Page 21 of The Last Love Story

Even though I want to.

Chapter 5

The poker chip dances in between my fingers as the sun sets. From my perch on the roof, I watch the Post Angeles skyline streak with orange and brown.

Flip flip flip flip.

The chip feels heavier, but maybe I’m just imagining it.

I’ve been alive for eighteen years, and I can count all the really interesting things that have happened to me on one hand. Very rarely has life surprised me, and most of those surprises have not been good.

And then, within one twenty-four-hour period, I read my first book, joined a revolution, realized my writing has actually impacted people, kissed the most annoying boy I’ve ever met, and watched my proctor get arrested because of something I did.

My thoughts stop on that memory: Ms. Astor getting pulled out into the hallway, hands cuffed behind her back.

Where is she now? At some refinery, maybe. One of the bad ones, the ones that are built on old oil rigs out off the coast of Canada. And that’s the best-case scenario, really. If they truly want to make an example of her, there are plenty of other ways they can kill her.

Either way, I know it’s unlikely I’ll ever see her again. And that is my fault. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes so hard that colors appear, bright spots of white and purple.

A sound scratches at the edge of the roof, and I jump, lowering my hands.

Someone is coming up.

I shove myself to a crouch, ready to run. I didn’t consider that Ms. Astor could have given me up. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would do that, but then again, I really don’t know her all that well, do I?

This could be it. Hammers could be climbing up here, ready to—

I stop as a familiar face peers over the edge of the roof, eyes wide.

“Nef?” I ask, letting out a huff that’s somewhere between a relieved sigh and a laugh.

She looks around before hoisting herself onto the roof, scrabbling a bit against the rough surface. I jump up to help her. Once she gets her knee on the flat tile, I return, dangling my feet over the edge.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, motioning for her to join me. Technically we have another hour before curfew.But Nef has never visited me before. Why waste your time, when DopaMine unlocks at five?

Nef runs a hand over her curls and squints toward where the last of the sunset paints a rainbow low in the sky. “Wow. It’s prettier up here than down in the valley,” she says with a sort of forced nonchalance that makes me laugh.

“Your first time visiting me and you’re commenting on the view? Want to talk about the weather next?” I tease.

“Do you think Ms. Astor is dead?” she asks bluntly, and I blink several times at the question. I want to tell her no, that’s ridiculous, she’s fine, but... I don’t know.

My hesitation says enough, and she nods as she turns back out to look at the darkening skyline. The fiery reds give way to muted purples, somber blues.

“I know that risk isn’t really my thing. It never has been,” she says, cocking her jaw as she thinks. “I thought the day Uriah was picked up and sent off would be the second-worst day of my life.”

“Second?” I ask.

“I was saving the worst... for me. My eighteenth birthday. It’s in four months.” She picks at a piece of the roof and then looks at me. “But I think I was wrong. I think watching people I love leave is worse. Even if I get to stay. And watching Ms. Astor...”

She can’t finish her sentence, and I reach out and grab her hand, squeezing it.

My heart thunders in my chest. We’ve never talked like this before, Nef and me. It’s always been about the latest episode of our shows or the lunch menu. She’s never really let me in. I’m almost scared to move, like I might accidentally spook her and she’ll come to her senses to realize she’s on my roof, that I can hear everything she’s saying.

“So, anyway. I had those thoughts and was pacing around my room, trying to make them stop, but they wouldn’t. So then I realized I needed to talk to a friend. And you’re that friend.”

“I’m glad you’re here, but you know, you could have just FaceChatted. I’ll always answer.”

Nef smiles as she nods, and then the nod turns into a shake of her head. “It’s more than that. I’ve spent my whole life so afraid of everything, Ripley. So convinced that if I just played by the rules, I’d win. But something about seeing Ms. Astor—the one who taught me those rules—walked out like a criminal today, I don’t know. It made me think.”