ROOM 7
Chapter Nine: The Almost
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It happened on a Tuesday.
Not a special Tuesday. Not a Tuesday marked by exams or family visits or rooftop confessions. Just a Tuesday. The kind of Tuesday that should have been ordinary. The kind of Tuesday that wasn't.
Jay found herself on the rooftop at midnight.
She didn't plan to be there. She didn't plan anything anymore. Planning required certainty. Certainty required knowing what she wanted. And what she wanted was the one thing she'd spent fifteen years pretending she didn't.
She was sitting at the edge, legs dangling over the side, looking at the city below. Manila was still awake. Lights flickered. Cars moved. Somewhere down there, people were living their lives, making decisions, being brave.
She wasn't brave.
She was sitting on a rooftop at midnight, alone, because she couldn't be in that room. Couldn't be near him. Couldn't hear him breathing across the space between their beds and pretend it didn't sound like home.
The door opened behind her.
She didn't turn around. She knew who it was.
"You shouldn't be up here alone," Keifer said, sitting down beside her.
"I'm fine."
"It's midnight."
"I'm aware."
"It's cold."
"I'm not cold."
"You're shivering."
She was. She hadn't noticed until he said it. Her arms were wrapped around her knees. Her teeth were almost chattering.
He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders.
She should have said no. She should have given it back. She should have told him to leave, to go back inside, to stop being the person who noticed when she was shivering.
She pulled the jacket tighter.
They sat in silence for a long time.
The city hummed below them. The wind was cold. The sky was clear.
"Why are you up here?" he asked.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Me neither."
"You always can't sleep."
"You always can't sleep too."
She almost smiled. Almost. "I guess we're both terrible at sleeping."
"I guess we're both terrible at a lot of things."
Like pretending, she thought. Like lying. Like being in the same room without wanting to be closer.
She didn't say any of that.
She just sat there, in his jacket, trying not to think about how it smelled like him. Like coffee and soap and something she couldn't name. Something that felt like safety.
"Jay."
She closed her eyes. He only said her name like that when no one else was around. When it was just them. When the walls were down and the masks were off and they were just two people who'd been dancing around each other for fifteen years.
"What?" she asked.
"Talk to me."
"About what?"
"Whatever you're thinking about."
"I'm not thinking about anything."
"You're always thinking about something."
"Maybe I'm thinking about how annoying you are."
"You're not."
"How do you know?"
"Because when you're thinking about how annoying I am, you throw things at my head. You're not throwing anything. You're just sitting there. Being quiet. Being sad."
Her throat tightened. "I'm not sad."
"You're something."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"You don't know what I am."
"I know you. I've known you since we were fourteen years old. I know when you're angry and when you're happy and when you're pretending to be something you're not."
She turned to look at him. "What am I pretending to be?"
He looked back. His eyes were soft. Too soft. The kind of soft that made her want to run and stay at the same time.
"You're pretending you don't feel anything," he said. "You've been pretending for fifteen years. And I don't know why. I don't know why you won't just let yourself—"
"Let myself what?"
"Feel something. Anything. Let yourself be scared or happy or sad or—"
"I'm not pretending."
"You're sitting on a rooftop at midnight wearing my jacket because you couldn't sleep in the same room as me. That's not nothing, Jay. That's something."
Her eyes burned. "I don't know what it is."
"That's okay."
"I don't know what any of this is. I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why I can't sleep. I don't know why I keep your bent highlighter on my desk or why I drink the coffee you make me even when it's cold or why I'm sitting here wearing your jacket when I should be inside pretending—"
She stopped.
Her voice cracked.
The tears came without warning.
She didn't sob. She didn't make a sound. She just sat there, staring at the city, while tears slid down her cheeks. Silent. Still. Like she'd been holding them for fifteen years and they'd finally found a way out.
Keifer didn't say anything.
He didn't move.
He just sat beside her, close enough to touch, far enough to give her space. Letting her cry. Letting her be.
She hated him for it. She loved him for it. She didn't know what she felt anymore.
