Rain (6 page)

“Uh, got into a fight with the kitchen or something?” he asked, smirking.

I ran my hands through my hair and felt remains of the fruit as I did and cringed.
Well, this must be attractive
. I motioned for him to come into the living room and shut the door behind him.

“Something like that,” I replied coolly.

He walked past me and went to the kitchen, probably to get a better look. “Well, I see you won. The fruit won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe the apples. Those look like they need some more killing.”

I felt some of my anger float away, and I smiled.

“They cause cancer,” I told him seriously.

He looked at me curiously with his big brown eyes. “Do they, now? Guess it is good that I refused to eat my fruits and veggies growing up then.” His voice held disbelief.

“Apparently, most fruits and vegetables that we find in the store have had pesticides used on them, and pesticides generally have cancer-causing agents. This was news to me, too,” I explained.

His smile saddened as he uncomfortably transferred his weight back and forth between the balls of his feet. He shifted and pulled a CD from his back pocket.

“I brought you a copy of the newest Three Days Grace CD. The one with the song you liked on the radio the other day,” he said, accounting for his presence while handing me the CD and changing the subject. I smiled when I took it from him, excited to listen to it and touched that he took the time to burn me a copy.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I replied, “but thank you.”

“It’s okay. I figured I paid for the CD, might as well share,” he pointed out, brushing off my thanks. “I have their older CDs also if you are interested in listening to those, too.”

“I would love that,” I beamed, my smile continuing to grow.

He returned my smile with one of his own soft and sweet ones then ventured farther into the kitchen. He bent down, picked up an apple, and tossed it in the trash. I’d done a really good job of covering the kitchen tiles because the next thing I knew, when Kyle turned back around, he was sliding across the floor and flailing his arms before he fell backwards on the floor with a thump. Without thinking, I was all of a sudden laughing uncontrollably, not even concerned if he was okay. The image of him falling was still running through my head, and his reaction was just hilarious.

“Don’t worry. I’m okay,” he scoffed, sitting up. Pieces of peaches and mashed bananas were ingrained in his hair as well as the back of his shirt.

“Sorry!” I giggled some more. I held my hand out with intentions of helping him up since my mouth couldn’t seem to do anything other than laugh at the whole situation.

He grasped my hand, and a mischievous look came over his face before he jerked me, making me lose my balance, and I fell down next to him. The splattered fruit that had graced my clothing before was nothing compared to what stuck to them now. We were both covered in fruit, yet somehow I was still holding the CD out of harm’s way. I’d automatically saved the CD, even though I couldn’t save myself.

“I was trying to help you clean, but this is way more entertaining,” he mused as he released a soft chuckle. I glared at him even though I was still laughing.

“Not cool.” I tried to sound angry and stop the laughter, but it didn’t work.

At that moment, I forgot that I had cancer. I barely knew Kyle, but it seemed easy to forget with him—maybe that was why. We didn’t really know each other, and in turn, he didn’t treat me differently or like I would break. I liked that. I needed that.

The front door opened, and I twisted my head to see my mom. She abruptly stopped in the living room when she saw us on the kitchen floor covered in fruit. Kyle and I sobered quickly, the laughing and smiling gone.
Oh crap. I’m in trouble.

“What happened?” she inquired, scanning the kitchen, and then looked from Kyle to me and back to Kyle again. I watched her face turn from confused to curious to happy to
what the hell happened to my kitchen
.

The glimpse of happiness must have been from catching me laughing and smiling, since she hadn’t seen me do that since my diagnosis. I wasn’t really sure what else she was thinking since I was sitting on the floor with a boy she had never met, covered in fruit. Expecting her to be angry, I quickly introduced Kyle.

“Mom, this is Kyle. He lives across the street.”

She nodded her head. “Nice to meet you, Kyle. I’m Cara Sullivan,” she told him, tilting her head to the side and giving him a warm smile. “I’m not even going to ask how this happened. I’m going to go take a shower and assume the kitchen will be miraculously cleaned when I come back,” she remarked in a neutral tone, surprising me.

