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Sixteen
Luca senta vague text telling me to meet him at his house after school on Friday, so I changed out of my jeans and cable knit sweater and into legging and the soft, oversized sweater I saved for movie nights and other low-key events.
His was the only car in the driveway, so I let myself in, assuming his parents were out. He didn’t usually have us over when they were both home, which didn’t happen all that often. If his dad was traveling, then his mom was usually on a vacation with her friends or attending an event on their behalf.
“Luca?” I called as I dropped my keys on the kitchen counter. I couldn’t hear movement or voices, so I pulled out my phone and called him.
“You’re here?” He skipped over the normal greetings.
“Yeah, in the kitchen. Where are you?”
“On the roof.” I heard laughing in the background and cringed. What were they up to?
“How do I get there?”
“Through the guest suite upstairs that faces the backyard. We left the doors open.”
He ended the call, and I went back to the foyer to climb the stairs. I hadn’t spent nearly as much time in this house as some of the others, but I knew there were three guest rooms surrounding Luca’s bedroom on the second floor. We never went into any of them, but there was only one that had a balcony that faced the backyard, I knew that from swimming in his pool. I stepped inside the impeccably decorated room of soft gray and white and crossed to the open French doors that led outside.
“Up here!” Gavin called, and I turned to see them both standing on the roof with two crates between them.
“The stairs are over there.” Luca pointed to the end of the balcony where a metal circular staircase led to a flat area of the roof.
“What’s this for?” I asked as I carefully made my way over to them.
Luca shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Something to brag about dinner parties?” Gavin guessed.
“Ah, yes, but did you know the house has a third-floor balcony?” Luca said in a fake haughty voice.
“Blimey! What wealth and culture you must have!” Gavin continued in a similar accent.
I shook my head and glanced at the crates. “What’s all that?”
“Eggs, books, a VCR we found in a storage bin in the garage, some old CDs, a tire . . .” Gavin bent down to rummage around. “A glass bowl, and some other things his mom won’t miss.”
I narrowed my eyes at them, “What are you doing?”
“Throwing them off the roof,” Luca replied blandly like this was a normal occurrence.
“Why?”
Gavin beamed. “Physics.”
“You’re not in physics,” I said to Luca. We had biology together.
“No, but I have an empty house with a third-floor balcony.”
Gavin nodded. “We have a camera on the ground recording the landing and a camera up here to compare how long it takes for each item to drop and what the landing is like.”
“I’m pretty sure this is something we did in elementary school.” I pointed out. I had a vague memory of building something to protect an egg from a drop off the school roof.
“Yeah, but this is much more detailed,” Gavin said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Just let him have it,” Luca said before handing over a crystal pitcher.
“No! You can’t throw that. What if it’s expensive?” I tried to grab for it, but Gavin laughed.