"I'm not pretending," she said finally. Her voice was raw. "I'm not pretending I don't feel things. I feel everything. I feel too much. And I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what to do with you."
"Jay."
"I don't know what to do with the way you look at me. I don't know what to do with the coffee and the book and the way you catch me when I fall. I don't know what to do with the fact that your little brother calls me Ate Jay and your parents ask about my business plans and my parents ask about your grades and everyone acts like we're already—"
She stopped again.
Her hands were shaking.
"Already what?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing."
"Already what, Jay?"
She looked at him. His face was close. When had he moved closer? When had the space between them disappeared?
"Already something," she whispered. "Everyone acts like we're already something. And I don't know if they're right. I don't know if this is something or if it's nothing or if it's everything. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I'm supposed to want."
"What do you want right now?"
"Right now?"
"Right now. In this moment. Forget everyone else. Forget what you're supposed to want. What do you want?"
She looked at his face. His eyes. His lips. The way the moonlight made his skin look soft.
"I want—" She stopped. Swallowed. "I want to stop pretending I don't see you."
His breath caught. "You see me?"
"I see you. I've always seen you. I've been seeing you since I was fourteen years old and I've been running from it ever since."
"Don't run."
"I'm tired of running."
"Then stop."
She looked at him. He looked at her.
The city was still awake. The wind was still cold. The sky was still clear.
And Jay Mariano, who had spent fifteen years pretending she didn't feel anything, let herself feel everything.
She leaned forward.
He leaned forward.
Her eyes closed.
His hand came up to her face.
His palm was warm against her cheek. His fingers were gentle. He tilted her head up, just slightly, just enough.
"Look at me," he said.
Her eyes opened.
He was close. So close. She could see every detail of his face. The flecks of gold in his eyes. The small scar on his eyebrow. The way his lips parted when he looked at her.
"Look at me," he said again. "Stop pretending. Stop running. Just look at me."
She looked.
His thumb traced her cheekbone, wiping away a tear she hadn't realized was still there.
"You're crying," he said.
"I know."
"I don't like it when you cry."
"I don't like it either."
"Then why are you crying?"
"Because I'm scared."
"What are you scared of?"
She closed her eyes. "You."
His hand didn't move. "Me?"
"I'm scared of what you make me feel. I'm scared of how much I want to be near you. I'm scared that if I let myself want this, I'll lose it. I'll lose you. And you're the only thing I've never wanted to lose."
"Jay."
"I know it doesn't make sense. I know I'm being stupid. I know I should just—"
"Jay."
She opened her eyes.
His face was inches from hers. His eyes were bright. His hand was still on her face. His thumb was still tracing her cheekbone.
"You're not going to lose me," he said. "You're never going to lose me. I've been here since we were fourteen. I'm not going anywhere."
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to let go. She wanted to close the space between them and stop pretending and finally, finally—
"You don't know that."
"I know that."
"You can't promise something like that."
"I can promise whatever I want. I'm promising you. I'm not going anywhere."
Her eyes filled with tears again. "Keifer—"
"Jay."
He said her name like it was the only word that mattered.
She leaned forward.
He leaned forward.
Their foreheads touched. Their noses brushed. Their lips were a breath apart.
She could feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it was hers. She couldn't tell anymore.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered.
She shook her head. "I don't want to stop."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want—"
"JAY! ARE YOU UP HERE? YOUR MOM IS CALLING! SHE SAYS IT'S IMPORTANT!"
Percy's voice.
From the door.
From the worst possible moment in the history of moments.
Jay jerked back. Her heart was pounding. Her face was burning. Her hands were shaking.
Keifer's hand fell from her face.
He didn't move away. But he wasn't close anymore. The moment was broken. The spell was gone.
"I'm going to kill him," Jay whispered.
"I'll help."
"He's been doing this since we were kids. Every time. Every single time."
"He's very good at it."
"He's the worst."
"He's the absolute worst."
Percy's voice came again: "JAY? ARE YOU OUT HERE? IT'S COLD! I DON'T WANT TO BE OUT HERE!"
"THEN GO BACK INSIDE!" she shouted.
