Feuds (15 page)

“Is she still in the hospital, though?” Cole pressed.

“Chloe said she's out, but doesn't really feel like seeing anybody. She did mention that she's probably coming back to the studio next week, so I think it's all fine. I mean, I'm sure it is,” she corrected herself. Cole nodded, but he frowned a little at the same time. He opened his mouth as if about to ask something more, but Vera appeared at Davis's side.

“Hi,” she said. “I'm Vera. We met the other night.” She held out her hand, and Davis braced herself for the questions she was sure would follow. She was half nervous, half glad Vera was the prying type. Before she could say anything, though, Oscar wrapped his arm around Vera's tiny frame, lifting her high in the air. She kicked her legs and threw back her head as she yelped, clearly enjoying being teased.

“I want to get started! Let's do it,” Oscar shouted out, getting the attention of everyone on the BKC2 deck. “We've been waiting around long enough.” He directed a pointed look at Davis.

“I'm only two minutes late!” she protested. She noticed Oscar barely glanced at Cole.

“Right. Not as late as usual,” Oscar said. “But still late.” Davis rolled her eyes. Oscar was absurdly punctual. And since most people were afraid of Oscar, most people showed up on time for things.

“Cheer up, baby,” said Vera, jumping on his back. He wrapped his arms around her legs and shifted her up a little higher in a perfect piggyback position. “We're going ROOFING!” she shouted, raising her fist, and some of the others joined in, cheering along with her. “How about I start?” Vera said, her voice faltering so subtly that Davis was sure she was the only one who noticed. Vera skipped over to her and bent, retying her running shoes. “I'll start the inquisition later,” she said under her breath, so only Davis could hear. Davis laughed, and Vera winked. Then she straightened, readying herself for the first leap.

Davis felt adrenaline course through her; all her senses were alert. She was charged, ready to go. She watched as Vera accepted a little white pill from Sierra, tossing it back with Oscar's flask. All around, her other friends were doing the same. She glanced up at Cole, wondering if he'd want one of the black-market enhancers, but he didn't say anything. Maybe he was too polite to ask—or maybe, like her, he already had a powerful natural high.

The night was cool, crisp; the sun was almost all the way down now, and it left a purple haze with fading hints of red in its wake. From way up here, it was impossible to see the streets beyond the soaring peaks of the buildings. For a moment, it was like none of the tumultuous stuff she'd been dealing with—Caitlyn, the riots, the Olympiads, her father's campaign—existed. It was like it was something awful she'd dreamed up.

“Ready, set…” Oscar nodded to Vera. Then Vera blew a gold whistle that hung around her neck—a birthday gift from Davis the year before—and the first pair of runners started, leaping over the ten-foot gap between the BKC2 and BKC3 towers with ease.

“Hey,” Cole whispered, making Davis jump. Their hands brushed against each other and she felt another bolt of adrenaline—more powerful than the last—travel up her shoulder to her spine. “I didn't realize … I mean.” He stopped and took a breath. “Remember, I've never done this before,” he blurted out. “I didn't realize
this
was roofing.”

“Seriously?” Davis looked at him, eyes wide. “Nobody roofed at your school?” Cole shook his head and Davis laughed. “You're in for an awesome rush. The first time is always the best.” She blushed, realizing she'd just set him up for a lewd joke.

But he didn't seem to notice. He was staring at the gap, which almost all of her friends had already cleared.

“It's easy,” Davis told him, afraid she was insulting him by saying it.
Of course it was easy.
Most guys loved roofing for the chance it gave them to show off: be big, testosterone-laden men, that kind of thing.

Cole sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said. “So what are we waiting for? Let's do it.”

Davis found herself laughing as she ran. She vaulted off the edge of the building, and for one second was suspended in the air, wind rushing in her ears, and the streets like dark canyons far below her. Then she landed neatly on the next building. Cole landed a second after her, breathless.

“See? Isn't it great?” she said. But she didn't wait for him to answer. She took off running again.

