Rain (2 page)

I heard him say, “See ya,” as I exited the school.

I stepped out of the building and instantly felt better and could breathe more easily not being trapped in there. I felt the coolness of a soft, steady breeze as it blew across my face, and I could hear birds chirping in the distance. The weather was the complete opposite of last night. The sun was beaming down on me, and I could feel the warmth penetrating my skin. Only a few clouds graced the light blue sky, giving me a glimpse of serenity.

My mom had dropped me off, so I walked the mile and a half home. I was officially skipping school since I hadn’t been dismissed. I could have called my mom and had her dismiss me and pick me back up, but then she would probably want to talk about it.

I walked down my street. Most of the houses looked similar; it was a boring, uniform neighborhood. The houses were nice but not like how houses used to be. They used to all be different with their own characteristics. Uniqueness had been destroyed in houses today, just like it had been destroyed among people.

I sat on the sidewalk across from my house, not wanting to go inside. My mom would usually be at work now, but I had a feeling she’d called out today. I didn’t have anywhere else I wanted to go; I just wanted to sit. It was a nice day; and it felt good to just be outside, not having to do anything. I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting there staring at my plain white house before I felt someone come up behind me and just stand there. I twisted my body around and squinted up at him while shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand.

“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice filled with annoyance. I took in his thin frame. He was tall and had messy brown hair. His brown eyes were zeroed in on me, and I couldn’t make out his expression. He was in all black and had a skateboarder look to him.

“You tell me; you're the one sitting in front of my house,” his smooth voice retorted. He stood confidently and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Actually, I’m sitting on a public sidewalk, which happens to be in front of your house,” I snapped back, still watching him while wondering how I had not seen him before if he lived across the street.

“True…” He dragged out the word as he arched his eyebrow. The wind blew, and I smelled his cologne; it wasn't Axe, which was what most guys wore. It smelled really nice and had an earthy quality to it. The scent was like being outside after it rained.

“So you can go away now,” I said curtly as I turned back around.

“Geez, who’s dying? You’re a ray of sunshine,” he said sarcastically. I flinched at his choice of words.

“I am,” I barely whispered without thinking. I hadn’t expected him to be able to hear it. I was staring at the ground, and he rushed in front of me. I could now see the bottom of his black jeans. He knelt down in front of me, trying to see my face.

“Crap,” he cursed. “Are you really?” he asked, unsure. I peeked up at him without moving my head. His face had paled, and his forehead was scrunched together. He had never expected what he had said to be so true.

I don’t know why, but I told this stranger whose name I didn’t even know the truth. “Yes,” I answered quietly, looking him in the eyes.

“Wow.” He exhaled loudly. The shock was clear across his face. “I’m so sorry I said that,” he apologized, and I could hear the sincerity thick in his voice.

“Whatever.” I brushed it off. “Most people don’t think about what they say. It’s like when people make those
your mom
jokes without thinking about the possibility that that person might not have a mom.”

I watched him process what I’d just said; he looked a little surprised by my response to his apology. I think most people just thought I was a clueless blonde because that was the stereotype; and when I didn’t act like an airhead, people were surprised. Those reactions were great for my self-esteem; thank you, stereotypes.

“I’ll try to think about that next time.” His voice cut through my thoughts.

“Mmhmm, sure.”

His voice rose. “I will.”

“People don’t change,” I argued.

“Maybe.” His voice was soft again. “But I don’t make it a habit to hurt people with what I say unless the person deserves it.”

“We’ll see.” A small smile crept onto my face. He stood up abruptly. I thought he was going to walk away, but he came and sat next to me on the sidewalk instead. I turned toward him and looked at him curiously.

“I’m Kyle,” he told me while a sly smile slid onto his face.

“Taylor.”

“May I ask why you are sitting in front of my house instead of yours?” he asked, nodding toward my house.

I held my breath for a moment, surprised he knew that I lived across the street. Letting out the breath, I responded, “Skipped school. Didn’t want to go home.”  

“So you sit right across from your house?” He looked at me, confused.

“I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“You don’t look like you’re dying,” he spoke softly, and his face sobered.

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“That’s true. Can I ask…” He paused. “What is wrong with you?” He finished carefully.

I bit my lip. I hadn’t said it out loud yet, but it felt like it would be easier telling someone I didn’t know. Like it wasn’t a big deal, no pressure. I had no ties to this person. I could tell him, and he would go on with life just the same.

“I have leukemia,” I choked out. A confused expression crossed his face. “It’s a type of cancer,” I explained. I saw the recognition in his eyes at the word cancer.

“There is a treatment, right?”

“Yeah. Chemotherapy, a fantastic poison that will make my hair fall out. I’m not even allowed to dye my hair, and now I’m not going to have any.” I met his eyes dead-on.

“Why would you want to dye your hair?” he asked. I was surprised that that was the question he’d chosen to ask.

“I’m sick of people thinking I’m stupid because I’m naturally blond. I figure if I dyed my hair a different color like brown or something, then I wouldn’t be instantly judged by my hair color. Unfortunately, my parents don’t agree and won’t let me.”

“Wow, that’s harsh. I wouldn’t think someone is stupid because of their hair color.”

I arched my eyebrow at him while I responded, “Your expression earlier said otherwise.”

“What?” I could hear the surprise in his voice at my accusation.

“When I said the thing about the
your mom
jokes,” I reminded him.

“I was surprised by your statement because most people don’t consider those things—especially when they don’t pertain to themselves—but I wasn’t surprised because I expected you to be a dumb blonde.” His voice rang with sincerity. I looked for an inkling of amusement or a hint of a lie, but his face was serious. He continued to look me directly in my eyes.

