The Weight of Rain

by Mariah Dietz

  “Maybe you should ask Kashton out.” Allie’s words catch me so off guard it takes me a second to shake my head.

  “No way. He’s my boss!”

  “So what?”

  “Allie’s right. You do seem to get along with him well,” Charleigh adds.

  “We do because we’re friends. Besides, I’m pretty sure he and another woman he works with have a thing. That’s really beside the point though, because as much as I like Kash, I don’t have feelings like that for him.” I don’t. Sometimes I think I do, but each time I close my eyes and try picturing myself kissing him, nothing about it feels right.

  “Because you’re still stuck on Mr. Stars.” My lips turn down in a frown as I look to Charleigh. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I know you say you’re over him, and I know it’s been months. I just still think it’s possible.”

  “It’s not,” I say firmly.

  “I heard there’s a party this weekend out by the Gorge. What do you think? We could go and see if he shows up?” Allie is reading the synopsis of a show, missing my scowl at her suggestion.

  “You guys aren’t listening. I. Am. Over. Him. Nothing was even there to begin with!”

  “Then why aren’t you dating anyone?” Allie turns her blue eyes on me with a leveling intensity.

  “I don’t have the time to date!” My voice is exasperated, filled with annoyance for having to defend myself yet again about him.

  “You don’t have to get worked up. It’s okay that you aren’t dating. But it’s also okay if you still have feelings for that guy, too. Look at Romeo and Juliet; they fell madly in love within a few days and then were ready to die just so they could be together.”

  “That’s fiction!” I object. “The real world isn’t like that. You don’t fall in love with someone in just a couple of hours. That’s called infatuation, lust, a crush. I had a crush on a hot guy that I had a good time with. I did not fall in love with him.”

  “My nan married my granddad after knowing him for only three days. It’s not all fiction,” Charleigh says, shaking her head.

  The doorbell rings, and I have never been so appreciative of a distraction because as much as I don’t want to, I want to believe she’s right.

  We settle in, Allie turning on Ever After like she had initially planned, while Charleigh carefully begins dissecting her food, ensuring there aren’t any chili peppers.

  “By the way, I think I remember his name.”

  “Whose name?” Allie asks as she impatiently hits the button to skip previews repeatedly.

  “Mr. Stars?” Charleigh asks, her fork stopping and eyes widening with hope.

  I nod slowly. “Yeah, I think it was Bentley, but I asked Kenzie, and she said she doesn’t know a Bentley, so I’m still not positive I’m right.”

  “Bentley.” Charleigh repeats the name and then says it several more times. “I like Bentley. Bentley and Lauren, that’s cute.”

  “Don’t make me regret telling you.”

  “WE SHOULD try riding in the shop tomorrow.” Mercedes’ voice is filled with a hope that I hate being the one to break, but getting back on a bike has held little interest for me. Rather than feeling braver or more eager about the prospect, the mere idea makes my heart thrum and my palms grow sweaty. I had relented to the idea and rode around the backyard which is a mostly level expanse of wet leaves.

  “I like watching you ride. Besides, I have to keep my arms out of casts since my job and education both rely on them.”

  “You can’t scare yourself. You did so well!”

  “I’m not scaring me. The giant cement pool does that.”

  Mercedes shakes her head, rolling her eyes. I know she’s about to let the control freak in her spout attitude, because she’s balled her small fists and stamped them on either hip. “You’re being ridiculous. If you quit everything because it’s scary, how far would you ever get in this world?” Her green eyes are wide, waiting for my reply.

  “When did you start listening to anything an adult says?” I tease. “I have to get going. I have a scene I have to finish that I’m dreading. We can argue about this tomorrow.”

  Her scowl falls as the front door opens and a loud hello is called.

  “Uncle King!” Mercedes sprints down the hall, her sock-covered feet sliding along the wood floors, nearly making her lose her balance, which elicits giggles, and rather than slow down she speeds up.