I’d expected to be in trouble, not to be let off the hook that easily. She gave me a coy smile before she pivoted in the direction of the staircase that led to her bedroom and the upstairs bathroom. Kyle and I looked at each other; I grinned, laughing again.

“Your mom seems cool,” he stated.

“Yeah, well I think I’ll have some explaining to do later. You may have saved me for the moment,” I confessed. I didn’t think I would be in trouble anymore, but I knew I would have to tell her what happened.

Kyle stood and helped me up. I put the CD on the counter and then grabbed the dustpan and a few washcloths to clean up the mess I’d made. Kyle silently took one of the washcloths from my hand and wet it under the kitchen sink faucet. I held the dustpan on the floor and he ushered the destroyed fruit into it. When it was full, I dumped it in the trash, and we kept repeating the process until the floor was clear of mushy produce. Once the floor was clear, I got the Swiffer WetJet and used it to get rid of the stickiness. Having Kyle’s help made the cleanup a lot faster than it would have been by myself.

“Thanks,” I said, standing in front of him.

“No problem,” he replied as he reached up and softly brushed my cheek. My breath caught at the contact of his hand on my cheek. “Peaches,” he teased as he pulled his hand away, eyes sparkling, and showed me the piece of peach that was now on it.

I felt heat rush to my face, and I broke eye contact, embarrassed. “Yeah. Um. I’m sure I need a shower now,” my voice rasped like I hadn’t spoken in a while.

He smirked. “You may need more than one.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said, annoyed, shooting him a dark look. I walked him to the door, ready to get out of my clothing. I was feeling a bit gross. “Thanks again for the CD. I can’t wait to listen to it, but I think I need to shower before I permanently smell like peaches and bananas.” I made a ‘yuck’ face.

“You are starting to smell,” he mocked, fanning the air by his nose with his hand.

I once again glared at him. “Are you sure you aren’t smelling yourself? You’re just as dirty as I am,” I pointed out.

“Touché.” A sly smile slid onto his face. “Goodbye, Taylor,” he said and walked away from my door.

***

Dad arrived home a few hours after the fruit incident. Luckily, I had showered and changed before he walked through the door. I flung the book I had been reading, flew off the couch when the door opened, and hugged him before he even had a chance to put his luggage down. He dropped it and hugged me back warmly.

“Missed me, did you?” he chuckled, smiling.

I wanted to hold on to this moment because I knew it was about to be shattered. The genuine smile and happiness would soon disappear from my father’s face, but at this moment. I loved feeling like everything was okay and normal.

“Yes I did!” I exclaimed as I released my dad.

“That is some bright hair!” Dad grinned without an ounce of anger.

“Yeah,” I laughed.

“It looks good,” he commented approvingly. I smiled in return, relieved that he wasn’t upset.

Mom came down from upstairs, a smile on her face, and embraced him with a kiss. It was so terribly normal that it was frightening.

“David, we need to tell you something,” Mom told him, her face sobering. Her voice held sadness again.

“Okay,” he said as worry swept over his face.

We made our way to the couch and sat down. Mom sat next to Dad and angled herself to face him while I sat on the other side of her. Dad looked from Mom to me curiously, wondering what was going on.

“Taylor went to the doctors when you were gone,” mom started. She swallowed before continuing again. “They ran some tests and found that she has leukemia,” she finished.

Dad pulled back, anger coming over his face.
Oh this is not going to go well.
He ran his fingers through his graying brown hair.

“You found out that our daughter has cancer and you didn’t tell me?” His voice shook, and I could see him begin to shake also. Anger and hurt had taken over his normally soft and kind features.

“I didn’t want to ruin your trip, and there wasn’t anything you could do,” Mom defended.

“I think this is a bit more important than a stupid business trip, Cara,” he bit out as he stood up. I just sat still on the couch unable to move. “I could have been here.” His eyes became glossy.    

Mom apologized with tears in her eyes. “David, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t make decisions for me.” He glared at her. I couldn’t stand him being so angry with mom. It was an impossible situation.

