Rooftop Musings

We’re sitting on the roof and it’s windy and I’m cold. The wind isn’t even that strong but the fact that I’m wearing a skimpy see through mesh dress thing, stockings and a beaten up pair of biker boots doesn’t really help the situation. I wish Mick would make some sort of attempt to warm me up, but he doesn’t, he just sits next to me in nothing but jeans (yes, even his feet are bare) with a contemplative look gracing his features. Lately, he’s been giving me this face and I have no idea what the hell it means but I go along with it, because he’s my friend and I love him.

And it’s not the type of love that two friends share, though it did start out that way. I tried really hard not to fall for him, but I found myself at a certain point where I was fighting too hard not to love him, because my mind and body had already fallen, harder than I ever meant to. I couldn’t help it, he was snarky and sassy and full of dimpled grins that stole my heart.

It’s the type of love where I’d do anything for him. If he asked me to jump off this damn roof I probably would. I’m usually the type of girl to give it back to him when he dishes out the sass, but sometimes those dimples just get to me and a minute later I’ve found that I’ve done something for him that I shouldn’t have. Like the time he dared me to play strip poker with him and I said yes because I’m silly and horny and I don’t know. I love Mick and I do all these things for him and I don’t even care because of the amount of love that I feel for that boy. I don’t want to, but I do and it’s a mess I’m not even sure I want to get out of.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, pal?” I nudge Mick’s shoulder gently, so I don’t startle him. We are on a roof, after all, and I think his sisters would kill me if I killed their only brother.

“Stuff,” he says vaguely and I roll my eyes. The boy couldn’t be any less annoying.

“How specific of you,” I note, and out of slight annoyance at his comment, I shake my head and whiplash my hair into his face.

“Hey!” Mick grabs my hair and I squeal, losing my balance for a moment. Mick notices and circles an arm around my waist, pulling me to him safely so I don’t fall.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“Can I ask you something?” Mick asks out of nowhere. I’m surprised. Mick isn’t really one to beat around the bush. I nod and he continues. “How come you’re always doing things for me? Like the other day when I wanted you to help TP Mr. Assface’s (our math teacher that we both despise) house and you were hesitant but you did it anyways or when you helped me with my senior project a month ago or playing strip poker with me just now and then being idiotic by climbing onto this freakin’ roof, what’s going on with you?”

I sigh. “You’re my best friend, Mick. I’d do anything for you.”

Mick frowns, fingering the frayed stitching of his jeans. “Is that all it is, friendship?”

I know what he’s asking and perhaps I’ll tell him one day my true feelings, but I feel like tonight is not the night. I can tell by this unsettling feeling that’s sitting in my stomach, the fact of the matter he is that he only sees me like a friend, or worse, a sister and the thought of ever feeling some sort of romance for me would just be too weird.

“Dude.” I look at him and scrunch my nose in disgust, although I’m not truly disgusted at all. “Me and you? You’re like my brother.”

There’s a small silence before he lets out a sigh and hugs me tighter to him. “Thank God,” he mumbles, his lips muffled against my hair. “I was worried there for a moment.”

I laugh in response, but it’s a forced laugh to cover up the fact that ten minutes ago, my heart was intact but now, it’s completely and irrevocably broken.