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I walk my bike through crowds of people, the festival raging, faces painted as skulls, jewels dotting their eyes. I head towards the library.
From out of the car, I grab my paints, ball costume, and a bunch of other supplies.
It’s nine p.m. and I’ve got a lot to do. I climb the fire escape to the rooftop; I wish Dad could be here. On the stairwell wall, the first thing you see as you climb the fire escape, I spray an outline of me and Libby, comic-book style, a close-up of our faces, my lips pressed to hers, our eyes closed.
From the roof I can see the packed Garden Square, the city lights and the beach in the distance. Music from the band vibrates in the air. The stars are out in force. I unroll the blanket from my bag. I unlock the padlocked door to the stairwell, and I’m stoked to see some of my stuff is still there – the fairy lights, a small beat-up table. I wind the fairy lights around the edge of the blanket and set up the table to one side, resting my speaker on it.
I change into my ball costume, cleaned, thankfully, by Miss Reed: the shirt, the waistcoat, the jacket, even the shoes. From the 7-Eleven next door, I’d bought grape juice, plastic wineglasses, and chocolate. Mum would approve. I set the grape juice and glasses out on the table.
I check my phone. No message from Katie to tell me how things are going.
A message from Marv: We’re slammed at the mo, will get there as soon as.
With my bag of sprays, I climb back down the fire escape. On the wall, someone has left a bunch of unfinished noughts and crosses games. I look at the time on my phone: 9.50. It’s a big ask for Libby to come out tonight; an even bigger question is if Katie will be able to get her here.
I stare up at the wall and spray across one of the squares, finishing the game off. She probably can’t make it. What was I thinking? The hype of winning the competition has carried me this far. Doubt sinks in – I mean, her grandmother died, and she’s about to jump on a long-haul flight to the other side of the world. It’s unlikely she’d show, even if she is keen to come, and it’s a legit excuse if she’s not.
If Libby doesn’t show, I won’t know for sure how she feels. If it’s me or she just can’t make it.
I finish two more noughts and crosses games, spraying an X in one and nought in the other, and a line through the row, finishing both. And really, it’s a distraction. At 10.46 I check Facebook and see she’s online; she’s awake, looking at her phone. I told Katie ten-ish, if possible. She’s forty-six minutes late, and there’s no text to say she will or won’t come.
I respray some grids, the black can hissing its last few drops as I force it on the wall.
And then, from behind, “Can I play?”
I drop my spray can; it rolls towards Libby’s feet.
She’s dressed in a gold sequin dress, plunging back and front, and a necklace drops down her chest. Katie managed to get her here in her ball gear – I’m not sure how, but our plan worked.
My chest swells. “You are so beautiful.” The words float out like I’m worried she’ll go before I get a chance to say them. My body tingles; all I can focus on is her, like nothing else exists.
She swishes side to side, and the tassels from the knee down swish with her. Her hair is loose, parted at one side, the light-pink waves hanging over her shoulders.
She scans her eyes over me from top to bottom. “You look handsome.”
I can’t take my eyes off her. Her smile, it glows.
She’s in bare feet with a toe ring, which makes me love her even more.
“My shoes hurt my feet.”
I’m so filled up right now, warm with love, I desperately want to grab her hand, pull her towards me.
“Sorry about your gran. I didn’t think you’d be able to make it.”
“Mum’s finally getting some sleep. Gran died last night. We leave first thing tomorrow to sort the funeral arrangements.” Libby folds her arms; they’re covered in goosebumps.
I take off my jacket and hold it out for her. She comes close, turns around and slips in each arm.
“Why are we here?” She picks up a spray can and sprays a cross inside the last game, puts a line through it.
“You’ll see.”
Marv turns up, carrying a bag of food. He hands it to me. “Thanks, man.”
As I take it, he’s already turning around. “Gotta go, bro; nice to see you, Libby.”
“And you.” She cranes her neck to see where he’s gone, but he’s disappeared.
“Follow me.” I climb the fire escape.
Libby looks around. “Are we allowed up there?”
I pause on the first rung of the ladder. “No.”
She follows me anyway.
At the top, the first thing we see is the wall with us kissing. It’s not immediately obvious it’s us.
She stares at the wall, then takes a closer look. “It looks like yours, but there’s no Xavier sprayed in the corner. Very similar to your style though – crazy, aye.”
I grab the can out of her hand and spray Xavier. I laugh.
She looks down at the bag of spray paint resting by the blanket. I set out the food on the table and she watches me, looking back to the bomb, to the table, the picnic I’m setting up. Either she’s figured it out and isn’t saying anything, or she doesn’t want to be here.
“I’m sorry about your dad.”
We kneel, leaning over the edge, looking at the view.
I pass her my phone. “You choose the music.”
I watch her face turn to a grin. “Did you copy my ball folder?”
“The ones I could remember that were on the list.” I laugh. “All of them are terrible, so they’re easy to remember.”
She laughs. “Really? Well, you’re in for a doozy.” And she hits Play.
A cheesy love ballad plays, and it’s perfect. I open the boxes of food.
“I know you like these, but I didn’t know what kind.” I open the mixed takeaway platters of shaved meat, salads, rice, hummus, pieces of pita bread. Marv’s put in a bag of baklava.
Her eyes bulge, and she immediately digs a fork in. “You’re the best; I’m starving. I’ve barely eaten all day.”
As I pass her a drink, there’s that eye thing, where it’s like we’re magnets, energy gravitating to each other. I grab a blanket from my bag, shake it out, and lay it over our legs. We sit next to each other, eating, laughing, the conversation easy. I’m as close as I can be without touching. As she looks down at the car park, words bubble up – so many things I want to say; that she makes me feel alive, happy.
We finish our food, and her hand rests on her lap. I want to grab it, pull her close.
A car toots in the car park below.
“Hurry up, Libs! It’s past my curfew,” Katie screams out her mum’s car window.
Libby laughs. “Didn’t take long for her to get annoying again.”
I’m assuming things are okay between them; it feels good to be part of that.
“Not sure I’ve forgiven her, but this makes it easier.” She gives me a look and glances down at Katie.
“Would you hurry up already!” Katie yells, beeping the car horn in one long blast.
At the same time, Libby and I laugh and call, “Shut up, Katie!”
“I can’t be grounded,” she shouts. “I’m going to hold the horn down and not let go till you get in the car.” The horn continues its long beep.
“Oh my god, you’re annoying,” Libby yells over the edge.
The horn stops.
She looks at me. “I can’t stay too long. I don’t want Mum to be alone if she wakes upset.”
I’m unsure where the confidence comes from, but I grab her hand.
“Go,” Libby yells. She links her fingers with mine.
I pull her up. For a second, we stare at each other. Then I tow her in, and our bodies press against each other, my arms gliding around her waist. Our bodies fit together perfectly. An instinctive thing takes over. My eyes close and I kiss her, our lips soft together, and she kisses me back. Standing on the roof, the music, the entire sky, and stars out in force watching from above. All the energy powering the universe flows in and around, igniting us with every colour imaginable.