Dizzy on the Rooftop (Sampson)

I hate nights like this.

After the storm, the earth now bathed anew with the plentiful sheets of summer rain, the air is heavy with humidity. It touches everything, fills every space. Settled beside Sampson in our seemingly bigger bed, I can feel the gloss of sweat collecting on my skin. I'm sweating in the heat of the night, unable to escape the moisture that's so thick in the air. The rain had felt amazing the other day, but now? I almost regret it. The humid fog that followed is suffocating. Inching further away from Sampson, my body turned on my side to make sure I don't touch him, I try my best to sleep. The darkness of our room makes it impossible to truly tell, but I'm pretty sure Sampson has already drifted off. But he's fooled me before; he got really good at pretending to sleep, when in reality he was crying. I don't bother to check as I leave, however. I can only hope he's doing better.

Departing from the room, I grab a pair of shorts and one of my white undershirts. It's hotter than hell, but I still don't have the guts to walk outside in only my boxers. Mother taught me better than that and if she caught me, I'm pretty sure I'd get a beating for it, so I pull on the clothes as I head out the door. Bare feet pressing into the dew-covered grass, the path to my typical spot for nights like these is familiar enough to know in the dark. My eyes haven't entirely adjusted to the dark, but I let my memories of the trail in the daylight guide me there. I feel the earth rising beneath my feet, my calves suddenly strained a little as I begin to ascend the hill.

As I reach the top, I no longer have to see in the dark. My world is suddenly illuminated by the stars. Millions of them litter the night sky, brighter than I've seen them in days. "Why so bright today, hm?" I begin to talk to my dead brother. He has to be somewhere and he wanted to end up in the stars, I'll believe it. "It's been awhile," my hand moves to wipe the sweat from my forehead as I speak, "I'm sure you know everything though, right? You must keep watch. I know it." I allow myself to smile a little. "Right, Benat?" I breathe out the words, biting back the ever-present hope that I might actually get a reply.

"Deval?"
For the briefest moment, I believe it's actually Benat answering. My heart leaps before my mind has time to set it straight with a little bit of logic. It's a girl's voice. It's Asha, not Benat. Flooded with a sick mixture of emotion (disappointment, anger, relief, happiness...), I turn to face the girl I had met not long ago. What is she doing out so late? I feel that familiar anger that comes with being embarrassed because I've been caught red handed in my most vulnerable state. But I know this girl. Sort of. Well enough to believe she won't do me any wrong, but it doesn't mean my beliefs are always right. "What are you doing over here?" I try to keep the bite of anger from showing in my voice, but it's difficult. I'm not the smoothest at controlling my feelings. I am happy to see her, truly. It's just hard to express when I suddenly feel so exposed. Right now, I am a fool who talks to the stars.

I've messed up. From the way her voice deflates like a dying breath of air and how her words are as hesitant as steps in a sleeping house, I can tell that Asha was not expecting my bitter words. She has interrupted me and my brother, but does not know it. “I didn't want to be at home anymore…so I came to where I always do,” she explains why she's visited, why she is not the one who is trespassing. I'm the interloper, the one who has intruded on a territory that does not belong to me. The hill has already been claimed by another. I'd wanted it because it was higher than the rest of District 11, unless I were to scale a tree. Being higher means being closer to the stars, closer to Benat.

Wiping my hands across my face as I let out an exhausted sigh, the feeling of guilt overcomes my anger. She doesn't know why I am so defensive of the hill, nor that I was talking to the stars as if they are my brother. I'm still sweating, more so now from how nervous I suddenly am. Have I damaged one of the easiest friendships I've had since the end of Benat? It's been a nightmare trying to keep/make friends. It'd probably be easier if I stopped trying to pick fights all the time, but again, I'm powerless to the anger I always feel. “Sorry, I...” the apology dies in my throat. If I'm bad at controlling my temper, I'm even worse at apologies.

She sits beside my feet and I sink down without thinking much of it. “Don’t leave yet. I don’t want to be alone,” Asha wants me to stay and I don't know why, “Please.” I've intruded on her hill and treated her like a trespasser in her own haven away from her family. But perhaps she'll still let us share this place away from everything. I look to the stars again. “I didn't mean to be rude,” I begin talking my way to a truce, to better ground to stand on between us, “I just like this place because it has a great view of the stars. Maybe it's the heat getting to me.” The words just keep coming out because I don't know how to explain what the hill means to me. My fingers comb through the cool grass, relieving some of the heat from me. “I'll stay. If you say so, I won't go,” I watch her carefully, trying to understand how this girl could have an entire house full of family and feel so alone.

