The lights of the street lamps illuminate the school wall. We just have to climb over it and we are inside. I look at Paul, silently.

He whispers. "If you don't want to do it anymore, I understand. No one is forcing you."

The sweat on my hands speaks volumes: I'm stressed and, right now, I want to run away. Why are they shaking? I clench my fists to stop them.

I take a long breath. "No! I'm with you. Let's do it." I wipe the sweat on my pants.

Paul looks calm, clutches his backpack, which he has on his shoulders, and nods at me. "Then let's go." He looks at the wall. "I'll help you climb over. Step on my hands with your foot." He crosses his fingers and creates a step with his palms.
I can do it.

I have more strength with my right leg: I use that. I put the sole of my shoe on Paul's hands: the step seems strong. I lean on his shoulders.

He smiles. "Are you ready?" No, but I nod anyway. "On the count of three, I give you the momentum and you push with your foot on my hands."

"Okay."

"One." He springs on his legs. "Two." I don't know if I can. "Three!" Now I fall.

He pushes me upward with all his strength, and I, with intense effort, manage to extend my leg. I rest my hands and knee on the wall: I can see the school.

"Are you there?" Paul still holds me and pushes with his arms.

I did it. I did it. "Yes, I'm on top." I straddle the wall.
Wow, what a feeling.

"Okay, now I'm going up too."

Paul finds cracks in the wall and manages to pull himself up through them. What athleticism! He's straddling it too: we're very close and the shoes are touching. "It's nice school at night, isn't it?"

I turn around. It is deserted, but the streetlights are lit anyway. The foliage of the oak tree sways in the silence. "Yes, it is beautiful." I am one step away from something I never thought I would do. A chill runs down my spine. Wait a minute: it's high up here. "Now, how do we get down?"

Paul brings both legs over the wall and lowers himself with the strength of his arms. His feet scrape the wall, some bits fall to the ground. He lets go and cushions the jump by crouching on his knees.
What a perfect jump. If I do it, I'll break my legs.

"Now, I've got you."

"Should I jump?"

"No, no. Put both legs over the wall and let yourself fall down by holding on with your hands. Then I'll hold your legs and bring you down."

Okay, this is the hardest part, if I don't break my face now, I can say the mission is 50% complete.

This is where I get knocked out. I carry my legs over the wall and most of my weight is on my arms. Oh, shit.

"Now, lower yourself down."

Easy for him to talk. The shoes on the wall have no real foothold. Paul grabs my heel and makes me feel that there is a hole to put the shoe in. In fact, I have more stability this way.

"Try to get down. I'm down there."

Okay, I try to get down. One. Two. Three.

"Can you catch me?"

"Yes, that's why I'm here!"

I go. I drop down, my foot slips out of the hole and I lose stability. The feeling of emptiness punches me in the stomach. My body slams against the wall, but my arms are still clinging to support my weight. I almost scrape my face!

Paul grips my knees tightly. I am more stable and my weight is not all on my arms.

"Take your hands off!"

"I can't take my hands off." Oh God, I'm stuck. Now, we get caught because of me.

"Yes, you can. I've got you now."

"I fall!"

"I say no! I've got you now."

Okay, I can't stay here. I pull my hands off the wall and Paul holds me. He loosens his grip on my knees and my body slides attached to his. Finally, he tightens his grip again and now my back is snug against his abdomen and his arms wrap around my side. My feet have touched the ground and I lay my shoulder blades on his chest. He continues to hold me firmly, attached to him.

My legs are not broken. "We did it!"

"Yes, we are inside the school." His grip loosens and my back slowly pulls away from his torso.

I turn around and I'm an inch away from his lips. "I told you I would be with you."

His hands are resting on my hips. "I told you I had you by now."

Wow. I would stay like that forever.

"Anyway, we should get going. You know, the Test?"

You're the one who hasn't broken away from me yet. "Okay, then let's go."

Slipping his hands away from my hips, he takes a step back. "There's a half-broken door by the basketball court. We'll go in through there."

"Let's go!"
Not a bad first date.

We walk in silence.

How strange to be in a place where you know you shouldn't be. I feel the feeling that anything could happen at any moment. The place is so quiet now, but the fear makes me imagine that from every corner someone might pop up. This feeling is not pleasant, but I feel a slight vibration all along my body that makes me feel alive.

