I shrugged off my army jacket. The wind chilled my bare arms. Holding the jacket by one sleeve, I dangled it off the side of the water tower. I let it fall. I chose not to watch it land.
Theo watched me in mounting disbelief. “You crazy bitch,” he murmured. “I’m obsessed with you.”
I lay back, propping myself on my elbows. The wooden planks were damp and cold against my skin. “Count us down,” I said.
Just when I thought he wouldn’t move toward me, he did. He straddled me with his knees and looked down at me. His eyes, in the light-polluted darkness, looked almost black. His mouth opened slightly, and his breath hitched, as if from a rush of intense emotion. It looked like awe, or gratitude. In the years since then, I’ve wondered if it could have been a kind of love.
“You’re so pretty.” He blurted it out rather suddenly. Then, as if embarrassed, he placed his hands on my shoulders with impersonal briskness. He began to count down.
“Three.”