When she stops me from apologizing, I'm relieved from the impossible task. It sends a wave of gratitude through my body. At least Asha doesn't let me squirm uncomfortably just to earn an apology she truly does deserve. She just seems to understand the effort and hopefully that will suffice as my sincerest way of saying 'sorry'. And just as I'm coming upon the realization that Asha doesn't need words to understand, she reveals that she believes I hold that very same power. Her cheeks flood with a color red that makes even an apple pale in comparison. It makes a smile pull at my lips because at least we are both struggling.

She collapses back on the grass, sight full of the stars. In the blue of her eyes, the galaxy suddenly makes itself at home and I wonder if that makes Benat's stars more beautiful. Their shining forms are so alive in Asha's eyes that I know I'm stuck. She'll look away from the night for a moment and catch me, staring like the fool I am.
"I’d never make you leave," she rolls her head to the side, the stars vanishing as she witnesses me staring. I press my lips together and pull at the grass. The blades of green are cold between my fingers. I think she says I'm funny, but my heart is pulsing in my ears and I'm not sure if I'm listening to my own thoughts or her voice anymore. Why am I so on edge? I don't really have time to scan my brain for answer because Ash suddenly pushes into me with her hand. It's a playful smack, one that makes me remember the many sparring duels I'd had with Benat or Sampson. The gesture is one of friendship, but one that makes Asha's face burst with color again. A firefly flashes right next to her ear and I can see how red her skin is. It makes me wonder if the blush will cover the freckles so prominent on her face, but I can't tell in the darkness.

I'm grinning, trying not to laugh at her embarrassment, when she asks about my love for the stars. The sweat collecting on my skin boils as I look at Asha. "Be good… be brilliant… be… be what they need. ‘Cause they need you… you don’t know… they need you…" Benat's words echo in my mind. They're not the ones that usually come forward, not the ones about stars and death and being something bigger than anything you ever were when you were alive. I'm not sure how to explain my obsession affection for the night sky. Asha probably wants to know why because it is that fascination that has driven me to intrude on her hill. Inhaling a deep breath, I try to find words.

"It's mainly 'cause of Benat," his name feels weird on my tongue because I'm not saying it to Sampson or another family member. I'm attempting to explain this philosophy about my dead brother without seeming crazy. "He thought everything was made of stardust or something," I try to make it sound less serious, but also not degrading to Benat's dying beliefs, "When you die, he thought we all went back to the stars or the moon or... yeah." It's my turn to flush red because I have no idea how it all sounds coming out of my mouth.

The heat is getting to me. I can't stop the sweat from pooling in my palms or the drops that collect around the edge of my hair. It makes me feel like I'm ill, like the time I got the flu when I was younger and had to sweat out my temperature. Benat had first explained to me that it was our body's way of defending itself, that we were getting attacked and that sweating was similar to our body bleeding out the infection. Except, it wasn't blood coating my body, it was always just little droplets of salty water. I feel that way now, like my body is being assaulted by something within and I'm trying to rid myself of it before it becomes dangerous. I'm so screwed, the thought makes me wipe my forehead.

Asha's talking and I try my best to focus on her words. "And I think that his thoughts are brilliant. Where else would we go? I don’t want to think that when we’re gone, we’re gone for good," she sides with Benat, making me wonder if I wasn't his brother, if she'd still say that. There are people like that, those few who lie to your face in order to make you feel better or avoid conflict. 'Sorry to hear about your brother. I was rooting for him,' they'd say and you can just tell by the look in their eyes that they are lying. They'd wanted the girl from our district to come home instead, maybe even wanted the girl from 4 to win because she was pretty and had a kid to go home to. It wasn't even bad that they wanted another to win other than my brother; everyone had their reasons for coming out of that arena. It's the lying that kills me. I press my shirt into my chest and stomach, allowing the cotton to soak up all the moisture.

She scoots closer to me, thoroughly increasing my heartbeat and my feverish sweating. If it wasn't so humid tonight, it'd be completely obvious how nervous I am and how terrifying the whole thing is. "Do you talk to him a lot? He seemed like an amazing…" she pauses for a brief moment, "man. A very amazing man." I smile because Benat was more of a man than I will be for a long time. Two year may not seem like a lot, but I know it will take me longer than that to ever measure up to him.
"I talk to him more than I'd like to admit," my answer is light-hearted, as I'm trying to shake off some of my nerves, "He was an amazing man. Best I've known." I wonder if the people I've 'known' includes myself, but even if it does, Benat still wins.
My hands are trembling, so I bury them into the grass again to make them stop. I wasn't this shaken in the cold of the rain. What's wrong with me now? My eyebrows crease as I think hard about Asha and the fever that's trying to defend me from something.