We arrived at the court and Paul looks at me smiling. "What a sight the basketball court is at night."

Yes, it is beautiful, but I feel eyes on me. How can Paul be so quiet?

He walks onto the court and simulates a shot at the basket.

I smile. "Stop it, come here."

He approaches me. "Are you afraid?"

"Maybe we'd better not waste time and complete the Test."

"You're right." He points with his index finger. "There's the half-broken door."

We make to reach it.

"How do you intend to open it? I think it only opens from the inside."

He slips his backpack off his shoulders, opens it, and hunts out a thin, rectangular piece of plastic. "Simple! We're going to use this!"

"What is it?"

"I took an empty container of bleach and cut it this way."

"What's that for?"

"I was telling you earlier that the door is half broken, because it can't be locked."

"Who told you that?"

"Lucas! When he took the Test he came in through here." He runs his hand through his hair. "He had seen that the janitor was complaining that the lock was broken, so he found this method."

"How does it work?"

He pulls out a flashlight from his backpack. "I'll show you. Meanwhile, you take this." He gives me the flashlight and tightens the backpack on himself again.

He inserts the piece of plastic between the door and the jamb, just above the handle. "See how well this piece of plastic bends? Now, I have to get it up to that little thing that moves when you lower the handle."

"Okay, I got it. Then what?"

The piece of plastic slides down and stops. "Now, I have to give a sharp blow and that little piece goes back in, like we lowered the handle."

"Like when in the movies they open the door with a credit card!"

"Same thing, but for poor people: no credit card." Paul pulls a sharp downward blow and the door opens. "See? It worked."

"Okay, I'll lock the door the next time you're around."

We sneak inside and everything is in half-light. I turn on the flashlight to get a better look.

There is the school trophy case. If we were in a horror movie, this place would be where one of us would be killed.

"Paul, let's not split up!"

"Why should we split up?"

"Stay here next to me."
Indeed, we are not in a horror movie, where the characters split up to look faster for their killer. And to die sooner.

He takes my hand. "Let's go upstairs."

I slip it from his. "My hands are sweaty."

"That's okay." He grabs my hand again.

Okay, too many emotions: the fear of being caught at any moment, the terror of being chased by a killer like a movie, and the joy of being with Paul.
He is holding my hand.

I move the flashlight to see around. Here are the stairs. We climb them.

My legs are shaking, I don't feel my strength. I don't have the courage to turn the corner of the first flight of stairs. The image of a person popping around the corner could materialize at any moment. How can I not think about this?
I close my eyes. It's better now. My legs go up the steps automatically and Paul's hand guides me. Thus, only the fear of falling remains. It's better that way.

I lift my foot, but find no steps. I was about to fall. I open my eyes: there are no more steps. There is one last ramp and we are on the second floor. I resume being carried with my eyes closed.

"Don't worry, we're almost there."

"All right."
Without his hand I would be lost.

The steps should be finished. I open my eyes again: last two.

"Now, you have to hold the flashlight for me while I open the lock, okay?

"Yes."

We walk down the hallway. This place is so peaceful, but it still gives a chill.

"Martha, we have arrived."

I recognize the picture of the flower field I stared at before the principal received me. The Walkman!

"Light up!"

The lock is a plain one, not looking very modern to me.

Paul pulls a paper clip and another bent object out of his pocket. But it's a hairpin! No way.

"Would you really want to open a door like that?"

He inserts the hairpin. "You say it doesn't work?"

"Are you asking me?"

"I'm joking. Of course it works. Or at least I hope."

"At least I hope?"
Oh God, now someone comes.

He also inserts one end of the paper clip. "If I succeed, I win another date with you."

Stupid!

"And if you can't?"

He scratches inside the lock with the paper clip. "If I fail, I'll see you in jail."

A smile escapes me. "Better for you if I see you in the open air."

The hairpin turns. Click.

"It opened!"

Paul looks at me victoriously. "Next time let's go out without stealing, huh?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"We're already at two promises: no more Fight Club and no more stealing."

He raises his hand and puts his hand in the center of his chest. "I swear!"

I nod. I hope so: one more day of this and I'll have a heart attack. Okay, now I have to go in.

"Now it's my turn!" Walkgirl is in action.

"Make it quick, though. I've got your back."

