Bitter Fights, Sweet Nights

When I walked into chemistry, I had exactly three goals:

Act completely normal.

Do not look at Jordan Gallagher.

Under no circumstances, remember that I fell asleep on his chest last night and woke up feeling like I belonged there.

Spoiler alert: I failed at all three. Because the second I stepped through the door, he was already there—in my seat. "Move," I said flatly, because I had to say something. And it sure as hell couldn't be hello, beautiful boy who climbed through my window and kissed me until my brain stopped working.

He grinned and scooted over exactly two inches. "Make me." My heart betrayed me by skipping like an actual stone across a lake. I sat next to him anyway.

"People are gonna talk, we don't have a lab today," I muttered under my breath.

He leaned closer. "Let 'em."

"You're being smug."

"I'm being honest."

"You're annoying."

He smirked, whispering, "And you're still glowing, Gates. Should I be worried it's from the Bunsen burner or just... me?"

I jabbed my pencil into his side.

Unfortunately, it didn't do much damage—except make him grin wider.

Mr. Kepler launched into a lecture on ionic bonding, which ironically felt less charged than the air between our shoulders. I pretended to take notes. Jordan pretended not to be watching me do it. And the entire class collectively failed to pretend they weren't suspicious as hell.

By the time lunch rolled around, the whispers were multiplying like freshman rumors during homecoming week.

And then, like a perfectly timed horror movie jump-scare, Serena swept back into the cafeteria with her signature click-click-click heels and lip gloss so shiny it could reflect bad decisions.

She sauntered up to our table, where I was pretending to care about my turkey sandwich, and said, sweet as cyanide, "Oh wow. You guys look... cozy. I guess stitches are the new love language?"

I didn't even blink. "Nope. But apparently, insecurity still is."

Kaylie choked on her soda. Harper gasped. Jordan let out a low, impressed whistle.

She tilted her head, eyes scanning Jordan's bruises like they were some kind of trophy. "Well, well. Didn't think you'd still be standing after yesterday's little tantrum. How's the jaw?"

Jordan didn't even flinch. I didn't give her the satisfaction of reacting either.

Then her gaze flicked to me. "And you." She smirked, the fake sweet kind. "I always knew you were desperate for attention, but going for the wounded puppy act? Bold move."

I set down my fork. Calm. Controlled.

Then I looked her dead in the eye. "I'm not desperate for attention—I just don't beg for it from guys who forget your name the next morning." Jordan blinked, clearly trying not to say damn out loud.

"You walk around here like confidence is a designer label—you wear it loud, but take it off the second someone sees through it. I'm not playing dress-up, Serena. I'm just not scared of you anymore."

Serena's eyes narrowed like she wanted to slap me with her designer purse, but she didn't say anything—because what could she say? She'd been outplayed, and she knew it.

Jordan didn't even look at her. He just leaned toward me and said, "Babe, I don't think you've ever looked hotter."

My jaw dropped. "Jordan."

"What? I'm being supportive."

Serena rolled her eyes and flounced off, her entourage trailing behind like glittery ducklings. I tried to pretend I didn't love every second of that, but Jordan could see it all over my face. He leaned in closer, just enough that only I could hear. "Told you. Let 'em talk."

Kaylie chuckled. "Someone call security. That was lethal." 

~~~~

Friday came around, and by then the buzz in the hallways about us had hushed down. Jordan and I stole glances in between classes, and maybe one secret kiss while skipping a class...

I trudged up stairs tired from the week. While I loved having Jordan, between the gossip and petty comments piled on top of my already busy schedule, it honestly was a bit exhausting. I walked over to my desk and almost missed the tiny folded heart with 'My love' scrawled on it in handwriting I knew all too well. I unfolded it, my stomach already doing stupid little cartwheels.

"Meet me where the stars don't have to compete with streetlights. Tonight, 8 PM. Dress warm." 

I kept rereading it like it was a secret code only I could crack.

Stars, streetlights... rooftop?

I glanced out the window above my desk at the building across the street — the one with the fire escape ladder Jordan and I had used to dare each other to climb when we were younger about a million times.

~~~~

I stood in front of my mirror, holding Jordan's note in one hand and a sweater in the other, feeling more nervous than I had in weeks. Tonight wasn't just any night — it was the night. The night he'd finally planned something just for us. No window climbing, no hallway banter. A real date.