  “Easy, monkey. No breaking bones on my watch. Remember?” His voice is deep and warm, with a slight trace of gravel, much like Mercedes’.

  My heartbeat is still accelerated from watching her Evel Knievel sprint down the hallway as I watch her wrap around his waist, her head tilting back as she laughs. He’s tall—taller than Kash—and wearing skater shoes, a pair of black and gray plaid shorts, and a black hoodie, along with a black baseball hat that’s shadowing his face as he looks down at his niece.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks. His voice paints an image of burlap in my mind with the soft roughness.

  “Yeah, Lo doesn’t know how to cook,” Mercedes says.

  “Lo?”

  “My new nanny,” she explains, sounding burdened by the question. “Come on, catch up.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forg—”

  My eyes climb at the break in his words and find the same dark brown eyes I’ve been seeing everywhere over the past three months, staring at me. My heart wasn’t racing solely because of Mercedes’ daredevil race—it recognized his voice before my conscious mind did.

  “King, can we order pizza?”

  King?

  “Yeah, yeah. Um, why don’t you go pick a movie and I’ll order.”

  “I don’t want any toes on my pizza.”

  “No olives, got it,” he says impatiently, his eyes still focused on me.

  “And no mushrooms, or onions, or anything besides—”

  “Cheese, yeah, I know.”

  “Last time you tried to sneak pineapple. None of that this time.”

  His head shakes and finally turns to look at her. “Cheese on top of cheese, nothing else.”

  “I want sauce, duh!”

  “Watch the attitude. Go pick a movie.”

  “Maybe my uncle King can teach you to cook. He’s really good,” Mercedes explains, turning to face me again.

  “Mercedes, get your butt in the game room and pick a movie.”

  “What’s your problem?” Her scowl has returned, but rather than firing off a reply, she shuffles down the hall.

  “Lo?” I can feel his eyes inspecting me, bringing my arms to cross over my chest.

  “I thought your name was Bentley?”

  “It’s my middle name, but … What are you doing here?”

  My eyes widen. It seems that my reason for being here is fairly obvious, yet the explanation seems lost on me as well for a moment.

  “I mean, I know why, but … how? How did you find me?”

  “Find you?”

  “You never called. I thought…”

  I don’t know that I’ve ever been this embarrassed. The brown eyes that haunt me in my sleep are wide, making his hat rise slightly so I can see more of his face without shadows from the bill. He looks terrified to see me. Not only does he look afraid, but there’s something else. When you draw people, you study them and learn there are certain expressions that are nearly unanimous. Humiliation has my eyes darting from his before I can grasp what other emotions are mingled with his surprise.

  “King!” Kash nearly hits King with the front door as he steps inside, dressed in a similar non-cold-weather outfit. “What’s up, dude? I didn’t know you were getting home tonight!”

  My neck snaps and my eyes stretch, replaying the word home.

  “Did you meet Lo?”

  “Yeah, we just met,” I reply instantly, keeping my attention on Kash. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Nice meeting you, King.”

  I grab my coat and bag from beside the door and barely notice the confusion on Kash’s face
as I clear the deck to create some space.

  “Hey! Wait!”

  I feel entirely too warm as my steps slow down, and turn to see King clearing the bottom two steps with a practiced leap. Still, I yank on my coat because of course it’s raining again, and I know I will be freezing on the bus ride to my apartment if I’m soaking.

  “That came out wrong. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean I thought you had stalked me exactly…” His voice is wary, tinged with confusion.

  “Exactly?”

  “Well, it’s just weird that I come home and you’re babysitting my niece.”

  “That’s funny because I was just thinking how weird it is that you told me your name was Bentley.”

  His gaze moves to the side of me, weighing my words, and I realize I still haven’t objected to the fact that I’ve somehow stalked him.