"ARE YOU OKAY?"
"I'M FINE!"
"YOU SOUND WEIRD!"
"I ALWAYS SOUND WEIRD!"
"YOUR VOICE IS DOING THE THING!"
"WHAT THING?"
"THE THING WHERE YOU'RE PRETENDING YOU'RE NOT FEELING THINGS!"
"I'M NOT PRETENDING!"
"YOUR VOICE IS AN OCTAVE HIGHER!"
"PERCY!"
"OKAY! OKAY! I'M GOING BACK INSIDE! BUT YOUR MOM SAYS TO CALL HER!"
"I'LL CALL HER LATER!"
"SHE SAYS NOW!"
"TELL HER I'M BUSY!"
"BUSY WITH WHAT?"
Jay looked at Keifer.
Keifer looked at Jay.
They were still close. Still sitting beside each other. Still wearing his jacket. Still breathing the same air.
"Tell her I'm busy," Jay said.
"WITH WHAT?"
"With—" She looked at Keifer. "With nothing. I'm busy with nothing."
Percy was quiet for a moment. Then: "NOTHING?"
"Nothing."
"YOU'RE BUSY WITH NOTHING?"
"Yes."
"AT MIDNIGHT?"
"Yes."
"ON THE ROOFTOP?"
"Yes."
"WITH KEIFER?"
"Yes."
"IN HIS JACKET?"
"PERCY!"
"OKAY! OKAY! I'M GOING! BUT MOM SAYS TO CALL HER! AND ALSO TO WEAR A JACKET! IT'S COLD OUTSIDE!"
"THANK YOU, PERCY!"
"YOU'RE WELCOME! ALSO, KEIFER, YOUR MOM SAYS HI! SHE'S IN THE GROUP CHAT!"
The door closed.
The rooftop was quiet again.
Jay stared at the door. "He's going to tell everyone."
"Everyone already knows."
"He's going to tell our parents."
"Our parents already know. They've always known."
She looked at him. "They know?"
"My mom has a folder, Jay. A folder. With photos. And color swatches. She's been planning this since we were fifteen."
"Your mom has a folder?"
"Your mom has a copy. They share it. It's in the cloud."
Jay buried her face in her hands. "I'm going to die."
"You're not going to die."
"I'm going to die of embarrassment."
"You're going to be fine."
"We almost—" She stopped. "We almost—"
"I know."
"If Percy hadn't come up here—"
"I know."
"We were about to—"
"I know."
She looked at him. He was looking at her. The moment was broken. The spell was gone. But something was still there. Something that had always been there.
"We should go inside," she said.
"In a minute."
"It's cold."
"You have my jacket."
"You're cold."
"I'm fine."
She pulled the jacket off her shoulders. She held it out to him. "Take it."
"Keep it."
"I don't need it."
"You're shivering."
"YOU'RE shivering."
"I'm not shivering."
"Your teeth are chattering."
"MY teeth are fine."
"Keifer."
"Jay."
She threw the jacket at his face.
He caught it— of course he caught it— and laughed.
"There," she said. "Now you're not cold."
"I was never cold."
"You were freezing."
"I was comfortable."
"You were lying."
"I was being generous."
"You were being stupid."
"You like it."
"I don't not like it."
He smiled. She smiled. They sat there, on the rooftop, at midnight, wearing the same jacket because neither of them would admit they were cold.
"We almost kissed," he said.
"We almost kissed."
"Twice now. Counting the last time on the rooftop."
"That was different. You were about to fall."
"I wasn't about to fall."
"You were about to fall off the roof."
"I was standing three feet from the edge."
"Three feet is nothing."
"You caught me."
"I caught you."
"You always catch me."
"You always fall."
He laughed. "I fall on purpose."
"What?"
"I fall so you'll catch me. Every time. I've been falling for fifteen years, Jay. Just so you'd catch me."
She stared at him. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"You like it."
"I don't not like it."
He was still looking at her. She was still looking at him. The moment was broken. But something was still there.
"We should go inside," she said again.
"In a minute."
"It's late."
"I know."
"We have class tomorrow."
