Chapter 5: The rooftop vows
1260 Words
AYLA
The sky was bruised with gold and lavender as I stepped onto the rooftop. Our rooftop.
James was already there, hoodie on, legs stretched across the old beanbag we stole from the movie room last year. His phone lit up his face, but he barely looked at it. He looked… somewhere else. Far.
I dropped beside him without a word, pulling my knees into my chest. The cool breeze toyed with the loose strands of my hair, and for a while, we just sat in silence.
“You didn’t reply my text earlier,” he said.
“I was in class.”
“With Caleb?”
I turned my head slowly, giving him a look. “Are you seriously doing this?”
“Nope. Just curious.” He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Not really.
“I thought we said we weren’t going to be weird.”
“I’m not being weird.”
“You’re being so weird.”
Another pause. He scratched the back of his neck, then looked out at the skyline. Lights flickered in buildings across the city, like tiny versions of our lives, each window holding a different story.
I whispered, “Do you think we’ll always be like this?”
He didn’t answer at first.
“Like what?”
“Together. You and me. No matter what happens… or who happens.”
He tilted his head. “Is this the part where you make me promise again that we’ll never fall for each other?”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Exactly.”
He nodded. “Fine. I vow—on this overpriced rooftop—that I will never fall in love with Ayla Leigh Monroe.”
I reached out and placed my pinky finger against his. “And I vow I’ll never fall in love with James Ellison.”
We locked pinkies and sealed it with a bump of our fists. Something we started when we were fourteen. Something childish… and comforting.
And yet, as I pulled my hand back, I felt it. That ache in the air. That lingering what if neither of us would dare to speak.
JAMES
I hated lying. Especially to her.
But I’d take the lie over losing her.
So I smiled through it, made jokes, and threw around fake vows like they meant nothing. But the truth?
I was already gone. Had been for years.
Maybe it was the way she looked at me after a bad day. The way she never hesitated to climb into my bed with cold feet and warm hands. The way she knew my favorite cereal brand, even when I changed it three times in a month.
Or maybe it was just her.
Ayla.
She wasn’t someone you casually liked. She was someone you either forgot or fell hard for. And there was no forgetting her.
I watched her from the corner of my eye as she leaned back on her hands, her hair glowing in the city’s light.
I cleared my throat. “So, is he still texting you?”
She gave me a slow blink. “You are obsessed.”
I shrugged. “Just protective.”
“Protective or possessive?”
Ouch.
“Does it matter?”
Her brows lifted a little, but she looked away. “We’re friends, James. Just friends.”
“I know.”
I know.
I’ve known for years.
She stood and walked to the edge of the rooftop, her silhouette framed by the soft lights of the pool below and the faint stars above. I followed, standing beside her.
“I wish we could freeze this,” she said softly.
“This moment?”
“This version of us.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because this version of us was already slipping through my fingers.
And no matter how many vows we made, some truths lived beneath them.
AYLA
That night, when we walked back downstairs, the house felt too quiet. The kind of quiet where memories echoed.
James threw his hoodie on the long sofa, flopped onto it dramatically, and groaned. “My back hurts from sitting on that beanbag. I’m getting old.”
I laughed. “You’re twenty three.”
“Exactly. Ancient.”
I joined him on the couch, resting my head against his shoulder without thinking. It felt too natural. Too right.
“Do you remember that sleepover?” I asked suddenly. “The one where I cried because someone said I looked like a duck when I smiled?”
He burst out laughing. “How could I forget? I threatened to quack at them every day until graduation.”
“And you did. For weeks.”
“I was a committed friend.”
I looked up at him. His jawline was sharper now. His lashes still unfairly long. His lips—God, those lips—still curved when he was trying not to laugh.
Maybe that’s why I fell for him.
Maybe that’s why I couldn’t.
We stayed there, side by side, no space between us, pretending this was normal. That we hadn’t just lied to each other under the stars.
That we weren’t already breaking the vow.
Caleb
The sunlight was slanting through the library’s tall windows when I spotted her again — Ayla Monroe, the girl I met just a few days ago. She was curled over a thick textbook, eyes scanning the lines as if they were whispering secrets only she could hear.
I hadn’t meant to notice her this often. But some people had gravity. Ayla was one of them.
I approached slowly, unsure whether to interrupt. But before I could even say anything, she looked up and smiled like she already knew I was coming.
“Stalking me now?” she teased.
I laughed. “Totally. I’ve been planning this moment all day.”
She shut her book. “You’re late, then.”
A beat passed between us. She shifted her body, motioning to the empty seat across from her. “Sit, stalker.”
I dropped my bag and joined her. “You always study in here?”
“When I’m trying to run away from everything.” Her fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of her coffee cup.
I wanted to ask — what was she running from? But I wasn’t sure if I’d earned the right.
So I kept it light. “I’m Caleb, by the way. In case I didn’t properly introduce myself.”
She nodded. “I remember. Caleb Winters. Business major. Likes lemon muffins.”
I blinked. “That’s oddly specific.”
“You said it when you were talking to your friend outside the hall.”
“Wait—you were eavesdropping?”
She laughed, a quiet melodic sound. “Maybe.”
God, she was beautiful. Not just in that loud, obvious way most girls tried to be. Ayla had a softness to her. The kind that made you want to sit beside her and never leave. Her skin was honeyed, hair glossy and dark, and when she smiled, it was like the whole room relaxed.
“So… who are you running from?” I dared.
She paused. Her eyes flickered. For a second, I thought she wouldn’t answer.
Then: “Memories. Expectations. A best friend who knows me too well.”
Something sharp flickered behind her gaze, then vanished.
“You’re not dating him, are you?” I asked gently.
“God, no.” She said it too quickly. “He’s just… always been there. That’s all.”
I let it go.
For now.
- Writer