"Okay, Elyse, we need to talk," Kaylie said, stepping into my room with her usual whirlwind energy. Her dark red highlights caught the light as she flopped down on my bed. "This sweater is cute, but you're gonna freeze if it's a rooftop date. You need layers."

Harper appeared behind her, arms loaded with scarves and jackets. "I brought options. You're not going to let him turn this into a cold weather torture session, are you?"

I laughed, letting them pull me into a full-on fashion intervention. Kaylie tossed a soft gray scarf around my neck while Harper fixed a messy bun on top of my head. "There," Harper said, stepping back to admire her work. "You look like you could survive an Arctic expedition — and maybe even have fun."

Kaylie gave me a sly smile. "Also, Jordan's gonna be impressed. He likes practical, remember?"

I smiled, feeling a warm buzz inside. "Thanks, guys. Seriously."

As they left me to finish getting ready, I slipped on the cozy sweater and grabbed my favorite boots. My phone buzzed.

Jordan:

Meet me downstairs in five. Don't be late.

My heart sped up. Five minutes until a date with Jordan Gallagher on a rooftop. Somehow, it felt like the most normal, exciting thing in the world.

~~~~

The elevator dinged open, and I stepped into the cool evening air, the city buzzing faintly beneath my feet. Jordan was already there, leaning casually against the brick wall of the building's rooftop, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

He looked up as I approached, a slow smile spreading across his bruised but beautiful face.

"Hey," he said softly. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," I said, trying to hide how much I was blushing.

He pulled something out of his pocket — a small thermos. "Hot chocolate. Thought we could use something warm."

I took it, fingers brushing his, and smiled. "You really thought of everything." Jordan shrugged, stepping closer. "Only the best for you."

We settled on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling over the side, city lights stretching out like a galaxy beneath us. Twinkling fairy lights hung from the railing, casting a soft glow that made everything feel like a secret world just for us.

For a while, we just sat in comfortable silence, sipping hot chocolate and watching cars move like fireflies far below. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me tightly.

Finally, Jordan broke the quiet. "I've been thinking."

"Oh?" I asked, eyes on the stars.

"About us. About how I've been such a mess, but how being with you makes me want to try." I reached out, tangling my fingers with his. "You don't have to be perfect." He shook his head. "No, but I want to be better. For you." I smiled against his knuckles. "You already are."

He pulled me closer, and under the open sky, with the city and stars as our witness, I realized something:

This was more than just a rooftop date. It was the beginning of something real.

Jordan's hand tightened around mine as a soft breeze swept over us, ruffling my hair and sending a shiver down my spine.

"Cold?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, snuggling closer into his side. "Yeah. But this —" I glanced up at the city lights and then back at him, "— this makes it worth it."

He smiled, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and makes my heart want to jump out of my chest. "Good. Because I'm not done with rooftop dates. Not even close."

I laughed softly, resting my head against his shoulder. "You're full of surprises, Gallagher."

He pressed a quick kiss to my temple. "Only the best ones."

The city sounds faded into a gentle hum, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn't fighting just to survive — I was fighting to keep this, to keep us.

"Promise me something?" I whispered, my voice barely louder than the breeze.

"Anything," he said, turning to look at me.

"Promise me you won't shut me out. No matter what happens — good or bad — you'll let me in. Even when it's hard."

Jordan's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. "I swear. No more walls. You get the real me, all of it."

I smiled against his shoulder, feeling like I'd just been handed the most precious thing in the world.

"Good," I murmured. "Because I want to be the one you come to — not the one you push away."

He kissed the top of my head. "Deal."

I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in ages. The stars blinked above us, and in that moment, everything felt possible. And I knew — no matter what came next — we'd face it together.

Jordan pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. Soft music filled the quiet rooftop—a slow, soulful song I'd never heard before but somehow felt like it was made just for us.

He held out his hand with that crooked grin. "May I have this dance?"

I giggled, and grabbed his hand. "Why, yes." His hand was warm and steady, grounding me.

We swayed together under the stars, the city lights flickering around us. His hands settled lightly on my waist, pulling me a closer, my arms wrapped around his neck, brushing through his hair.

