Page 43 of When You're Gone
“Ready?” she asked excitedly as she unclipped her seat belt.
“When you asked if I trusted you, I thought you’d just take me at my word. Not make me drive out into farm country and complete some crazy trust exercise on the roof of a barn.”
“It’ll be worth it,” she promised as she closed the car door with her hip.
“It always is with you.”
Her cheeks flushed in the dark as she reached back for his arm. She grabbed the fabric at the elbow of his jacket, guiding him around the car to the ladder resting against the far side of the outbuilding.
“Are you scared of heights?” she asked as she paused on the first rung. She probably should have asked him that before dragging him out here in the middle of the night to climb up fifteen feet in the dark.
“Uh, I don’t think I am, but if you’re going to make me jump off this thing…”
“What? No! That’s crazy!”
“And this is perfectly sane?” he challenged.
She turned around to meet his gaze. The Perry’s Cattle Farm was part of the original Hampton township, meaning there wasn’t any ambient light for miles. She could just make out his lagoon-blue irises in the dark.
“Just follow me up and keep quiet. We don’t want to wake up the cows.”
“The cows?”he whisper-exclaimed behind her.
She smirked but didn’t bother giving him a real reply. He’d hear them soon enough.
She reached out in the dark, her fingers wrapping around each rail, the coarse texture of the wood grounding her as she climbed. Any other night she might have been concerned about the alcohol in her veins impairing her depth perception, but tonight she just didn’t care. That, or she knew Fielding wouldn’t let her fall.
She used her upper body strength to hoist herself up onto the cold, corrugated metal of the roof. The pull in her shoulders and abs contrasted with the numbness that had made a home inside her chest. The lack of feeling was getting easier to ignore, but when she exerted effort like this, it was impossible to forget about it completely.
Once she had both knees on the solid surface, she crawled away from the ladder, making room for Fielding to join her as she positioned herself in the middle of the roof. She spread her arms wide and pretended to make a snow angel, enjoying the way the unyielding metal pressed into her back. Pain didn’t even register as her exposed wrists and the backs of her hands scraped against the jagged edges. Feeling something was better than feeling nothing at all.
Fielding froze on the second-to-last rung from the top. He looked from side to side, then dropped his head back to stare at the milky sky. A torrent of clouds blocked out most of the stars, but every now and then, they cleared enough to let the gleam of the crescent moon illuminate the sky.
“The view’s even better over here,” she teased, patting the empty space beside her. She had never been up here with anyone but Lia, Cory, Jake, and Rhett. She hadn’t considered that before bringing Fielding out here tonight. But they were here now. She couldn’t overthink it.
The rooftop groaned as he moved into position beside her. He shifted cautiously, but she wasn’t worried—they’d often had five people up here at a time in high school. She knew it would hold.
“You’re good,” she assured him. “Get over here.”
He scooted closer, then lay down flat on his back, mirroring her position but giving her enough space to stay starfished in the middle of the roof.
“Did you bring the weed?”
He procured a joint from his pocket, pinching it between his fingers and holding it up to show off the goods. She watched as he slipped it between his lips and lit it, inhaling deeply and letting the seconds tick by before he blew his smoke to the sky. Eventually, he sat up on his elbows and reached over with one long arm to offer her a hit.
She turned her head and parted her lips, letting him place the joint in her mouth for her. She closed her eyes and turned her head back to the stars, sucking in a shallow inhale as the musky smoke filled her mouth. She exhaled and sighed. “Damn… that’s good.”
He chuckled as he reached over and plucked it from her lips. “Only the best for you, Victoria Thompson.”
They were both quiet for a while. Nothing but the rustle of the wind and the occasional moo punctured the silence of the night. They passed the joint back and forth, peace settling inside her with each hit. After they finished it off, they mocked the cows, giggling every time one of them mooed in reply. Eventually, they were lost in a fit of giggles that had nothing to do with the noises from the farm animals below.
“I would be a lousy cow,” she mused.
“Yeah, well, with an attitude like that, you’d be a lousy cow with a self-esteem problem.”
She cackled at his corny joke, then pressed both her hands over her mouth to stifle the sound. “Shh,” she hissed, scolding him even though she was the loud one. “If the Perrys hear us, they might call the cops. Or worse—Mr. Perry might just grab his shotgun and come take care of us himself.”
“Uh, why don’t you seem more concerned about that?”