  “I didn’t know you lived here.” I blurt the words louder and more forcefully than the others, making his eyes return to mine. “I barely remember you. Whatever happened happened, but I wasn’t looking for you. When someone told me about a babysitting job, the last thing I questioned was if I would see you here. That was what? Like three months ago? I didn’t plan to ever see you again.”

  His eyes narrow, reflecting a similar expression to the one I so often received from Mercedes that is finally becoming a shadow to the smiles she generally greets me with. “Good. I just wanted to make sure things were clear between us.”

  “Crystal.”

  “Perfect.”

  My lips press together and I nod. “Great.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Terrific.”

  “This is amazing.” He shakes his head as he dips it low enough that his eyes disappear under the bill of his hat.

  My eyebrows cinch with confusion that quickly relents to awkwardness for standing here, watching him shake his head after accusing me of stalking him. I shake my head and without looking back to him, head down the long driveway that’s starting to darken with shadows.

  The soft echo of his feet crunching on the gravel meets my ears over my own footsteps. His are louder, and I know part of that is because he’s taking wider steps.

  They stop long before my trip to the bus station does.

  “I HAVE wine and donuts.” Charleigh pushes the door open with her foot and lifts two bags in the air to show me her treasures.

  “Wine first. I want my stomach empty.”

  Charleigh cracks a smile and deposits the bags on the counter before making her way over to where I’m slouched at my easel.

  “I thought things were getting better with Mercedes.”

  “They are.”

  “Then why are you in such a foul mood?”

  Usually the sound of Charleigh’s accent pulls my lips into a smile. Her sense of humor carries a warmth that I’ve become reliant on. But as she approaches me, all I can think is I want to be alone.

  “I found him.”

  “Who?” Charleigh’s brows furrow as she stops with several feet still separating us.

  “Him,” I say. “Bentley.”

  “Oh my God. What do you mean you found him?”

  “I mean, I saw him today.”

  “What? Where? How? He remembered you … didn’t he?” I try to ignore how hopeful she sounds.

  “He thought I was stalking him.”

  Charleigh closes her eyes for a full second and then opens them wide, her long painted lashes becoming more pronounced as her eyes seem to stretch wider with shock. “He did not!”

  I press my lips together and nod, fighting a smirk that doesn’t feel appropriate for how terrible I still feel about everything that transpired today. It becomes a laugh that makes me cough. All afternoon humor has been at the very bottom of the emotions that I’ve been experiencing, but suddenly retelling my story to Charleigh is making me want to laugh and let the awkwardness of the afternoon fall like the rain.

  “Where did you see him?” she asks, leaning closer to me.

  “Oh, you’re going to freak out.”

  “Tell me!” she cries, sitting beside my small stool, on my bed.

  “I’m trying, patient one.” Charleigh scrunches her nose and purses her lips. She wants to tell me off, but her need to hear about my seeing him again is outweighing her retort. My lips climb into a grin before I shake my head to clear my thoughts. King’s wide eyes return to my memory, and with it, so does a frown and the embarrassment I’ve been treading all evening.

  “He’s Kashton’s brother. Mercedes’ uncle.”

  “You’re lying!”

  I shake my head again. “He came right before I got off. Apparently, he lives with them.”

  “He lives there!” I can tell by her tone that she thinks this is just as horrible as I do.

  I slowly nod in confirmation. There really isn’t anything to say.

  “What did he say?” she asks.

  “Not a lot.”

  “Then how do you know he thought you were stalking him?”

  “He asked how I found him.”

  “What did you say? Did you tell him he was impossible to find?”

  “No! Kash got home. And do you want to know why it was impossible to find Bentley?” My head cocks to the side. “It’s because it’s not his real name.” My voice is raised to express just how ridiculous this all is. “His name’s King.”

  Charleigh’s eyebrows soar up her forehead and she stares at me for several long seconds. “His name isn’t Bentley?”

  “Nope.”

  “People are named King? I thought that was like American pop culture that brought this wave of strange baby names?”

