“Congratulations,” Christina said. “The medal ceremony will be held…never.”
“Pee ceremony is what I want,” William said. “A ceremony of pee.”
Melissa freed one hand and dropped the bottle to the rooftop. She flung the ball of tape away and started on the other.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said quietly. He seemed to snap back into some momentary window of sobriety.
Melissa was quicker with the second hand. Tape fell away in sticky ribbons. “For what?”
“Being me.”
Melissa wondered how she was supposed to respond to that. “Daniel,” she said. That was all she could come up with.
She found herself holding a fistful of tape from which the empty bottle dangled like some insane medieval weapon. She let it fall to her feet. Daniel and William sprinted to opposite corners of the roof, leaving Melissa alone with Christina.
“Go in the car, you guys!” Christina yelled. “Ugh.” She was half a forty deep herself. Only Melissa’s was untouched—malt liquor was disgusting. It reminded her of the little camp in the woods that she and Daniel had stumbled on last summer. Bottles, tin cans, and soiled clothing strewn around a greasy tarp.
Talk about a mood killer, he’d said.
I think this is the home of an actual killer, she’d replied.
“Isn’t Otto back at the hotel?” Melissa asked.
“Check it out.” Christina walked to the side of the roof that overlooked Fourth Street. Melissa followed and peered down over the edge. The silver car was parked directly beneath them.
“It tracks the GPS in our phones,” Christina said. “Your phones.”
Melissa took a long, hard look at Christina, trying to understand the girl’s impulse to constantly set herself apart like the poster child for alienation. Why not just try to form real connections, even for a few days, to make the road trip more fun for everybody? How hard could that be?
She wondered if Christina was one of her father’s dental patients. It was strange to picture the girl interacting with members of her family.
She watched as Christina began scratching the side of her head, just above her ear, as she stared back at Melissa.
“What?” Melissa said.
“You first.”
Melissa shrugged.
“I was just thinking about college,” Christina said, with an earnestness that took Melissa by surprise. Was Hernandez drunk? Did she have a tolerance? Melissa was sure the girl had never been to an actual party. The thought of her drinking alone in that basement room was beyond depressing. Then she reminded herself that Christina hung out with William nearly every day.
It was easy to forget why Christina was here. She almost seemed like a manifestation, a trick Otto was playing on them.
“You’re going to Buffalo, right?”
“Yeah.” Christina gazed across the city. “I might transfer, though, after a semester or two. We’ll see how it goes.”
She added this so abruptly, Melissa suspected it had just occurred to her, or else she was lying.
“I’m sure it’ll be really fun.”
“It’ll be like living in Fremont Hills, but even colder because of the huge-ass lake.”
“But at least it’s a city. I mean, you can do things there.”
“Go to Bills games. Gain weight.” Christina looked at Melissa. “Die.”
Melissa laughed. “You’re going to college, not heading off to the coal mines. You’ll meet new people, figure out what you want to do…”
She trailed off, worried that she sounded like a patronizing know-it-all, like Emily when she called home from Harvard. But Christina didn’t seem to notice. She was even nodding at Melissa’s words. A little absently, maybe, but it was encouraging. “And you’ll meet guys,” Melissa said.
At this, Christina crossed her arms and turned again to the city.
With a rush of mortification, Melissa wondered if Christina was into guys. She cringed, thinking about how she’d called the girl mama the day of the Derby. She was just trying to be friendly, but what if Christina thought she was a racist homophobe? She tried to come up with something to say that would undo that notion.
“I like your wallet chain.”
“Thanks. You can’t see the stars here. Did you notice that?”
Melissa looked up at the sky. It was true: the light pollution was an incandescent shield.
“One semester in the city and you’ll be lacking the vital star minerals your body needs,” Christina said. “Two semesters, and who knows?”
“At least I won’t be buried under ten feet of lake-effect snow.”
Christina gave her a side-eyed glance. A little smirk played at the edge of her mouth. Melissa thought they might be on the verge of a breakthrough, finally sharing a moment—
“IT SAYS HERE THERE’S SUPPPOSED TO BE A HATCH!”
—and the moment was shattered by Daniel’s voice. They both turned to watch as he stood in the shadow of the forbidding water tower, face bathed in the glow of his phone.
“LIKE AN ACCESS PANEL ON THE TOP PART THAT LOOKS LIKE RAIDEN’S HAT!”
Melissa’s breath caught in her throat.
William was climbing up the side of the tower on a rickety-looking ladder, an apparition silhouetted against the night city like a superhero in a vivid comic panel.
Except he wasn’t a superhero. He was a shitfaced moron.
Christina took off across the roof. “William, what the hell are you doing?!”
Melissa followed. “Daniel! Get him down from there!” She was close enough to see her boyfriend turn and give her a theatrical shrug, the universal gesture for what do you want me to do about it?
“Found it!” William yelled triumphantly. He was perched at the top of the ladder, gripping the final rung with one hand. A dark square cutout flipped up as he opened the access panel and let it fall against the tower.
Melissa reached Daniel’s side, and her feet nudged a pile of clothes: the jeans she’d picked out in Plattsburgh, along with William’s shoes and shirt.
“He’s naked?” She gripped Daniel’s arm. She hoped she was getting through to his inebriated ass.
“Nah, he’s got his boxers on,” Daniel said.
Christina cupped her hands around her mouth and called up from the bottom of the ladder. “William, this is incredibly stupid. Please come down.”
William fell out of view. There was a muffled