Swallowing hard, I try to change the subject to something that tells me more about Asha. The topic of her is one I find more and more interesting as time goes by. "What's your family like?" the words come out and I instantly add, "If you don't mind me asking." She seems to get disheartened when we talk about family and it's been pestering me that I don't know why. Is that me being a fool again? Isn't it considered bad conversation when you talk about things that make you sad? Well, it's a little late for that anyway. Yeah, Benat. I move to adjust my weight, as my left foot is falling asleep and I can feel the needles already. It's unintentional, but I end up leaning a little too far towards Asha and our flesh touches. Either my sweat or hers makes it cold. Nervous as I am, I don't pull away. I'm bigger than that.

Sitting beside Asha, with the stars as my ceiling and the warm earth as my floor, I feel empty and full, all at the same time. I'm empty with my fever, hollow with the need to protect myself and the fear to act where I desire. Yet, that same desire burns within me, filling the open space with ashes of my wanting. Wanting. What is it that I want? The girl beside me or just the company of another? I'm so confused about it all and I suddenly wish that Benat would lean down from the stars and whisper the smallest bit of advice right in my ear. He'd know what I want and how I could get it and why I'm too afraid to find out for myself. That's why Sampson loved loves him so. Benat had a way of bringing out the best of everyone, even if it seemed like he brought out the ugly parts of those girls that killed him in the Games. He knew how to guide people towards their dreams, how to get people to realize what they wanted. How? I have no idea. He just always had himself together and that seemed to be contagious enough to reach other people.

"Bet he was better than all 4 of my brothers put together..." Asha says. Is it bad that I'd bet that too? I've never even met her brothers, but I'm almost positive Benat would best them all. It's either because I'm so sure of my older brother's greatness after his death or because I know how upset Asha gets when she thinks about her family. What kind of boys could her brothers be if they upset her so much? "Bet you’ll be a lot like him too," she adds and I smile.
"I can only hope so," my words are truthful, but there's something missing, something I'm hiding. But not too much like him. I don't want the Games. I don't want the death. I'd die happy if I grew up to be anything compared to Benat, but would it also mean dying young? I'll never know if it was his honor in the Games that made him so great it my eyes. I'll never go looking for the answer either, because I'm so afraid of what I might discover.

She grabs my hand. It's a simple affair, one that includes our palms touching and fingers knotting together. The gesture makes my nerves calm slightly, which surprises me. If I had thought about the idea of holding her hand earlier, I'm pretty sure it would have just made me sweat more, but now that it's actually happening, I feel like I can suddenly breathe, like my fever has begun to die in my body. It's such a calming feeling, one that allows me to relax as I listen to her talking about her family. Even so, the feeling doesn't last as she begins to explain more about her family's failing financial security. My newly-found ease with the situation goes as quickly as it came when she asks, "It doesn’t bother you I’m poor does it?…"

Grip tightening gradually around her hand to provide what I wanted to be a reassuring squeeze (it's probably more awkward than reassuring), I can't help but smile. My upturned lips part and I start to laugh as I answer. "Aren't we all poor?" I ask, as if it's common knowledge that no one in District 11 is far enough away from starvation or poverty to be considered "rich". Hell, I can't even think of anyone who would be considered that well off. Just thinking that Asha might be insecure about her family's wealth seems humorous to my ears. "We can be poor together," I snicker, "Besides, I'd rather be counting stars than counting money any day." Settled beneath the night sky and all its eyes, I'm perfectly content beside Asha. I just hope she knows that.

When Asha calls me special, it seems odd to hear. Special was being in the Games and dying with honor. Special was surviving the Games and living with remorse. Special was never being touched by the Reaping and having a normal life. I'm wedged in between those extremes, always stuck in my role as the middle child. When the Reaping took my sibling, it touched my entire family and we lost our normalcy. Benat became special. Benat was always special. I am not. It's like I am on the verge of being special, even if it's a place I never wanted to be. My brother's valiant sacrifice has positioned me there and I'm waiting for the final push that will allow me to fall back into normal or become like my brother. I'm pretty sure that push will come from my next few Reapings. If I become like Benat and go off to war, then I will be special. The Reaping has a way of finding special people. It won't find me if I'm not.

Or am I confusing being special with being important? Is there a difference?

