September Rain

by A.R. Rivera

28

  -Avery

  Some of my best times were the ones I spent at Angels' house. Even if Deanna didn't like me she was still cordial. Even if there was nothing to do over there, I'd still show. I'd sit at the dining table wearing a stupid grin because even being bored over there was way better than doing anything at my house.

  "You should totally try that." I whispered in Angels' ear, one night as we sat in the living room, watching a movie with Austen. It was Natural Born Killers.

  Angel wasn't paying attention to the movie. She'd started wondering if Jake would stop by during the opening murder scene in the diner and by the time I whispered in her ear, Mallory was splayed on the hood of some car, getting nasty with a guy that wasn't Mickey. Angels' glazed look came into focus on the TV. "Try what?"

  Austen glanced our way but I pretended not to notice.

  "You've never wondered?" I kept my voice low, eyes widening. One of my hands was twirling a strand of long, black hair. I gave my best salacious gaze, flashing it at Austen, then back to the TV.

  Angel rolled her eyes and got up, making for her bedroom. She was in a sulky mood and there was no talking to her when she got like that-when she had that withdrawn air about her, it was best to leave her alone.

  But I was in a mood, too. I tightened my eyes and grinned, daring Angel, begging her to say something contrary to my intention so I could spend the rest of the night proving I was way more brave than she thought. It was just one of those nights when I wanted to let go and do something stupid.

  But Angel wasn't having any of my attitude. She was too caught up in Jake and his asshat ways. Analog Controllers' tour was starting soon, and she hadn't been asked to go to California. Then there was his inglorious fumbling confession: those two words might as well have been tattooed on her forehead. She thought I didn't hear her mumblings under her breath. Whenever Angel was thinking really deep over something, she'd speak her thoughts aloud.

  Angel sighed, gave a semblance of a wave, and disappeared down the hall. She was done for the night. I stayed on the couch, sifting the possibilities of this uneventful evening. I had no plans, nowhere to go. Nothing.

  I settled for subtly shifting my weight, leaning towards Austen, who still sat on the other end. Yes, he had a girlfriend. But she wasn't there. His skin was colored like caramel. His hair was too long and he really needed to consider washing his face more often, but . . . like I said, I was bored.

  "Moms' got the night off." He murmured, and I wondered if he could read my mind.

  I tossed a bemused look. "Am I that predictable?"

  He shook his head just as Deanna walked in from the back porch, padding quietly through the kitchen, carrying a tall glass of iced tea. It was late and she looked wide awake. Her sharp eyes examined the two bodies on the couch.

  "What are you two whispering about?"

  "This movie's weird," Austen complained. "I'm going to my room. I want to listen to music." As he got up, his gaze scraped past me.

  Deanna snorted, "Good. Remote's mine." She fell into the newly open corner of the couch. It was the best spot, directly in front of the TV and right under the vent of the perpetually running air conditioner. There was a standing rule that whoever nabbed the coveted spot got the remote. Austen was the one who started the rule, which was never really enforced since Deanna worked all night and slept most of the day.

  "You mind if I change it?" Deanna asked.

  "Go ahead," I waved absently at the TV and crossed my arms. "I'm not into ironic commentaries on violence in modern society."

  Deanna commenced channel surfing. It was late and there was nothing on except cable movies already in progress and re-runs of old sitcoms.

  We could hear Austen's music creeping up from the hallway. I nodded my head, singing along to Cult of Personality. I loved the guitar hook. During the second chorus, I turned to Deanna.

  "Is it okay if I go listen to music with Austen?"

  My question was met with her easy smile. "Go ahead." Deanna stopped the clicking the remote, settling on an old episode of M.A.S.H.

  I smiled, casually lifting from the sofa. "Thanks."

  "And close his door, would you? I don't need that noise."

  "But it's Living Colour." I reasoned, sounding slightly disagreeable, as if closing his bedroom door might impede my listening capability.

  Deanna scanned the dim room and gave a wide wave towards herself, gesturing to her dark skin. "I got plenty color."

  I hummed my way down the hall, glancing into Angels' room as I passed. She was wearing headphones and dragging a blanket into her closet. I stopped for a moment, waiting for her to notice me. I assumed she'd look on quizzically and then I'd give an exaggerated wink before dancing into Austen's bedroom. But that didn't happen. She just sat on the floor of her closet and curled her knees to her chest.

  I continued on to Austen's room and closed the door behind me.

  "What are you doing?" Austen asked, wide-eyed, from where he sat on his bed. He held an open binder on his lap. It looked like I was interrupting him trying to study.

  His eyes were wired with surprise, but followed my hands as I slid them down my hips, along my thighs.

  Austen's cheeks flushed. His eyes darkened. "You're pure evil."

  The temperature in the room shot up, like the earth suddenly shifted closer to the sun. I almost told him he could call me Sheila if he wanted, but decided to lift my skirt up around my waist instead.

  "You might even be the devil." Austen whispered, closing the binder.

  I was on him before he set it on the bed side table.

  +++

  It was almost like I never left. I was back in the living room, my curiosity-and only my curiosity-satisfied, just as the ending credits of M.A.S.H began to roll.

  "Back so soon?" Deanna smiled and patted the cushion beside her.

  "Yeah, Austen's taste in music is terrible."

  She chuckled. "I tried to warn you."

  29

  -Avery

  I was not taking anything that wasn't offered.

  He never loved me. Matter of fact, by the end I'm sure he hated me. Truth be told, Jake only responded to what I did; Angel was the one he pursued.