I step inside the office, my flashlight high. My feet feel like boulders that I have to carry painfully. I try not to make a sound, but it looks like I walked in with ski boots on.

Is it bullshit if I take the Walkman? Detention ends tomorrow. What if the principal notices?

No, I have to get something else. On the desk there will be something. The wife's picture: that seems too much. The letter opener? No, no, then if we get caught it looks like we stole a weapon. A pen? No, if I go out with a pen, Paul would be laughed at by everyone.

I open the drawer. My walkman! Do I take it or not? What if tomorrow the principal has the janitor call me? How do I justify the fact that the walkman is gone? Found. I can say that I don't know anything. Why would it be me? I mean, I know the reason, he's the one who doesn't.

"Martha, hurry up!"

Hands grasp the walkman. "Here, got it." I wave it in the air.

"Hurry up. Let's get out of here."

I run toward him, as if I shouldn't have light steps now. Whatever, it's gone now.

We take the stairs and run down them. Why are we making noise now?
The urge to go outside is making us screw up. The flashlight light dances here and there. The hallway with the trophies... We have already arrived at the half-broken door. The journey seemed shorter now.

We go outside and Paul closes the door. "We did it."

"Yes!"

He walks over and hugs me. "We're out."

"Hey, take it easy."
It doesn't, hold me as tight as you can. I hug him too, lay my cheek on his chest and close my eyes. We did it!

Paul presses a kiss on my head. "Come on, I'll show you a place."

What? But we were hugging each other... "Where are you taking me?"

He takes me by the hand. This is crazy!

We turn the corner of the half-broken door and Paul goes behind a bush.

"What are you doing?"

He pulls out a ladder. "Let's climb to the roof."

"You mean that roof that's above the door?"

"Yes." He rests the ladder on the wall. "Ladies first."

Oh God, now that's all we need. I put the Walkman in my pocket and the headphones around my neck. How I have missed you all! I climb up the ladder.

"You've become a climber now!"

I get to the roof: I'm right above the half-broken door. "What are you doing staying there?"

"No, no, I'm going up too."

Like a flash he is already up.

"How many girls have you brought up here?"

"What? This is my second day. You're the first."

"No way."

He runs his hand through his hair. "I swear. Yesterday the basketball came behind the bush and I saw the ladder. This is the first time I've climbed it."

All right, I believe him.

"Let's relax a little here." He lies down with his hands behind the back of his head.

"Lucas! Lucas is waiting for us in the car!"

"He can wait ten minutes."

He's right, let's relax a little. I lie down, too.

"However, I saw you walking up the flights of stairs with your eyes closed."

Yikes. "I was seeing if I could climb all the stairs without seeing." This excuse doesn't hold up.

"I did see. In fact you were falling." He laughs.

I give him a little push. "I wasn't falling." I get close enough that my forearm is next to his shirt.

"Yeah, right."

"That's right." I cross my arms.

"Don't be offensive."

I bring my arms back along my sides.

"Anyway, didn't you take a chance taking the Walkman?"

Maybe I shouldn't have done that. I slip the Walkman out of my pocket. "Do you want to hear a song?"

"Okay. I've never had a Walkman."

I put the headphones to my ears and put on play. No, this won't do. I press the button to send the tape back. "Wait a minute. I'll find it now."

"Of course it's not comfortable."

I give him a little slap on the shoulder.

"Ouch."

"Leave my walkman alone."

"All right, all right. I got it."

I press the play button. Perfect, that's the point I wanted. I take out the headphones and put them on him. I press play.

"What song is that?"

"'I want to tell you' by The Beatles."

"Never heard of it."

"Then listen to it."

I never thought I would be able to get him to hear this song.

'... my head is filled of things to say when you're here. All those words, they seem to slip away when I get near to you...'

He is hearing it, who knows what he will think. Still, it was worth it. All that fear and all that risk brought me here. Above this rooftop. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world right now. You can even see the stars.

Dad, I know you wouldn't agree with the things I did. But today, I felt alive as never before.
Tomorrow, maybe there will be consequences, but right now, I don't want to think about it. I want to enjoy this moment of joy, of serenity, of being carefree...

Tomorrow I will have to come up with something. I know. But in the meantime, I am close to him. And I can say that this is enough for me.

I want to enjoy my walkman, the stars, Paul... and even this hard roof. I can say that Walkgirl has made it. Walkgirl is finally happy.