The rooftop
Chapter 48
Sophia
The weekend was okay. I managed to finally finish my internship assignment and unpack the rest of my boxes. My room actually looks like a home now. I even set up my little painting area right in front of the window, giving me a perfect, unobstructed view of the city skyline.
But beneath the satisfaction of a clean room, there is a persistent ache in my chest. A heavy, nagging feeling I can't shake.
I know I shouldn't care.
He has probably already forgotten about it, but I can't stop thinking about what happened in my kitchen.
Even now, sitting in class, I am entirely disconnected from reality.
The teacher is droning on about some historic war between America and Japan.
Normally, this kind of history fascinates me, but my mind is trapped in a loop.
I keep seeing the exact moment the arrogance drained from Lorenzo's face.
His eyes had looked so cold, but right behind that icy surface, there was a flash of raw, genuine hurt.
And I can't stop wondering what his family is actually like.
I mean, I've met his mother, and she was perfectly sweet. I even met his little sister once.
But not his father.
So, yes. Lorenzo was right.
I don't know anything about him. I know nothing about his real life, besides the glittering, shallow stories people whisper in the hallways.
A heavy wave of guilt sits like a stone in my stomach.
Be kind and Strong
It doesn't matter that I can't stand him. It doesn't matter that he is arrogant. I said something, and I need to apologize.
"This is sooo boring," Maria groans beside me, restlessly twirling a strand of her vibrant red hair around her finger.
I swallow hard, looking down at my notebook. If I don't ask for her advice right now, I'm going to lose my mind.
"Maria... I think I did something really stupid."
"What do you mean?" She perks up instantly, her gossip radar ticking.
I glance toward the front of the room. The teacher is already glaring in our direction.
"I'll tell you after class," I mutter.
"Fine."
"You said that ?!" Maria's voice explodes in the hallway.
"Shh! Not so loud!" I hiss. I grab her arm and yank her into a secluded alcove near the lockers, away from the heavy flow of students. I look around nervously, making sure no one heard.
"Wait, hold on." Maria holds up a manicured hand, her brow furrowing as she processes the information. "Why was he even at your house anyway?" A slow, teasing giggle bubbles up from her throat.
"Because..." I freeze, biting the inside of my cheek, completely unsure if I should voice the truth.
"Sophi! What aren't you telling me?"
"Because we have to help with his stupid family anniversary event, okay?" The truth bursts out of me. My palms go instantly slick with nervous sweat, and I chew frantically on my lower lip.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Maria asks.
"Because it's nothing special! But that day... he was annoying me so much. We started arguing, and before I knew it, I said something horrible. And now I just... I feel kinda guilty, I think."
Maria shifts her expensive Hermès bag to her other shoulder, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Could it be that you feel guilty because you actually..."
"Oh, absolutely not. Don't even start, Maria."
"I'm just saying."
"No! I can't stand the guy," I insist, my voice tight. "He is the entire reason everyone at this school hates my guts. Have you forgotten that? I'm just a decent human being. Unlike him."
"And yet, you still feel bad," she points out with a knowing smirk. She casually slides her math textbook into her locker and slams the metal door shut with a loud thud. "If it's eating you alive, just apologize to him."
"No... I mean... I can't. I didn't mean it the way it sounded," I stammer, exhaling a ragged breath as I scramble for excuses.
"What didn't you mean?" James's deep voice suddenly cuts through the air, catching me entirely off guard.
"That she...ow!" Maria screams as I violently stomp on her foot.
"Oh, nothing special!" I cut in quickly, plastering a fake, bright smile on my face.
James raises an eyebrow, shooting me a deeply skeptical look.
"Right," he murmurs, his tone dripping with doubt. He checks his watch. "Are you guys coming to the cafeteria?"
I'm already nodding, relieved by the distraction, when Maria aggressively shoves her elbow into my ribs.
"I'm going, but Sophi actually has something urgent to take care of."
I shoot her a panicked glare.
What now?
"Right, Sophi?" she prompts, giving me a stern, meaningful look.
"Uh... yeah. Right. I'll meet up with you guys later," I force the words past my teeth.
I watch as James and Maria join the rest of our class, heading down the corridor toward the crowded cafeteria. The heavy scent of school lunch wafts over, and my stomach hollows out. Great. Just great.
How am I supposed to find him?
I start on the third floor, where the upperclassmen have their homerooms. But every time I ask someone about Lorenzo Calloway, I'm met with either ice-cold stares or a dismissive, "No idea."
On my way back down, I stop a group of students in the stairwell. One of them shrugs. "He usually hangs out on the roof," he says, before casting a warning look toward the heavy metal door at the top of the stairs. "But regular students aren't allowed up there."
After getting cryptic directions to the hidden staircase, I find myself standing in front of the heavy metal door. I wait there for five agonizing minutes. My hand hovers over the handle while I debate whether to turn around and run.
Finally, I swallow my pride, take a deep breath, and push it open.
A flight of concrete steps leads upward. As I step out into the open air, my jaw drops. The school's rooftop terrace is gigantic, looking more like a luxury lounge than a high school building. The view of the city from up here is breathtaking. I'd spend my breaks here too if I could, I think.
Then, the sound of loud laughter and familiar voices cuts through the breeze.
My throat goes bone-dry. My heart rams against my ribs like a trapped animal.
Shit. He isn't alone.
I'm already spinning on my heel, ready to flee, when a deep voice makes me jump out of my skin.
"This is a private...oh, it's you." Lorenzo's friend cuts himself off the second his eyes lock onto my face.
Just breathe, Sophia.
"Hey, uh... so sorry. I'll just go," I stammer, trying to squeeze past him toward the safety of the stairs.
