HAPPY 4TH OF JULY

The Fourth of July noise is still going strong somewhere below. Someone lit sparklers too close to the dorm, and Nicky’s laugh cuts through the night air every so often. The foxes were having a barbecue out back of the dorms. It was loud and drove into the night. But up here, it’s quieter. Just you and Andrew on the roof, sitting side by side with your backs against the worn shingles. The occasional firework splits the sky, its reflection dancing in the windows and catching in the sharp line of Andrew’s jaw.

He always said he hated heights. Even admitted it once. But he also said this was the only place that made him feel something made the world seem small enough to handle. So you both ended up here, legs dangling over the edge, as if daring gravity to do something about it.

Andrew’s cigarette burns low between his fingers, smoke curling in the humid air. He doesn’t look at you; his eyes stay fixed on the horizon, where fireworks are going off in bursts of red, blue, and white. Every now and then, you would see some different colors. Neither of you has spoken for a while. The noise from the party drifts up, muffled, but it feels distant. Up here, it’s just the rush of blood in your ears, the smell of fireworks and summer asphalt, and the sharp quiet that only Andrew seems to know how to keep.

You’re not sure what to say you could joke, ask why this is his spot, or just sit in silence a little longer. Either way, it’s late, the sky’s lit up, and for a minute, the edge of the roof feels safer than anywhere else. You glance over, catch the flicker of firelight in his eyes, and finally break the quiet...