My heart hammered against my ribs like it wanted to break free.

His eyes never left mine, dark and serious now, as if he was searching for the words I couldn't say. 

He glanced down at my lips and then back at my eyes. His lips found mine—soft at first, like a question. I answered without thinking, leaning into him, my fingers curling into deeper into his hair.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, flames sparking behind every touch.

His hands slid from my waist up to cup my face, thumbs brushing over my cheeks as if memorizing every curve.

I melted into him, my breath hitching as the world shrank down to just us and the night air wrapped around our heat.

When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing too hard to speak.

"I meant it," he whispered. "No more walls."

"Me too," I said, my voice trembling but sure.

We stayed tangled together, holding onto that moment like it was the only thing that mattered.

We stayed like that for a while, swaying slowly to the music, the city's hum fading into the background. His hands moved gently from my face down my back, drawing me closer, as if afraid to let me go.

I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear.

"Do you think," I murmured, "this is what normal feels like?"

Jordan smiled softly, his breath warm on my hair. "If it is, then I want to get used to it."

I tilted my head up to meet his gaze. He chuckled and whispered, "You're incredible you know that?" I smiled and brushed his hair back.

He kissed my forehead like a vow, and then pulled me into another kiss—this one slower, deeper, more urgent, like we were trying to memorize each other with every touch.

The night wrapped around us like a secret we were both ready to keep.

Jordan's lips were still brushing mine, breath warm against my cheek when he pulled back just a little, just enough to look at me properly.

"Okay," he said, voice low, a little breathless, "so… now what?"

I blinked up at him. "Now what, what?"

"I mean…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "What happens after this? After tonight? Are we just going to pretend we didn't slow dance on a rooftop under a string of dollar store lights like some kind of indie movie fever dream?"

I smiled, chest tight. "You're the one who put up the lights."

"And you're the one who kissed me back."

We fell quiet again. The city around us was quiet too—just the distant hum of cars, the wind teasing through my hair, the faint echo of music still playing from his phone.

I chewed the inside of my cheek. "I don't know, Jordan. I mean… what are we? Are we just... two people making out on rooftops now?"

He looked at me, that golden-boy seriousness shining through. "It'd be easier if you were just my girlfriend, wouldn't it?"

My heart tripped.

I stared. "Wait—are you asking me?"

"Yeah," he said, stepping in a little closer, his hand finding mine like it always belonged there. "I'm asking. Elyse Lillian Gates, can I be your boyfriend? Officially. No more pretending we don't care. No more weird in-between stuff. Just… you and me. For real."

I blinked. "Wow."

He raised a brow. "Wow yes or wow no?"

"Wow... took you long enough."

He grinned, eyes lighting up. "That a yes, Gates?"

I nodded, trying to bite back a full-blown smile. "It's a yes, Gallagher."

He kissed me again—longer this time, surer. His hands cradled my face like I was something fragile he wasn't ready to let go of, and I kissed him back like I was tired of pretending I didn't want this. Us. All of it.

Eventually, I pulled away with a breathless laugh. "Okay. But if this is gonna be a thing, I swear, no more window entries after midnight. Some of us still need sleep."

He shrugged. "No promises. Your window's kind of my favorite entrance now."

I laughed and he dipped me and kissed me again. He pulled me up and I looked at him suddenly realizing something. "Wait, how'd you know my middle name?"

He grinned devilishly, "Hmm, I don't know Elyse Lillian Gates, how did I figure out your last name?" I laughed and shoved him playfully, "You little stalker." He snickered, "Maybe. Only for you though."

He walked me home after that, fingers laced through mine the whole way.

We didn't talk much—didn't need to. The silence between us wasn't awkward anymore. It was warm. Comfortable.

When we reached the edge of my driveway, we both stopped. The porch light flickered on as if it knew exactly what moment this was.

He looked at me with that boyish, stupidly earnest smile. "So… I guess this is the part where I kiss my girlfriend goodnight?"

I smiled. "I guess it is."

And he did—slow and soft, like the kind of kiss you save for someone who matters. Someone who might just change everything.

I stood there a second longer after he stepped back, just staring at him.

He grinned, backing away. "Good night, Elyse Lillian Gates."

"Good night, Jordan Gallagher."

Yeah—my cheeks hurt from smiling. And yeah—he tripped over the sidewalk a little on the way out, which somehow made it even better.

But most importantly, yeah—I was absolutely, totally, hopelessly his.

And he was mine.