‘Roark: You were wrong. This is terrible. It smells too much like flowers. I feel like shit for not feeling like shit.’

Smiling weakly down at my phone, I set my wine glass down on my coffee table to take hold of the device. My heart squeezed for Roark’s predicament, but before I could even unlock my cell, another of his messages came through with a shrill ping.

‘Roark: You were right. Julia said she only invited me to be polite.’

The text sent a small laugh rippling up my lungs and out of my mouth, and I set down my test papers next to me with a sigh. Roark had gotten increasingly more uncomfortable leading up to the funeral, and his texts had become more frequent. Unlocking my phone, I navigated to his chat as I thought of something to reply with.

‘Ally: How long are you-‘ Pursing my lips into a thin line, I backspaced as my ego blocked me from asking Roark when he would be leaving. ‘Ally: Just be adequately melancholy. It’s respectful.’

“No, that sounds like he’s an asshole- or I’m an asshole for giving that kind of advice.” Mumbling to myself, I deleted the second message, too. Under furrowed brows, my eyes narrowed, and I shuffled on my futon. ‘Ally: I have no response to that.’

Pressing send before I could fully comprehend what a crappy message my third try was, I set my phone on my lap and let my head loll back. Rolling my eye in its socket, I glanced at my test papers with a growing sense of disgust in my chest.

After the whole debacle with Cassandra, she and her posse stopped handing in work. I didn’t have to be a genius to realize it was some sort of botched protest, and I snatched the papers more violently than I had to. They crinkled loudly in my quiet apartment, and a deep, unsettled frown drew down my lips.

There were seven girls in total that were part of this misguided strike, and they were all already ruining their C averages. When they start to fail, I’ll just call their parents’, too. Not that it did anything for Cassandra.

The woman I’d talked to acted as if I was in the wrong for wanting her daughter to pass my class. I was the one expecting too much of a young girl that was inarguable set for life. In her eyes, Cassandra could do no wrong- and that was the exact problem. When her mother realized I wasn’t going to change her grade because of her bad penmanship, she went off on me. My ear rang for two hours, and I’d even put my cell phone down to clean the desks; all the while, she never stopped shouting during those dreadfully long 10 minutes.

Ping.

‘Roark: That’s okay. I’m going to slip out in 15 minutes or so. Is it alright if I come by?’

Butterflies fluttered in my belly as I typed my short, one-word response, and my lips twitched upward. Just the idea of Roark was enough to make me forget the Hell that was working at Wells Academy. Pushing myself off the futon, I wandered into the bathroom to check myself over, and my smile only grew firmer.

My hair was everywhere from how vigorously I’d run my fingers through it. Wine-stained my upper lip, and I didn’t do anything to wipe it away. The light gray, too-big-for-me shirt that hung off my shoulders gave me a slimmer look, and I twisted and turned to admire myself.

I’m a damn hot mess. A little ego never hurt.

The thought made me pause, and I braced myself on the vanity to lean in close to the mirror. Staring into my own eyes, I silently wondered if I’d ever preened for Tommy before. Raking through my memories, I narrowed my gaze on my reflection when I couldn’t find a single instance in which he appreciated when I was done up.

I refused to wear makeup, but there were other ways of looking better. Tommy only noticed if he was in the mood, and until our break up, I never realized how terrible that made me feel.

But this was different; Roark was different. I could be wearing an unflattering, rainbow balloon dress and he’d think I was pretty.

That struck a chord deep in me, and I sucked in a sharp breath before shaking my head hard. Releasing my lungful in a gust, I flicked the light off on my way out of the bathroom to take the few feet towards my wine glass. The liquid shrunk the lump that had formed in my throat, and I sat down to pick up my cell phone again.

Browsing through my music, I searched for something preppy and upbeat, and it didn’t take me long to find a good song. Turning the volume all the way up, my fingers tingled from the vibration blasting through the speaker, and I bopped my head with a grin. Ignoring the stack of papers on the other end of the futon, I set my phone face down on the coffee table to close my eyes and sway to the beat.

I couldn’t even blame my behavior on the wine, but I tried to ignore the real cause.

Time seemed to move faster with randomly shuffling songs filling my apartment, and I jumped up from the futon at the knock that sounded on my door. Smiling before I even touched the doorknob, I flung open the barrier to be met with Roark’s casual stance. The sight of him in a full suit knocked the air from my lungs, and he was still and quiet as we both took a moment of appreciation.