"I know."
"If we stay out here any longer, Percy's going to come back."
"Percy's always going to come back. That's what Percy does."
"He's going to tell everyone we almost kissed."
"Everyone already knows we almost kissed."
"How?"
"Because we're obvious. We've always been obvious. The only people who didn't know were us."
She looked at him. "We knew."
"We knew."
"We just didn't say it."
"We didn't say it."
She stood up. He stood up. They stood there, on the rooftop, at midnight, wearing the same jacket because she'd given it back and he'd put it on her again when she wasn't looking.
"I'm going inside," she said.
"Okay."
"Are you coming?"
"In a minute."
She walked toward the door. She stopped. She turned around.
He was standing at the edge, looking at the city. The jacket was around his shoulders. The moonlight was on his face. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
"Keifer?"
He turned. "Yeah?"
She walked back. She stood in front of him. She reached up. She touched his face.
His breath caught. "Jay—"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For coming up here. For sitting with me. For letting me cry. For not making me say anything I'm not ready to say."
He covered her hand with his. "You don't have to say anything you're not ready to say."
"I know."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I know."
"I've been here since we were fourteen. I'm going to be here when we're eighty."
"I know."
"So take your time. Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."
She looked at his face. His eyes. His lips. The way he was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world worth seeing.
She wanted to close the space between them. She wanted to stop pretending. She wanted to finally, finally—
But not tonight.
Not yet.
She let go of his face. She stepped back.
"Goodnight, Keifer."
"Goodnight, Jay."
She walked to the door. She opened it. She looked back one more time.
He was still standing there, watching her. The jacket was around his shoulders. The moonlight was on his face. He was still the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
She smiled. "You're still annoying."
"You like it."
"I don't not like it."
She walked inside.
---
Part Two: The Return
The room was dark when she came back.
Everyone was asleep. Or pretending to be asleep. Percy was sprawled on his beanbag, snoring. Yuri was in his bed, headphones on. Lyra was curled up with her back to the room. Alex was facing her, hand stretched out between their beds.
Jay walked to her bed. She lay down. She stared at the ceiling.
She could hear him coming up the stairs. She could hear the door open. She could hear his footsteps across the room.
She didn't look.
She didn't need to.
She knew he was there. She'd always known.
His bed creaked. He lay down. The room was quiet.
"Hey, Mariano."
His voice was soft. Quiet. Just for her.
"Hey, Watson."
"Can't sleep?"
"No."
"Me neither."
Silence.
"We almost kissed," she said.
"We almost kissed."
"Twice now."
"Twice."
"Percy's going to tell everyone."
"Percy's already told everyone. He was texting from the hallway."
"What?"
"Freya showed me. He's in the group chat. He's been updating everyone since he came up to the roof."
Jay grabbed her phone.
The group chat was chaos.
Percy: GUYS
Percy: GUESS WHAT
Percy: I FOUND THEM ON THE ROOFTOP
Percy: THEY WERE WEARING THE SAME JACKET
Yuri: WHAT
Lyra: WHAT
Freya: WHAT
Mica: WHAT
Calix: WHAT
Care: WHAT
Cole: WHAT
David: What
Percy: THEY WERE SITTING TOGETHER
Percy: IN THE DARK
Percy: ON THE ROOFTOP
Percy: WEARING THE SAME JACKET
Yuri: DID THEY KISS
Percy: I DON'T KNOW
Percy: I GOT THERE RIGHT WHEN IT WAS GETTING INTENSE
Percy: JAY YELLED AT ME
Percy: HER VOICE WAS DOING THE THING
Lyra: WHAT THING
Percy: THE THING WHERE SHE'S PRETENDING SHE'S NOT FEELING THINGS
Freya: I need to be on that rooftop
Freya: I need the shot
Mica: Did they actually almost kiss?
Percy: I THINK SO
Percy: THEIR FACES WERE REALLY CLOSE
Percy: KEIFER'S HAND WAS ON HER FACE
Yuri: ON HER FACE
Percy: YES
Percy: AND THEN I YELLED
Percy: AND THEY STOPPED
Yuri: YOU RUINED IT
Percy: I DIDN'T MEAN TO
Percy: MOM SAID TO CALL HER
Percy: IT WAS AN EMERGENCY
Lyra: What was the emergency?