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Good.” The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile. I wasn’t sure why this guy who didn’t know me cared that I believed him. I didn’t say anything more, and we both sat quietly. It felt good talking to him. When I’d told him that I had leukemia, it felt like some of the darkness had lifted and some of the sunlight beaming down on us had made its way into me.

“I saw you.” The suddenness of Kyle’s voice startled me. I looked at him with a confused expression on my face. “Last night. You were spinning around in the rain.”

I instantly felt heat rush to my face, remembering the light I had seen before I had gone inside last night. I looked down self-consciously.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I just thought you looked free. Like nothing in the world mattered.”

“I’m not sure why I did it. I definitely wouldn’t have if I’d known people were watching,” I said, still not looking at him.

“It’s not a bad thing, Taylor. I was surprised when I saw you sad and angry today though. I thought maybe it was boyfriend trouble, but boy was I wrong.”

“If only. Nope, everything is good on the boyfriend front; although I would prefer that over the truth.” I frowned. Thinking about Austin made me feel guilty for telling Kyle what was going on when I wasn’t ready to tell him or anyone else I knew.

“What?” he asked.

“I haven’t told him yet—or anyone else, really,” I confided.

“Are you afraid of how he will react?”

“No. I just haven’t been ready to talk about it.”

“You told me,” he stated. I looked up at him then. I realized that he was partly right. I was afraid to tell people because of how they would react. I wasn’t ready for more people to be sad for me or hurt because they care about me. Telling Kyle also meant that I did want to talk about it but hadn’t wanted to admit that to myself.

“I guess…” I started. “I guess it was easier telling someone I didn’t know.”

“I get it,” he said with an understanding voice. “I worked at a grocery store, and I would ask, ‘How are you?’ because that is what you are supposed to do; and the normal interaction would be, ‘Good, you?’ And I would say, ‘Good,’ and then that would be it. I had some customers take it a little too literally and go into their life story. Like one woman went on to tell me that her husband cheated on her and she is pregnant and her life is ruined and men suck. I guess it was easy for them to vent to me because they would probably never see me again.” I couldn’t hold back my laughter at his story. I wasn’t sure why it was so funny to me, but it was.

“Did she realize the irony in her statement?” I asked, laughing. “Saying men suck while speaking to a man.” He smiled back at me, seeming to enjoy my amusement.

“I don’t think she cared. I cashed her out as fast as possible before she decided to throw something at me because all men suck,” he chuckled. I imagined some middle-aged, crazy-haired woman picking up a package of eggs or something and chucking it at him. I could see the slimy, yellow-and-transparent, goopy eggs sliding down his shocked face. I began laughing uncontrollably at the image in my head.

“What?” he asked. “I’m not that funny.”

“Pictured…crazy…customer…throwing…eggs at you,” I gasped out between giggles.

“Well, if that’s what makes you happy…” He smiled crookedly at me. It felt good to laugh; I didn’t think anything could make me laugh again, but I was wrong. I just needed someone to distract me and make me forget, even if it was just for a moment.

“Taylor! What the hell!?” Liz’s angry voice instantly stopped my laughter, killing the moment. I looked up to where her voice was coming from. She was standing in front of my house with her arms crossed, glaring. I looked back at Kyle as I stood up.

“I have to go.” He just nodded at me. “Thanks,” I said as I turned and began walking toward Liz. This was not going to be fun.

“Taylor,” Kyle’s voice came again, and I turned my head back toward him. He was now standing, watching me.

“Yeah?” I asked

“There is a flaw to your plan.” A sly grin crept onto his face once again.

My eyebrow arched at him questioningly.

“I live across the street,” he told me; and, without another word, he turned around toward his house. Then I realized what he’d meant. I’d told my problems to a
stranger
I would probably see again.

CHAPTER TWO

Liz’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. She had been crying, and it appeared to have been a lot—and it was because of me. I inched toward her, feeling extremely guilty.

“Liz, I—”

“You blurt that out and just walk away, Taylor?” Liz’s voice wavered, not sounding as strong as it had a moment ago when she was yelling at me. I swallowed hard.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“Look, can we go somewhere else and talk? I don’t want to go into my house yet.”

“Sure,” her voice rasped as she went to her car. She had turned sixteen during the summer and received a car for her birthday. The car was a dark blue Hyundai Tiburon with a nice tan leather interior. She unlocked the doors, and I opened the passenger’s side and slid onto the warm leather seat before shutting the door again. I noticed some crumpled up tissues scattered on the floor and felt guilty again.

Liz started the car without looking at me and pulled away from the curb. I gazed out the window as she drove; the sun was still shining, making everything have a glow to it. Everything looked bright and happy, like nothing could be wrong in the world. A few clouds were scattered across the bright blue sky, and seagulls and various birds were soaring.

It took me a moment to realize that we had stopped; we were in a parking lot, far away from other cars but near some trees. I looked over at Liz and found her watching me. I bit my lip, knowing I needed to talk to her and tell her everything but unsure how to begin. I tucked some of my hair behind my left ear nervously. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and whispered, “I have leukemia, Liz.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see her reaction.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you and blurting that stuff out at school. I shouldn’t have done that,” I apologized and slowly opened my eyes to peek at her. Her usually lightly tan face with a few freckles scattered across it was now a slight red. Tears were sliding down her cheeks as she reached for my hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just found out yesterday,” I answered, holding my own tears back.

She looked hurt, and I could tell she didn’t understand why I hadn’t called to tell her immediately.

“I wasn’t ready to say it out loud; I just wanted everything to be normal. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, Liz.” I looked her in the eyes, trying to show her that I meant it. “This whole thing still doesn’t feel real,” I continued. “I didn’t want it to be real.”

Liz moved across the space between us and hugged me tightly.

“Sorry I got mad.” Her voice came out muffled. She pulled away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I probably would have done the same thing.”

She tried to smile a little, showing that she wasn’t angry anymore.