Roark moved first, lifting his arm to lean on the door frame, and I gulped noticeably as he loomed over me. His eyes sparkled when I finally looked up, and he smirked at me like he hadn’t just left a place where a dead body was put on for show.

“You should’ve told me you were having a party, Ally. I would’ve brought some cone hats.” Blinking slowly, my eyes widened, and my grin widened to stall as my brain tried to come up with words. Roark simply watched me, waiting so patiently, and I blushed hard when I realized he was still in the hallway.

“That’s okay! Come in- I was just- uh… it doesn’t matter. We can make cone hats? I have all of the stuff.” That’s a terrible idea! Stupid! Idiot! You’re not five!

Oblivious to my harsh, internal scold, Roark shuffled his way into my apartment, and his soft laugh wrapped around me as I shut the door behind him.

“I’d love to, Ally.” Amusement tainted his deep, silky smooth voice, and I squeezed my eyes shut before whirling around. Heading for a kitchenette cabinet, my legs wobbled dangerously, and I worried my face would melt from the heat that scorched my cheeks. “I’m so glad I didn’t have to stay long. Apparently, Luca pushed his last kid out of the house less than two years ago, and he just went off the deep end. Ridiculous purchases, drugs, disappearing for days- weeks- at a time. No one seemed surprised that he died of an overdose. It was so weird… they almost seemed relieved…”

“The only true release drug addicts have is death, Roark. From the moment they get clean to the moment they die, they crave. It’s a never-ending battle, and a lot of the time, the families resign themselves to the fact that it’ll only end one way.” Roark’s confession sobered me up right quick, and I pulled out my arts and crafts supplies with a small sigh. “They probably knew long before he appeared in the hospital.”

“I don’t know… I’ve never met a drug addict- I’ve never been in the same room as a dead person before.” Which means it was probably closed-casket. Nodding in understanding, I closed the cabinet to set my box on the counter. Twisting to watch Roark stare thoughtfully into space on my futon, I nibbled my bottom lip at how hard he seemed to struggle with what he’d experienced. Grabbing my craft box, I wandered over to set it on the edge of the coffee table.

Seating myself next to Roark, my whole body buzzed when he automatically wrapped his arm around me and leaned back to cross one knee over the other.

“… My college roommate leaned on a railing, and it gave way. She fell three stories down onto the quad and imploded, depending on who you talk to. We’d only been roommates for six weeks, and I didn’t feel comfortable going to her wake or funeral. I showed up anyway.” The incident didn’t bother me anymore, and I rested my head on Roark’s shoulder to sigh heavily. “I felt bad- for her lost potential and the way she died- but I didn’t really know her. I couldn’t even recognize her mother.”

“The only person I knew there was William- he was Luca’s best friend and the one that introduced us. He was crying, and all I did was pat him awkwardly on the shoulder.” The tone in Roark’s voice said it all; Death was weird and uncomfortable for acquaintances, and I was inclined to agree. His shoulder relaxed against my cheek, and I took a deep breath before he started to circle my side with his palm over my shirt. In the growing silence, I recounted the only wake and funeral I’d ever been to.

I couldn’t remember that girl’s name anymore, but I had seen her lifeless body before it was sealed away and put in the ground.

“… How was New York?” Changing the subject to something less depressing, I carefully pushed myself off Roark’s shoulder to grab my craft bin. Shuffling beside me, he kept quiet as I searched through the stack of construction paper for a color that appealed to me.

“It wasn’t too bad. There was no real need to go, but I felt like I should anyway. A lot of my smaller companies are based out of there and California, and I wanted to check on them.” Finding a nice, lavender colored piece of paper, I carefully pulled it out of the dwindling sheath and set it next to me. Roark was patient, letting me choose printed scissors from my collection of five before finding a page for himself. Letting the conversation taper off, I searched the other end of the box for patterned tape, and a childish excitement grew in my chest.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. It sounds like we both could use a break…” Filling Roark in on what was happening in my class, I started bending my paper to figure out how best to make my hat. He listened intently, scoffing at parts, and with each word that left my mouth, my chest grew lighter. Tonight was going to be much more fun and relaxing despite how badly the day had been for both of us.