The rooftop was your secret escape. Well, not really secret — the door wasn’t even locked — but nobody ever came up here during lunch except maybe to sneak a smoke or cry between classes. For you, it was peace.
You sat on the low concrete ledge, legs crossed carefully, your lunch spread out beside you: a sandwich, a crinkled bag of chips, and a Coke. You ate slowly, trying not to rush, even though you were always a little self-conscious about eating around people.
The wind tugged at your shirt, and you adjusted it over your stomach with a quiet sigh.
Then, behind you — the heavy metal door creaked open.
You froze.
Footsteps.
You glanced over your shoulder and immediately tensed.
Vance Hopper.
He stepped out, squinting against the light. His denim jacket was half-unbuttoned, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
He stopped when he saw you.
“Oh.”
You looked down, already expecting him to turn around or say something smart.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he walked over and dropped his bag onto the ground like he did this every day.
“I won’t bug you,” he muttered, sitting across from you. “Just wanted quiet.”
You nodded slowly, trying to keep eating like it was normal. Like your heart wasn’t suddenly beating faster. You avoided his eyes, focusing on your sandwich, hands curling protectively around it.
After a minute, he glanced at your open lunch.
“Got chips?”
You blinked, surprised. “Uh… yeah.”
He didn’t ask — just reached over and took one, crunching it loudly, legs stretched out in front of him.
You stared at him. “You could’ve asked.”
Vance shrugged. “You didn’t say no.”
You didn’t know what to say to that.
The silence returned. Wind, birds somewhere in the distance, the faint buzz of traffic below.
Then he looked at you again — not mocking, not teasing. Just looking.
“You always eat up here?”
You hesitated. “Sometimes.”
“Why?”
You took a breath, looking at your half-eaten sandwich. “Because the cafeteria sucks.”
He scoffed, nodding like he got it. “Too loud. Too many assholes.”
You looked at him then. “Yeah.”
A few more seconds of quiet passed.
Vance leaned back on his elbows, gaze drifting to the clouds.
“Next time, bring extra chips,” he said.
You almost laughed — almost.
“…Maybe.”
And for once, you didn’t feel like you had to hide your food. Or yourself.