotions and thoughts.
I feel like a marionette. I’m questioning how much of what I feel is my own doing.
The doors open with a ding and I step inside. There’s not really anywhere to go. The building only has two floors and I don’t know which of the rooms is mine, but I press the 2 button anyway, tearing my mic pack off and clutching it in my hand as I step out of the elevator.
Something feels uncanny about the echo in the empty hallway. And when I realize what it is, I almost laugh; I only hear one set of footsteps. No Petter. No Bo. No Yumi. Just me, walking alone, for the first time in what feels like forever.
I reach the end of the hallway and, in a moment of impulse, push open the door to the staircase.
The metal door creaks open with a protesting groan, and instead of going down, I choose to go up.
Toward the big red sign that reads Roof Access.
The one place Yumi Panganiban will never go, even if it is only three stories up.
I pause for a moment, hesitating before pushing it open. The cool night air rushes to greet me, carrying with it the hum of the city.
Walking to the edge of the roof, I place my mic pack on an overturned plastic crate and lean over the elevated stone barrier and peer down at the street below.
We’re not right on the piazza, but on one of the side streets close enough that the chatter filters over on the breeze with the clink of silverware on ceramic, the music of a nearby cafe, the glow of the fairy lights strung up outside restaurants.
I miss my dad.
I hope he got to see Siena before they sent him home.
I hope he loved it, that he noticed the weird little animal sculptures carved into the buildings’ walls.
I hope he felt strong and healthy as he walked the uneven cobblestone.
I hope people didn’t stare at the illness-tinged color of his skin too much and make him uncomfortable.
He’s been to Italy once before, told me never to come because he hated it.
He was on a business trip in Rome. The city of bad drivers, he’d told me.
People just park in the middle of the street.
Someone tried to steal his phone right out of his hand as he was using it.
I hope Siena redeemed the country’s reputation for him.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely register the sound of footsteps approaching. Before I can turn around, a familiar voice breaks the silence.
“I thought to myself,” Yumi muses softly, teasingly. “If I were Noelle, where would I go to hide from me?” I don’t respond immediately, allowing her presence to sink in and soften the tension in the air as I stare out across the rooftops. I hear the sound of her mic pack joining mine on the crate.
“I’m sorry,” she says from a few feet behind me.
“You were right. Maybe I would’ve chosen him if I had been around for the last year.
But…” Her hesitation is long, and in that time I don’t think anything she says will make me feel differently.
Then she finishes, “I tried, Noe. But it was so high up.”
I turn, breaking my silence. “You said it didn’t bother you.”
Her shrug is just barely illuminated by the lights from the surrounding buildings.
The waves of her dark hair are more dramatic in silhouette.
Everything about her is more dramatic and more beautiful in this light.
Her skin glows, her eyes sparkle, the sad smile on her face is the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen. This is deity shit.
“I lied,” she says simply.
Everything in me hurts as the weight of my words from earlier settle fully onto me. “I didn’t—I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean…I was just…overwhelmed.”
The space between us feels both physical and emotional, a chasm that I don’t know how to build a bridge across. I wonder if she’s keeping her distance because of me or because of the height of the roof. I take a step closer to her, away from the edge.
She echoes my movement. “I know.”
And there’s so much I want. I want to apologize and I want to yell at her for lying. I want to talk about how we’re going to smooth over the huge mess I made for us tonight, but before I can say anything, she steps forward, closing the gap between us, and opens her arms.
I step into her and she tucks her head against my chest. Resting my head on top of hers, I say, “I just miss him.”
“I know that, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for him.” She pulls back, meeting my gaze with a vulnerability I’m sure is mirrored in my own face. “I’m here now.”
I don’t think, because the circle of my feelings expands beyond words.
I reach forward, resting a hand on her cheek, and run my thumb along her bottom lip.
Yumi leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed.
Her breath hitches as I close the remaining distance between us and press my lips against hers.
The kiss is gentle at first, even more tentative than anything we’ve done in front of the cameras.
I’ve had enough of this—the chaste nonsense that’s going to air on The Adventureverse’s streaming service—I want more.
I sink my fingers into her hair, tugging lightly, tilting her head to the side and kissing down her neck.
With a moan, Yumi’s arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling my lips back to hers. The world fades away, leaving only the rush of blood in my ears and the feeling of her licking into my mouth.
This, it occurs to me, is a moment I’ve been fantasizing about for years. I’m living it. And it’s so much better than I imagined.
Her hands, warm and soft, come to rest on my hips, meeting my skin where the hem of my shirt has ridden up. She pulls me into her, and I melt. Everything after that is a blur of gasps and murmurs and the faint taste of tiramisu.
When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against hers. Yumi looks up at me with a mixture of surprise and longing in her eyes. I brush a stray strand of hair away from her face, my heart pounding in my chest.
“I’m here now, Noe,” she repeats, a promise and a plea all wrapped into one. “I swear.”
I nod, a sense of peace settling over me for the first time since I stepped out of my dad’s house with my Adventureverse pack on. “I know. Thank you.”
Her hand cups my face, eyes burning. “I mean it, Noelle. This is real for me.”
And I want so badly to believe her.