Both of them cleared the first three buildings without any trouble, but that was the point; the gaps grew wider and the buildings were staggered in varying heights, so toward the end they'd find themselves jumping higher and farther. Davis relished the challenge. She picked up the pace, eager to catch up to the rest of the group. Cole fell back, several paces behind her.

Davis's body was on fire, and it took a lot of control to slow down to wait for him. She wondered why he was hanging back—even if this was his first time, he couldn't possibly have been intimidated or nervous. He was so strong and fit, she could tell just by looking at him that roofing should come easily to him.

But then another thought crossed her mind. Could he be slowing down because he wanted to get her alone? Maybe he wanted another kiss as much as she did.

Still, she kept running, looking back occasionally to make eye contact with him. If he
was
trying to get her alone, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction just yet. Besides, her nerves were fully aware, her entire body responding to the sensation of her muscle power, the lift and momentum she required to clear one gap after another. She leaped the buildings like she'd leap around the dance floor: gracefully, as though flying. Once you got going, it was like your body didn't even have to work anymore. You just moved with the momentum, like skiing or skydiving, giving yourself over to the velocity. Aside from dance, it was the only time Davis ever felt this way.

On their sixth rooftop, Cole stumbled. The rest of the group was already well ahead of them by then. Davis noticed Cole's mistake even as they leaped; he didn't jump high enough. Davis landed and spun only to see him desperately trying to pull himself up over the ledge of the next building. Then he lost his grip altogether and plummeted.

Davis shrieked.

She ran to the edge of the building, her heart threatening to split her rib cage wide open. She stared down.

But she did not see Cole's body hurtling toward the pavement seventy stories below.

“I'm fine,” Cole said from the fire escape two stories down, where he'd landed. “Totally fine.” Davis breathed a sigh of relief, but her body was still weak from the shock. She swayed a little, taking a step back to catch her balance.

“Are you
trying
to freak me out?” she shouted down at him, trembling from anger and relief.

Cole shook his head. “I'm sorry, I—” he started.

“I'll come down,” she interrupted.

By then, Vera had crossed back to their rooftop. “What's up?” she asked, giving Davis a questioning look.

“You guys go on,” Davis said. Now she felt like an idiot for screaming. “We'll catch up in a minute.”

“Sure you don't mind?” Vera asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I'm fine,” Davis said. Her fear had evaporated. It was obvious—Cole
did
want to get her alone. He had clearly orchestrated the whole thing. “Really.” She shot Vera a look.

“Call me when you get home,” she told her. “I want to hear everything.”

“I wouldn't dream of
not
calling you the second I get back,” Davis said. Vera giggled and blew her a kiss before she dashed off to where Oscar was waiting a couple of buildings ahead.

Davis swung down onto the fire escape and climbed down to where Cole was sitting.

“You weren't even close,” she told him in a teasing voice. She reached for his hand and tugged it, trying to bring him to his feet, but he jerked it away, wincing.

Davis drew back, confused. Was he actually
hurt
? She'd never once seen anyone get hurt roofing. She knew in theory it was dangerous—that's what made it so fun—but even the least athletic Priors she knew could handle the physical demands of roofing. Really little kids did it sometimes. Davis had started when she was twelve.

And yet, here Cole was, refusing to get up. Looking, in fact, like he might be injured.

“Wait,” Cole said, and for the first time, Davis realized he was out of breath, too. “Let's just sit here for a second.”

If this was an act, it was an elaborate one. She had no idea what to think. But Davis sat next to him on the fire escape anyway, staring out at the city below them. It was luminous, its lights creating a starry landscape that stretched for miles.

“It's so beautiful,” she said. “Just like a million stars.”

“The real thing's better,” he told her. “Stars, I mean. You wouldn't believe what the sky looks like from outside the city.” He stopped abruptly, as though he didn't want to say anything more.

“Like in the other places you lived?” Davis prompted. She was desperate to know more about where Cole had been. She had never, not once, been out of Columbus, and had always fantasized about seeing Old New York, now mostly underwater, from above.