“Dad,” I pleaded, drawing his attention to me. His body went slack when he looked at me, and for the first time ever, I saw a tear run down his face. I shakily got up and wrapped my arms around him, and he enveloped me in a warm hug.

“I’m sorry.” His words came out dripping with sadness.

“It’s not your fault, Dad. It’s not anyone’s.”

I felt Dad reach his hand out for Mom and she came and embraced us. Parents who loved me surrounded me and it was painful. I felt like I was ripping them apart, and I was terrified of how torn up they would become through all of this.

***

The night before I was supposed to check into the hospital for treatment, I couldn’t sleep. The past two days had been filled with many tears and watching my two strong parents fall apart in front of me. Time to myself had been limited, and now I found myself tossing and turning at eleven fifteen at night. I knew I needed the sleep, but my mind was reeling. The welcoming comfort my bed usually gave me just wasn’t here tonight.

I threw off the covers, giving up, and snatched my phone off of my nightstand. Without thinking my actions through, I found Kyle in my phone and sent him a one-word text message, not even knowing if the number was a cell phone number,

Me:
Stranger?

He didn’t even have my number. I probably should have said, “This is Taylor,” but a moment later, a text came back.

Kyle Stranger:
Outside?

Smiling, I jumped off of the bed, grabbed jeans, changed out of my pajama bottoms, and put on a jacket before tiptoeing through the house and out the door, not wanting to wake up my parents. Shutting the door quietly behind me, I turned toward Kyle’s house. He was already standing outside. His hair was messy, and he was wearing dark blue jeans—the first non-black pants I had seen on him—and a black leather jacket that fit him nicely. He had been born to wear that black leather jacket. He had a rugged look about him that probably should have yelled,
Danger!
But I found comfort in it.

He didn’t move, so I went to him.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” I asked since his hair looked like he had been sleeping.

“No, I was just listening to music. I actually burned you those other CDs also.” His voice came out as smooth as ever.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I told him

“Ah, so you don’t want me to sleep either.” He winked at me.

“Maybe.”

He eyed me, giving me an amused look.

“I start treatment tomorrow morning.”

The amusement fell from his face from my words. “Oh, wow.” He fumbled for words, but then he recovered. “Well, that means you will get better sooner, right?”

“Chances are better,” I said, sitting down on the sidewalk, not wanting to stand anymore. He followed, sitting next to me a few inches away.

“I see why you can’t sleep. Everything will change in the morning.”

“That and I’m afraid I won’t come back out of the hospital,” I admitted.

“You will,” he said with confidence.

“How do you know?”

“Well they don’t keep bodies in the hospital, so either way you will come out of the hospital.” He smirked.

“Way to make me feel better,” I chided.

“I’m kidding.” He chuckled, meeting my eyes, and it was like he was thinking something profound. “I’m not going to tell you that you will survive this, because I don’t know… But I hope you do.” The last few words came out in a whisper. A shiver went through me and I broke the intense eye contact, not being able to handle it.

“Thanks for not giving me false hope like most people will do.”

I met his eyes again as he spoke, his eyes sparkling, and I found myself wondering how he became the person I could talk to and confide in within a matter of days.

“For what it is worth, I think you will make it out of the hospital alive.”

Silently, I watched him, not responding to what he’d said. Liz was right—he was good looking—well, she’d said hot, but either way—with a darker edge. His warm smiles erased any darkness, and I wondered how I would have perceived him if he hadn’t approached me the day when I sat in front of his house and I had just seen him on the street instead.

His voice broke through my thoughts. “Can I come see you?”

“What?” I asked.

“At the hospital”

“Uh, I guess… If you want,” I answered but then thought about how sick I was going to get and didn’t think I would want to be seen like that.

“Well you do need someone to supply you with rock music while you are there.” He smirked, and a small smile crept onto my face.

I laughed. “You sound like you are supplying me illegal drugs or something.”

He responded with a deep chuckle.

Kyle inched back from the sidewalk and lay down on the grass in his yard with his hands folded behind his head.