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I was crying against my bed, trying to drown out my parents’ voices. That was when a light knock sounded in my room. I looked up, and Oliver was right there, crouching down outside of the screen doors separating my room from the outside. He mouthed, “Are you okay?”
Without thinking, I walked over to the door and opened it up.
“Hi, I’m Oliver,” he greeted me lightly with an enthusiastic smile. “What’s your name?”
I didn’t like my name, so I ignored his question. “How did you get here?”
He frowned but answered, “I was wandering around, and I didn’t know anyone lived here, and my pops always says I’m a curious cat, so I walked up and saw you crying. I don’t like it when people cry. Makes me want to cry.”
“My parents are fighting again,” I said.
He simply nodded. “My parents used to do that.” He looked around the house for a second. “Do you have a way up to the roof?”
I didn’t really know what to say, but I trusted him and nodded as we both walked around the back to the porch, where there was a small stepladder my dad used. We climbed onto the roof and walked to the center.
Oliver plopped down and patted the spot next to him, and I sat down.
“Do your parents fight often?” he asked.
“Almost every night,” I whispered.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a little gray CD player with matching headphones. The boy inched closer to me. I could feel his breath on my cheek as he reached around my tucked-in body and placed one of the headphones in my right ear. A second later, music came through my ear, and his cheek pressed to mine with the left one placed in his ear.
“Can you still hear them fighting?” I’d never been this close to anyone, but it made me feel safe.
I shook my head.
“Good. Because when you are up here, you’re above them. You’re above all of your problems. Actually, I think I like your roof better than mine. Better view.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
“Well, how about whenever our parents are being bad, we escape up here? Block out the world with me?”
Then, for the first time that night, I smiled a true, toothy smile, and he gave me the most beautiful, sheepish grin.
“By the way, you never told me your name.”
“What do you mean he winked at you?” Mimi squeaked, taking the seat next to me on the couch.
“That’s what you focus on?” Ella huffs out a breath. “You’re just glossing over the fact that he’s the same Oliver she wouldn’t stop talking about.”
“I didn’t talk about him that much.” I narrow my eyes at Ella.
Ella meets my eyes, and I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“It’s like fate,” Mimi says dreamily.
This causes Ella to roll her eyes once again. I swear that’s her favorite move, especially if she doesn’t want to talk.
“Are you meeting him again? He told you he gives surf lessons.” Mimi might be more excited about this than I am.
I want to see Oliver again—I really do—but when I think about facing him and telling him who I am, the image of his disappointment looms in my head. I don’t want that smile or the heat in his eyes to disappear.
Will he regret inviting me over?
I know I don’t need to tell him I’m trans yet. I can wait until I’m ready for that. But I don’t like lying about who I am.
“Are you going to say anything?” Ella reads my mind.