Percy: SHE WANTED TO KNOW IF JAY WAS WEARING A JACKET
Percy: IT'S COLD OUTSIDE
Yuri: I'M GOING TO KILL PERCY
Percy: I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF
Freya: I need to be on that rooftop
Freya: I need the shot
Freya: I need it for the folder
Lyra: THE FOLDER GROWS
Mica: The folder is eternal
David: Did anyone save the jacket?
Percy: I DON'T KNOW
Percy: I WAS TOO BUSY GETTING YELLED AT
Jay put her phone down.
She stared at the ceiling.
Keifer was laughing. Soft. Quiet. The kind of laugh that was just for her.
"Percy texted the group chat," she said.
"I know. Yuri showed me."
"Your mom wanted to know if I was wearing a jacket."
"Your mom wanted to know if I was wearing a jacket too."
"Our moms are the same person."
"They've been the same person since we were fifteen. They just have different names."
Jay laughed. She couldn't help it. The whole thing was ridiculous. The whole thing was absurd. The whole thing was her life.
"I almost kissed you," she said.
"Almost."
"Twice."
"Twice."
"Percy ruined it both times."
"Percy ruins everything."
"He's going to keep ruining it."
"He's going to keep trying."
"Are we ever going to actually kiss?"
Keifer was quiet for a moment. Then: "Yeah. We're going to actually kiss."
"When?"
"I don't know. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe when Percy stops showing up at the worst possible moment."
"And if Percy never stops?"
"Then we'll kiss while he's yelling. We'll kiss while he's texting the group chat. We'll kiss while our moms are calling and Freya's taking photos and the whole world is watching."
She smiled. "That sounds chaotic."
"That sounds like us."
She closed her eyes.
She could hear him breathing. Across the room. Two beds away. But in the darkness, it felt like he was right next to her.
She liked that.
She didn't hate that.
"Keifer?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you came up to the rooftop."
"Me too."
"I'm glad you put your jacket on me."
"Me too."
"I'm glad you held my face."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "I'm glad you let me."
She didn't say anything else.
She didn't need to.
Across the room, she heard him shift in his bed. She heard him settle into the silence. She heard him breathe.
She smiled into her pillow.
They didn't kiss.
But they almost did.
And that was enough.
For now, that was enough.
---
Part Three: The Morning
She woke up to a text from her mother.
Mom: Percy said you were on the rooftop
Mom: With Keifer
Mom: Wearing his jacket
Mom: At midnight
Jay: Good morning to you too.
Mom: Did you kiss?
Jay: No.
Mom: Why not?
Jay: Percy happened.
Mom: I'm going to kill your brother.
Jay: Get in line.
Mom: Did you want to kiss him?
Jay stared at her phone.
She looked across the room. Keifer was awake. He was sitting on his bed, holding two cups of coffee. One for him. One for her. Black, no sugar. The way she liked it.
He caught her looking and smiled.
She looked back at her phone.
Jay: I'm not answering that.
Mom: That's an answer.
Jay: No it's not.
Mom: It's the best answer you've ever given me.
She put her phone down.
She got up.
She walked across the room.
She took the coffee from Keifer's hand.
Their fingers touched. Neither of them pulled away.
"Good morning, Mariano."
"Good morning, Watson."
"You slept?"
"Eventually."
"Me too."
She sat down on his bed.
Everyone in the room pretended to be asleep. But Yuri was peeking. Freya was aiming her camera. Lyra was holding Alex's hand. Percy was pretending to be asleep on his beanbag but he was definitely watching.
She didn't care.
She sat on Keifer's bed. She drank his coffee. She let herself feel something she'd been running from for fifteen years.
She wasn't ready to say it.
She wasn't ready to kiss him.
But she was ready to stop running.
Across the room, Freya's camera clicked.
No one told her to delete it.
---
End of Chapter Nine