I don't have much time to sort any of it out, as Asha begins talking about hunger and groosling. I've never considered myself materialistic, either. I like having things, items like food and clothes, but not to the point where it would sway my words or actions. What a person has doesn't make them any more valuable than another, or any more likeable for that matter. Sure, it might make life a little easier to have some extra cash, but I never put much faith in the idea that money would ever change my life drastically. There are so many other factors to worry about, so many other things that make life better or worse. I'd never wanted anything that I could buy with money so bad that it had affected my health. Nothing fell in that category, except for my expected desire to just have Benat alive and back home. He's what I want and no amount of money could raise him from the grave. "Money's not all it's cracked up to be," I respond, but I know money is what gets food and that's pretty much as good as people say it is. I just want Asha to know that it's not as important to me as it is to everyone else.

"But I think I’d pick sitting here with you over it any day," she adds and I hope it means she likes being with me and not just that she knows that money doesn't mean everything, because I know she understands that better than anyone. When I think of the size of her family and the miniscule pay each parent must earn, the image of an empty kitchen table comes to mind. How often did she go without food? Did the other kids eat, even when Asha didn't? I'd never have the guts to ask. It's none of my business and girls don't like to be babied, anyhow. Or, at least I think they don't. I'm no expert on girls, if it isn't obvious by how nervous I am just to hold Asha's hand.

The heat doesn't seem nearly as bad, even if I'm still sweating. It has to be more my nerves than the temperature now. "I'm glad to hear that," I lick my lips as I reply, "Coming from you, it means the world." No, it means the world and the stars. I've put my hand in hers, but it feels like I've just placed my heart in her sweating palm. It's crazy, I know, but it feels like I'm waiting for her to crush it. I'm waiting for Ivy Soren to finish me off with a final blow from her flail. I'm waiting, still.

It feels like I've been sitting next to Asha for a lifetime. Surely the night is starting to die by now. I can't help but search the darkness and the stars for traces of any colors that would signal the birth a new morning. How long have we been sitting here? My fingers press further into her flesh, as if the thought of the night ending means they'll never get to tangle with Asha's again. Who knows, maybe that is all this is. A single heart-to-heart that will mean nothing in the morning. It was by chance that we even met up on this little hill in the first place. Our encounter on this starry night is something orchestrated by fate, and fate always has a funny way of playing things out. My entire connection to Asha has been by chance, from colliding with her in the rain to meeting her here. The same factor that says whether or not a coin lands heads or tails is the only thing that keeps me somehow meeting this girl whose hand I'm holding. I'm afraid of what will happen when we suddenly get a streak of landing on tails, our paths suddenly heading in opposite directions, never to cross so luckily like they have recently.

I run my free hand through my hair, making sure it still looks alright, as Asha suddenly speaks up. It's been quiet for awhile, but her voice doesn't surprise me for a moment. While I'm not much for conversation, she fits perfectly for filling in the silence. "Do you bring lots of girls to places like this?" she asks and I can't help but feel something drop in my stomach. Will she even believe me if I tell her the truth? Something tells me she won't believe that I am completely new to this. I'm not one for any of this kind of stuff. My tongue feels dry in my mouth. Do I admit to such an insecurity that I have never even held a girl's hand before this, even with the very real possibility that she won't believe me? I don't even want to answer this question, let alone know how to. I'm a teenage boy. I'm supposed to have all the experience in the world, because that's what we all do with our hormones. We chase girls and kiss them when they are least expecting it and then make a relationship out of it. Yet, I haven't chased or kissed or made anything out of the girls around me. I'm too scared mature for that. I think.

“Cause…I’ve never…This is just…well its really new to me,” her words are so quiet. She's just as insecure about it as I am. Taking a deep breath, I pull our tangled hands to my free one and cover the back of her hand with it. “I've never brought anyone anywhere like this,” I try to explain without sounding too concerned about it, like saying I'm completely new to girls isn't a huge deal. This place is sacred to me, with Benat so close by. I'd never just bring others here. “Besides,” the smile on my face is real again, “If I remember correctly, you showed up by yourself. That's much different than being brought here. That's fate.” I'm still sweating like crazy, my palms moist with fear. It doesn't really bother me, however, even with Asha's hand sandwiched between them. I'm giving her benefit of the doubt that she won't mind.

She has to know this isn't something I do often. “Can this be our hill now...instead of just mine?” Asha asks. It's a serious question. I look back to the sky, as if wondering what Benat thinks of this all. I've always considered it his more than anyone elses, but I know he wouldn't mind sharing, so neither should I. “If that's what you want,” the answer is simple, but my actions that follow are not.

I don't know why, but leaning into her and pressing my lips to hers seems like a good idea.