Crescendo

slide off the sloped portico, I brought my other leg out. Balancing my weight, I lowered the window back in place. I’d just ducked below the window line when the glass filled with light. The dog’s nails clicked against the glass, and it uttered a round of furious barks. Dropping to my stomach, I squeezed as close to the house as I could and prayed Marcie didn’t open the window and look down.

“What is it?” Marcie’s muffled voice carried through the window-pane. “What’s the matter, Boomer?”

A trickle of sweat fell down my spine. Marcie was going to look down, and she was going to see me. I shut my eyes and tried to forget that her house was filled with people I had to attend school with for the next two years. How was I going to explain snooping in Marcie’s bedroom? How was I going to explain holding her diary? The thought was too humiliating to bear.

“Shut up, Boomer!” Marcie shouted. “Would somebody hold my dog while I open the window? If you don’t hold him, he’s stupid enough to jump out. You—in the hall. Yes, you. Grab my dog’s collar and don’t let go. Just do it.”

Hoping the dog’s barking would mask any sounds I made, I rolled over and planted my back against the shingles. I swallowed the knot of fright in my throat. I had kind of a phobia about heights, and the thought of all that air between me and the ground had sweat leaking from my skin.

Digging my heels into the roof to push my weight as far away from the ledge as possible, I wrestled the walkie-talkie out of my pants. “Vee?” I whispered.

“Where are you?” she said through the music blaring in the background.

“Think you could get rid of the dog any day now?”

“How?”

“Be creative.”

“Like feed it poison?”

I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. “I was thinking more like lock it in a closet.”

“You mean touch it?”

“Vee!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll think of something.”

Thirty seconds ticked by before I heard Vee’s voice float through Marcie’s bedroom window.

“Hey, Marcie?” she called over the barking. “Not to interfere, but the police are at the front door. They said they’re responding to a noise complaint. Do you want me to invite them in?”

“What?” Marcie shrilled directly above me. “I don’t see any police cars.”

“They probably had to park a couple blocks over. Anyway, as I was saying, I noticed illegal substances in the hands of a few guests.”

“So?” she snapped. “It’s a party.”

“Alcohol is illegal under the age of twenty-one.”

“Great!” Marcie shouted. “What am I going to do?” She paused, then raised her voice again. “You probably called them!”

“Who, me?” Vee said. “And lose the free food? No way.”

A moment later, Boomer’s frantic barking faded into the house, and the bedroom light blinked out.

I held perfectly still a moment longer, listening. When I was positive Marcie’s bedroom was empty, I flipped to my stomach and belly-crawled up to the window. The dog was gone, Marcie was gone, and if I could just—

I pressed my palms to the window to force it up, but it didn’t budge. Leveraging my hands lower on the pane, I put all my strength into it. Nothing happened.

Okay, I thought. No big deal. Marcie must have locked the window. All I had to do was hang out here another five hours until the party ended, then get Vee to come back with a ladder.

I heard footsteps on the walk below and craned my neck to see if by some stroke of luck Vee had come to my rescue. To my horror, Patch had his back to me, walking toward the Jeep. He punched a number into his cell and raised it to his ear. Two seconds later, my cell phone sang out in my pocket. Before I could hurl the cell into the bushes at the edge of the property, Patch came to a stop.

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes traveling up. His gaze fell on me, and I thought it would have been better if Boomer had shredded me alive.

“And here I thought they were called Peeping Toms.” I didn’t need to see him to know he wore a smile.

“Stop laughing,” I said, my cheeks hot with humiliation. “Get me down.”

“Jump.”

“What?”

“I’ll catch you.”

“Are you crazy? Go inside and open the window. Or get a ladder.”

“I don’t need a ladder. Jump. I’m not going to drop you.”

“Oh, sure! Like I believe that!”

“You want my help or not?”

“You call this help?” I hissed furiously. “This isn’t help!”

He spun his key chain around his finger, then started to walk away.

“You are such a jerk! Get back here!”

“Jerk?” he repeated. “You’re the one spying in windows.”

“I wasn’t spying. I was—I was—” Think of something!

Patch’s eyes flicked to the window above me, and I watched as understanding dawned on his face. He tilted his head back and gave a bark of laughter. “You were searching Marcie’s bedroom.”

“No.” I rolled my eyes like it was the most absurd suggestion.

“What were you looking for?”

“Nothing.” I yanked Patch’s ball cap out of my back pocket and flung it at him. “And here’s your stupid hat back, by the way!”

“You went in for my hat?”

“A big waste, obviously!”

He fit the hat to his head. “Are you going to jump?”

I took an uneasy look over the edge of the portico, and the ground seemed to drop another twenty feet out of reach. Sidestepping an answer, I asked, “Why did you call?”

“I lost sight of you inside. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He sounded sincere, but he was a smooth liar. “And the cherry Coke?”

“Peace offering. You going to jump or what?”

Seeing no alternative, I scooted cautiously to the edge of the portico. My stomach flipped circles. “If you drop me …,” I warned.

Patch had his arms raised. Squeezing my eyes shut, I slid off the ledge. I felt air break around my body and then I was in Patch’s arms, anchored against him. I stayed there a moment, heart hammering from both the adrenaline of falling and from standing so close to Patch. He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go.

Patch tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “Do you want to go back to the party?” he murmured.

I shook my head no.

“I’ll drive you home.” He used his chin to gesture at the Jeep, because he still hadn’t unfolded his arms from around me.

“I came with Vee,” I said. “I should catch a ride with her.”

“Vee’s not going to pick up Chinese takeout on the way home.”

Chinese takeout. That would involve Patch coming inside the farmhouse to eat. My mom wasn’t home, which meant we would be all alone….

I let my guard slide a little further. Probably we were safe. Probably the archangels were nowhere close. Patch didn’t seem worried, so neither should I. And it was just dinner. I’d had a long, unsatisfying day at school, and I was famished from an hour at the gym. Takeout with Patch sounded perfect. How was a casual dinner together going to hurt? People ate dinner together all the time and never carried it further. “Just dinner,” I said,