Open House by Ruby Lang

Author:Ruby Lang [Lang, Ruby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-08T14:10:50+00:00

* * *

They went up and up the stairs, past the second parlor and dining level, Magda called it, up past the hallway where they peeked briefly at the room with the one bed. It did look inviting, and soft, and layered, even in the brief illumination of the flashlight. But it was much too hot for beds. At least that’s what Ty told himself. They went up into a room piled high with boxes and then they emerged finally out into the night sky.

It hadn’t cooled down very much in the night. Cars drove by occasionally, booming with bass, their headlights cutting through the thorough darkness of the blackout. Choruses of horns trumpeted in the distance, their brassy complaints coming from the larger avenues where traffic was no doubt a mess. Somewhere not that far off, someone had decided it was a good night to play music, and snatches of plaintive singing burnished the night.

Magda was staring up. “People say you can’t see the stars in New York City. Too much light pollution. But on clear nights, I’ve always been able to make them out.”

“Maybe those aren’t stars, maybe they’re planets.”

“Even better,” Magda said. “You can’t live on a star. But you can always hope for a planet.”

Oh.

He really, really liked her, especially now that he could see her soft silhouette out here on this rooftop under a clear sky. He wanted to hug her to him, to feel the length of her body pressed against his, to run his fingers through her curls. But aside from some accidental brushes, they hadn’t touched each other, not since he’d set out to bring her the sleeping bag.

And he shouldn’t. She shouldn’t. She should stay away from him, refuse to talk to him, refuse to kiss him. Because if she did, she might be disappointed in herself.

He didn’t want to be her weakness. He wanted to be a part of her strength.

So, he kept his mouth shut. He helped her carefully spread out the sleeping bag across the rough surface of the roof. And he sat down beside her, and stared up at the planets, his bent knees beside hers, close enough that he could almost feel the warmth coming off of her, far enough that it wasn’t enough.

“I can see why you love this neighborhood,” Magda said.

“It grew on me. I moved here not long after my mom died. I wanted a fresh start and my apartment, the place I live in now, was somewhere that could happen. I remade it and it felt new. There was plastic on the appliances. There were even those foam spacers still gripping the fridge drawers, and tape to keep them from rattling. I remember at my old place, coming home late from the hospital, every night I’d sit down on my couch and drink a beer and stare out the window trying to shake off all the—all the anger and sadness. When I moved, I got rid of the couch. I can’t stand the taste of beer anymore.

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