But he catches my forearm, blocking my escape, and steers me backward onto the terrace. "Hey, Lorenzo!" he shouts over the ambient music.
I shake my head frantically, my cheeks burning hot. "No, please... it's fine. Really."
"You've got a visitor!" his friend calls out anyway.
Before I can break free, he shoves me straight into the open lounge area. I stumble, coming to a halt directly in front of the table.
Lorenzo is slouching back in a sleek lounge chair, his long legs stretched out with his feet resting callously on the glass tabletop. The moment his dark eyes land on me, his gaze turns razor-sharp. A wave of instant regret crashes over me. Coming here was a monumentally bad idea.
The rest of his rich crew immediately starts smirking. A few low "Oooohs" echo through the group.
But Lorenzo cuts them all dead with a single, icy glare. They fall silent instantly. The absolute power he wields over these people is terrifying.
Only Vivien, sitting entirely too close to him on the edge of his chair, doesn't back down. She glares at me, her eyes drilling holes into my skin. "What do you want?" she hisses, her voice dripping with venom.
"I... well, I just wanted to... I..." I stammer, feeling suffocatingly small under their judgmental stares. I feel like a little kid caught sneaking into the kitchen in the dead of night.
"Too stupid to speak?" one of the girls laughs.
The rest of the table joins in, the harsh sound of their amusement ringing in my ears.
My grip tightens on the strap of my bag until my knuckles turn white. Just as I'm about to snap back and defend myself, Lorenzo abruptly stands up. He marches directly toward me, his towering frame cutting off my view of the others.
Before I can process it, he grabs me firmly by the arm and drags me behind a heavy concrete sidewall, completely shielding us from the group.
He lets go, looking down at me. His face is an unreadable mask as he waits for me to speak.
"What is it?" he asks coldly.
As he speaks, his breath washes over my face and a strange, sharp mixture of strong alcohol and fresh mint hits me.
Has he seriously been drinking already?
At school?
I reprimand myself instantly.
Get a grip, Sophia. It's none of your business.
"I wanted to... well... you knwi what forget it" His intense, unblinking gaze completely shatters my train of thought. It feels like he is looking straight through my eyes, analyzing my soul.
But by my attempt to leav he quicklyplaces his large hand on the Wal right next to my head, stopping me in my track.
"Yes?" he prompts, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly murmur.
I swallow hard. "I'm sorry," the words finally burst out of me, desperate and raw.
Lorenzo raises a single, dark eyebrow but doesn't say a word. He just keeps staring.
"For what I said in the kitchen," I rush on, the confession spilling over my lips before I can stop it. "You were right. I don't know anything about you, and you don't know anything about me. We should just do our jobs and then..."
I cut myself off because a slow, arrogant smirk begins to spread across his face.
"Why are you smirking?" I snap, my guilt instantly flaring into hot, defensive anger. "I'm trying to genuinely apologize to you!"
"I understand, Miller," he says smoothly. His voice drops into a dark, velvety register. For a fraction of a second, his gaze drops to my lips. It stays there a beat too long
My heart is hammering so loudly against my ribs I'm terrified he can actually hear it. My skin tingles where his proximity radiates heat.
"You understand?" I whisper back, completely lost in the intensity of the moment.
My eyes automatically drift down to his hand, the one still resting on the wall right next to my ear. My breath catches in my throat. I freeze, my eyes widening in absolute horror.
His knuckles are completely split open. The skin is raw and heavily bruised.
"Oh my God, what happened to..." I start, my hand instinctively reaching out to touch his skin.
But before my fingers can make contact, Lorenzo yanks his hand away, shoving it deep into his jacket pocket. He instantly takes a giant step back, creating a cold, deliberate distance between us. The intimacy vanishes into thin air.
"Yeah, I understand. And now go back to your friends," he says, his voice returning to that detached, aristocratic ice.
"This is a private area."
Dickhead
And just like that, the insufferable, arrogant prick is back. A wave of hot fury washes over me, making me deeply regret ever feeling guilty or wasting my breath on an apology.
"You are unbelievable, Lorenzo," I hiss, my eyes blazing as I shove past his shoulder.
I don't wait for him to respond. I storm out from behind the wall and march straight back to the heavy metal doors, leaving his toxic world behind.
At least I didn't need to have a guilty conscience anymore. That's what I keep telling myself as James and I walk toward Biology class. Maria had excused herself right before the bell, claiming she had something urgent to discuss with the principal.
"You good?" James asks as we take our seats.
He must have caught the tension in my shoulders. I try to look casual, but as I glance across the classroom, my heart sinks. Sitting a few rows over is one of the girls from the rooftop crew. She's staring directly at me, her eyes shooting absolute daggers.
"Yeah, perfectly fine," I say, forcing a quick smile.
I watch James, waiting for him to press the issue, but the sudden buzz of his phone distracts him. He pulls it out, his expression instantly tightening as he reads the screen.
"Your dad?" I ask, pulling my textbook out of my bag.
"No, my mom, actually," he murmurs, his thumbs flying across the screen as he types a quick reply. He shoves the phone back into his pocket.
"What does she want?"
James freezes for a fraction of a second, his posture growing rigid as if he's carefully weighing his next words. "Oh, it's... I shouldn't really..."
"No, no, it's fine," I cut in quickly, waves of exhaustion washing over me. "You don't have to tell me."
"No, it's just..." James sighs, leaning in slightly. "She just texted me about the Calloways."
My hands freeze on the pages of my book. "Oh. Okay."
I interrupt him before he can say another word. I can't even stomach hearing that name anymore. Fortunately, the classroom door swings open and our teacher steps inside, cutting off the conversation before it can get any more awkward.