A BRIDGE

She often finds herself sitting on the roof of her apartment building, staring down onto the street below her at the kids playing. They always ran around in pairs, she had noticed. She can’t remember the last time she paired off with someone.

He lived on the roof.. Well, he lived on a part of the roof. His apartment was two stories, and it was more of a home instead of an apartment but it was in a building and he had no other way to describe it. He always heard the door next door opening and shutting harshly, signalling the roof-dweller’s return. He was never so curious as to see who it was or why they shut the door so damn loud every time they came up.

Usually she was quiet. Usually she kept her sobs to herself, not wanting to disturb anyone from their peaceful and happy days. Usually she didn’t scream so loudly that pigeons flocked away from the trees. But that was usually, and today wasn’t usually.

When he heard a girl in pain, his ears perked up and he tensed. The street he lived on was relatively quiet, aside from his mother yelling at him to clean his already spotless room or do the dishes in the empty sink. Now, he was curious. Carefully, he walked out onto the patio built on the roof. Cries of desperation and sadness filled his ears and he turned to the building on the right, knowing it must be the roof-dweller.

Almost too consumed by her own tears, the girl barely noticed the boy staring at her across the way. But she was always hyperactive, she could always tell when someone was watching her. “S-sorry,” she muttered loud enough for him to hear but still quiet. She shook her head and wiped her tears away with her sleeve, standing with her head down and walking towards the door.

“Don’t slam it,” he said simply. Don’t slam it? The girl was crying for fuck’s sake and all he could say was ‘don’t slam it?’ What was wrong with him? Many things, actually, but he kept them at bay. He watched her with a softness in his eyes as she gently closed the door and presumably returned to her apartment below.

The next day rolled around, and she contemplated returning to the roof. In an act of boldness and bravery (well, it was bold and brave to her), she decided to climb the steps and sit on the roof despite her interaction yesterday. She was in her own world, although very aware of her surroundings. She didn’t slam the door.

He waited for the slam, but it didn’t come that day. He was worried for her, although he didn’t know why he worried so much over a stranger he’d barely spoken to. It was coincidence that he walked out onto his patio just a few minutes after she had gone up to her roof.

She immediately turned her attention to him, eyeing him wearily and waiting for him to tell her to leave. He didn’t say a word, so she spoke up instead. “I’m not leaving today. I’ll be quiet. I won’t disturb you.” His response surprised her.

“Are you okay?”

Was she okay? She thought it was obvious she wasn’t. So obvious, in fact, that no one ever asked her if she was okay because they already knew that she wasn’t. A simple question threw her off the deep end, and all she could do was shake her head.

“Can I help?”

Another question she had never been asked and had no answer for. She sat herself on the roof, turned away from him and shook her head once more. She could still feel his presence behind her, even though the gap between their roofs was sufficient to keep them at a distance.

He whispered an “okay” before sitting down for himself, watching the girl look onto the street below them. He had always heard the kids yelling in joy below, but he never watched them. They were running around in pairs.

She didn’t realise she was speaking before the words tumbled out of her mouth in a slurred speak. “I’m going away for the weekend. My dad is taking me to his beach house.”

“That’s nice.” A simple reply. A friendly reply, he thought.

She nodded. “Thanks.” Then, she stood up and left, slamming the door lightly. She liked the noise it made.

He stayed on the roof longer, coming to an understanding on why she must’ve liked it up here. As it grew darker and the children staggered into their homes, it became peaceful and serene. The stars were glowing and beautiful, something he’d never appreciated as he was always staring at a screen. Eventually, he went back inside. He was reluctant to, but he did and waited until tomorrow for the cycle to repeat.

But it didn’t. She was going away for the weekend; it was what she had told him. A weekend without his new acquaintance. A weekend by himself in his room, staring at a screen for an unhealthy amount of time and falling asleep at 3 in the morning just to repeat himself the next day.

But he didn’t. He didn’t continue his lazy tendencies for that weekend, and instead brought home a few planks of wood. It’d be a nice surprise, he thought. She’d like it.

When she returned Sunday night, she made her way up to the roof-- her hideaway, her sanctuary. Her eyes travelled along the long planks of thick wood leaning against his outside patio door. “What..”

He heard the door slam and practically leaped out of his bed. The boy contained his excitement as he exited into the coolness of the night, watching the girl with a smile on his face. “Hey.”

“Hi?”

He carried each plank of wood, one by one, and stacked them upon each other. He had created a bridge long enough and strong enough for him to walk across, and within minutes he was standing in front of her. “Hey,” he repeated.

She took a step back, confusion laced upon her delicate features. “What are you..” she trailed off, unable to complete her sentence due from the shock and anxiety that ran through her.

“Can I sit with you?” He asked simply, hopeful she’d say yes.

How could she say ‘no’ politely? She could barely even speak, so she just nodded and sat in her usual spot. She noticed the boy following her, placing himself adjacent to her. “Could’ve used the door,” she muttered.

He shook his head and sighed, holding his knees to his chest.

They stared out into the stars together, not saying a word. They stared there all night, sitting as the moonlight washed over them and the stars beamed. They were paired off, just like the kids during the day, they both thought.