  “His brother’s name is Kash, Charleigh.”

  She wrinkles her nose and smiles faintly. “What’s worse is they’re starting to grow on me and become normal names.” She throws her head back and shakes her long dark hair before looking back to me. “That really doesn’t sound like he thought you were stalking him though, love.”

  “You should have seen his face, Charleigh. He was not expecting to see me. And then I left and he followed me outside and down the driveway and said he wasn’t trying to accuse me of stalking.”

  “You never tell someone you aren’t trying to insinuate something! It automatically says that you are!”

  I nod several times in agreement and she closes her eyes again, releasing a loud sigh. “So, are you telling me that Mr. Stars is just like all of the rest of the wankers?”

  “He’s a dude. The Y chromosome is crafted with the art of being an asshole.”

  “No, no. Not all Y chromosomes. Boys are wankers. You need to find a man.”

  My lips slide into a smile without me being able to consider it. “I don’t need a man. I need to get some sleep because I have a test tomorrow in math that I’m predicting I’m going to fail.”

  “I’m so angry though, Lauren. Aren’t you mad? He was so great, and then you find him and he’s…”

  “A wanker, I know,” I say, standing up from the small seat that is far more uncomfortable when I’m not lost in creation. “I didn’t expect to see him again, so I don’t think I’m all that disappointed. I’m more dreading going back and having to possibly face him again.”

  “That is going to be awful.”

  “Not helping, Charleigh.”

  “Sorry! But it is!”

  “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “What about the wine and donuts?” Charleigh asks, standing from my bed.

  “Allie probably needs them more. I stopped in to say hi to her earlier, and she’s acting like a maniac. Carbs and alcohol will do her good.”

  “You might find carbs and alcohol to be beneficial as well.”

  “Not tonight. Thanks.”

  “Tomorrow, then?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  With a deep breath, I fall against my bed with enough force my hair bounces around me. I should turn off the lights. I should lock the door. I should eat. But my eyes are already closed, tracing ove
r the memories of King from this summer, and seeing him again tonight.

  I allow myself only the briefest of seconds before I roll off my bed, hitting the edge with a fist before stalking to the door and locking it, and peeling my clothes off as I head back to my bed, not caring about food.

  “LO, WE need to talk.”

  Heart thrumming, I turn to face King and watch his long strides close the gap between us faster than what seems possible because my attention is focused on the muscles moving beneath the thin grey cotton of his tee. His slightly uneven smile confirms he knows I was admiring the fluidity and strength of his body. He exudes a confidence and sexual vigor that makes my stomach tighten and every cell in my body to divide with equal parts want and a struggle to deny that want. Trying to ignore the heat rushing through me, I hold my chin a bit higher and wait for him to continue.

  The humor is still bright in his brown eyes as he stops in front of me and runs a hand across his chest, drawing attention to how soft the worn fabric appears. My fingers are itching to follow the same path but I clench them tighter at my sides. “You’re so beautiful in the rain.” Extending his hand, he trails his thumb over my cheek that is suddenly wet. All of me is. The rain seems to be literally falling from every direction. My hair and clothes are quickly dampening, sticking to my skin that feels sticky.

  I don’t know how to acknowledge or interpret his words. Rationally I’m accepting the compliment, bathing in it, clutching it like it’s a physical object, one precious enough I want to both hide in my underwear drawer and show to everyone.

  “What are you talking about? I thought you said…”

  “You caught me by surprise. I never expected to see you when I opened that door. I think I just … I was really shocked.” King’s hand trails over my shoulder, lingering on the sensitive skin at the inside of my elbow before traveling down to the inside of my wrist. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

  “This?” My voice is embarrassingly low and breathy. King’s lips climb back into his beautiful crooked smile, knowing his affect over me.

  “You,” he says, moving a foot between mine, bringing him so close I can feel the warmth of his chest through our wet shirts, causing my arms to feel colder in contrast.