The Question on the Roof

The kite string snaps with a small, sharp sound. Kira feels the pull in her hand go slack. Above her, the yellow kite wobbles once and drifts away.

"No," she whispers.

Willa sees it from the other end of the court. She drops the ball. The kite sails over the edge of the roof. It crosses the street.

"Stay there!" she shouts. She does not know if she means Kira or the kite.

The basketball court sits on top of an old parking building. A high fence runs around it. Every afternoon, a dozen teenagers come up the stairs to play. They play until the lights in the street come on.

Kira comes too, but she never plays. She sits on a crate by the fence and flies her kite. It is a big yellow kite with a long blue tail. She holds the string with both hands. She watches the kite over the roofs.

Nobody asks her why. Everybody knows her name. Everybody knows she is Willa's neighbor. But when the boys choose sides, nobody says her name. She never asks to join.

For a month, Willa sees this and says nothing. It never seems the right time.

Now the kite is gone, and the right time is here.

Willa runs to the stairs. She takes them two at a time. At the bottom, she turns left and sprints along the street. The kite floats ahead of her, small and bright against the sky. It dips over a row of flat roofs.

"It lands on the shoe shop roof!" shouts a boy from the fence. He climbs up to watch.

Willa does not answer. She knows the shoe shop roof. It is flat and wide. A low wall joins it to the old school. She cuts through a side door. She climbs a metal ladder. She comes out onto the roof, and her lungs burn.

The kite lies on the tar. Its tail lies in the dust. One wing is bent, but it is whole.

Willa picks it up. She hears steps behind her. Kira climbs over the top of the ladder, out of breath.

"You ran," says Kira.

"You looked sad," says Willa.

"I was not sad," says Kira. Then she looks at the kite. "I was a little sad."

Willa holds it out. Kira takes it and runs her thumb along the bent stick. She bends it back with a soft click.

"My brother made it," she says. "He lives far away now. He sends me a new kite every year. This is the one from last year."

"I am sorry," says Willa.

"It is okay. I can fix the string." Kira sits on a low wall in the middle of the roof. Willa sits next to her. Far below, the street is full of cars and people. The sun is low and golden.

Willa watches Kira tie a knot in the string. Her fingers are quick and sure. She makes the knot in three seconds.

"Can I ask you something?" says Willa.

"You just did," says Kira.

"A real question."

Kira shrugs. "Okay."

Willa takes a deep breath. She practices this in her head every night. The words feel heavier now.

"Why do you never play?" she asks.

Kira's hands stop. For a moment, she says nothing. A pigeon walks along the wall and looks at them.

"The boys never choose me," says Kira at last.

"You never ask."

"I know." Kira looks at her shoes. "I am not good. I played once at school. I lost the ball three times. I think they will say no. So I do not ask."

Willa thinks about this. It makes sense, and it makes her a little angry.

"That is a silly plan," she says.

"It is a safe plan."

"It is a lonely plan. You sit by the fence every day. And I never say anything either." Willa pulls her knees up. "For a month, I wanted to ask. I was afraid of your no."

Kira looks at her, surprised. "You were afraid of me?"

"A little," says Willa. "You are very good at looking like you do not need anyone."

Kira laughs. It is a short, quiet laugh, but it is real. The pigeon flies off.

"I am not good at basketball," says Kira. "Really."

"Nobody is good at the start," says Willa. "I could not make a basket for a year. Ask anyone."

"A year?"

"Eleven months. But I counted the days."

They both laugh now. The sun slides lower. Somewhere down the street, a bell rings. The lights come on one by one.

Kira ties the last knot. She holds up the kite, and the string is whole again. She looks at it for a long time.

"I can fly this later," she says. "It will wait."

She stands up. She puts the kite under a stone.

"I will keep it safe," says Willa.

Then Kira holds out a hand to help Willa up.

They climb down the ladder and walk back to the court. The boys stand in the middle with the ball. They look up when the two girls come through the gate.

Willa stops in front of them. She waits for Kira to stand beside her.

"Did you get the kite?" asks one of the boys.

"We got it," says Willa. "Kira wants to play. Who is on my side?"

Nobody speaks. Kira's shoulders go stiff. Then a tall boy shrugs and throws her the ball.

Kira catches it. She looks at it in her hands.

"I am really bad at this," she says.

"So was I," says Willa. "Throw it to me."