The Ledge

I walked out onto the roof and pulled out a cigarette. There was someone else out here, leaning on the ledge, looking at the view below. His sandy brown hair, just a little overgrown, blowing in the wind. He turned at the sound of the door slamming behind me and eyed my cigarette. “Could I bum one off you?” he asked, walking towards me.

I didn’t respond as I passed him a cigarette. I lit my own as I watched him pull out his lighter. He looked to be about my age. He had a charming face with a kind smile.

 "I have antisocial personality disorder," I said as I took a drag off my cigarette. I don’t know why I said it. I never told the person who forced me to see a therapist let alone a stranger. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge a reaction.

His lips twitched a little, and he paused his thumb on the trigger of his lighter, not yet pressing it down. "Excuse me?"

I sighed. Flicking the ash off the end of my cigarette. "You might call me a sociopath."

“A what?” He still didn’t light the cigarette. His face was impassive, and now I’m bored.

I rolled my eyes as I walked over to the ledge and leaned my elbows on it, letting the wind blow my hair out of my face. I watched the cars racing down the streets below, and I wondered if anyone noticed us up here. I heard the honking and yelling of angry drivers and knew no one was paying us any mind. Not in New York City. “You know, no remorse, no regard for my safety or others?”

I turned back to him, leaning against the ledge, waiting to see the proper horror that such an admission deserved. It didn’t come. He got a thoughtful look on his face, and then he put his lighter back in his pocket and held his unlit cigarette out to me.

"Change your mind?" 

When he didn’t respond, I said with a chin nod, “Keep it. Save it for next time. . . if there is one.”

I watched the muscles in his jaw clench as he dropped his hand to his side, and I knew I had gotten to him. He asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

I shrugged, hopping up so I was seated on the thin concrete ledge, leaning back, arms stretched overhead. I stretched my legs out as if I was stretching out on a recliner. The only thing between me and my tragic death - my balance.

I kept my eyes locked on his, enjoying the distressed look I saw in his golden-brown eyes. I said, "Never told anyone before. Maybe I'm just bored," I said, leaning forward a bit to take another drag off my cigarette.

I could see the conflict in his eyes. On one hand, I’m a beautiful girl leaning backward over a ledge. Mr. Golden-Boy’s nature says save me. But on the other hand, there’s something about me that’s not quite right, and I’ve already admitted to being a sociopath.

“What about you?” I asked, leaning my elbow on my knee. “Got any interesting secrets you want to share?”

A look passed across his face, something like amusement, but he quickly covered it up with unease so that I wasn’t entirely sure I had seen the look. 

I watched as he glanced over at the door that would lead him back into the building. Then back to me. Then resting back on the door. I hopped down off the ledge in one fluid motion, flicking my cigarette behind me over the side of the building. His eyes snapped back to me as my feet slapped the pavement.

"Don't worry, no one will find us up here. I locked the door on my way up, and I have the only key,” I said, pretending to misinterpret his glances. I smiled as I pulled my house key from my pocket, holding it up as if to show him I did have the key to the door of the roof.

“Why would you do that?”

I shrugged again. “Like my privacy. So no secret then?”

He gave me a look that seemed like a cross between annoyance and amusement. But mostly annoyance. I leaned over the ledge, holding the key over it, my eyes locked on his.

I watched any trace of amusement vanish. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I think you know.” 

He lunged forward and I let go of the key, watched it fall down before quickly turning my attention back to. . . I never learned his name. 

His waist connected with the top of the ledge next to me as his hand caught nothing but air. I grabbed him then, pinning him between me and the ledge, forcing him into a sitting position with his body hanging a little bit over it. He grabbed onto my shoulders, but he didn’t push me off of him.

I hopped up onto his lap, bracing myself with my knees on the concrete on either side of him. Leaning my face closer to his. I forced him to lower his torso farther over the ledge, further off-centering his balance as I dug my leather-clad toes into the side of the ledge to keep us from falling. 

"Are you scared yet?" I breathed with a crazy-eyed smile, one hand still holding his jacket collar, the other pushing my hair behind my ear to stop the wind from blowing it into my face.

“Deceitful, irresponsible, incapable of planning ahead,” he replied with a knowing smile.

“So you do know what it is.” I smiled.

“Oh yes. I know what it is."

“You still didn’t answer me. Are you afraid?” I asked, our noses practically touching as I looked into his eyes. 

"No," he said, and I closed my eyes. I leaned forward, and I was less than a centimeter away from kissing him when suddenly, I was thrown backward. 

My eyes snapped open and widened as I fell backward cracking my head against the concrete roof. My ears rang as I looked up just in time to watch as with a smug smile, he fell backward off the ledge towards the concrete several stories below.