Cole hesitated. “Yeah,” he said, but nothing more.

Davis wrapped her arms around her knees and shivered. There was a wind up here, and it was colder than usual.

“The sky makes me feel close to my mom,” she said, almost to herself. “I feel like she's up there somewhere, watching me.” There was a brief silence, and she began to feel silly for saying anything. She'd never expected anyone else to get it.

“What happened to her?” Cole asked softly.

“She died giving birth to me,” Davis told him. “The hospital messed something up. Something simple.”
It was the Imps' fault,
she thought. She remembered hearing her father say that many years later to Terri when he thought Davis wasn't listening.
It was the Imps' fault.
She cleared her throat. “My dad doesn't like to talk about it.”

“I'm so sorry—” Cole said, but she cut him off. It was as if she couldn't stop talking now that the initial words had forced their way out.

“My mom was, like, this perfect ballerina. A better version of me, I guess you could say. She's what I want to be someday. We still have all the old recordings from her competitions … she was the best ballerina in the world, at one point. She was famous. When I was a kid, I'd watch them all the time. I still put them on sometimes … they help me fall asleep. She was so beautiful.” Davis stopped, a little out of breath. It was the most she'd ever said about her mom to anyone, even Vera. “When she got pregnant with me, she was at the height of her career. She could have done anything. My dad never said so, but I'm sure I was a mistake. I wasn't supposed to happen in the first place, and then she died, and she could have been touring the world, doing what she loved best. That's why I dance. I guess I want to make it up to her. I mean, sure, I love to dance, too—I really do. But I wonder sometimes if I would care so much about it if she hadn't died.”

“You would,” Cole said, taking her hand in his. “I can tell by the way you talk about it. You have passion.” The words seemed difficult for him to say. But his hand felt warm and solid in hers. It made her feel like she could say anything.

“When I was little,” Davis started again, “I used to climb out the escape hatch onto the roof of our building. I'd take the elevator to the top floor and access it from there. It was easy, although if my dad had known, he would have killed me.” She let out a laugh. “But he never noticed. Sometimes I'd—I'd shut the floodlight on and off. On and off. Making signs to her. Hoping she would make a sign back. Hoping
anyone
would,” she finished, trying not to let her voice falter, even though his thumb was now tracing semicircles on the inside of her palm. “Sometimes I like to explore the old churches.” It was her deepest secret; she had never told anyone. “I know God isn't real, but…” She paused, trying to find words for what she wanted to express. “When I'm there, I can't help but wonder … I don't know. I don't know how to explain.”

“Try,” Cole said softly.

She sucked in a deep breath. “I just think of all the people who were there before, all the hope and prayers poured into those places. And I feel … safe. But still surrounded by something bigger. And that makes me feel better. If I didn't
know
souls were made up, I … I think I'd believe.” She laughed, blinking back tears. “I know. It's stupid,” she said, sneaking a look at Cole.

“I don't think it's stupid,” he said. She stared at him, waiting for him to crack a smile, but his face remained serious. She broke eye contact then and cleared her throat. “My dad died, too,” he said suddenly. Davis felt herself turning to him again, her eyes meeting his. His were full of pain. “I know what you mean. About looking for someone you've lost. I—I don't like to talk about it.” He cleared his throat. His expression was solemn. “I almost never do. But I look for him in things all the time.” Davis squeezed his hand tight, her heart expanding, reaching out to his.

“Want to see my favorite?” She stood up, and he stood with her, still holding on to her hand. She leaned out over the fire escape, squinting.

“Which is it?” he asked. But he was looking at her, not out toward the roofs at all. She lifted their hands, still clasped together, and pointed out toward the lights in the distance.

“That one's my house,” she said. “See the building with the tower that's lit up red? Now look left. All the way down, toward the street. See the big cross?” He nodded, smiling. “There. That's where I go. Don't tell anyone that, okay?” She shook her head, anxious. “My dad would kill me.”