Rain Read online

  “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 lef
t 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.

  “When you are ready to talk, I’m here, Taylor—always.”

  “I know.” I attempted a smile back, but I knew it just looked sad. It wasn’t like the smile I had when Kyle made me laugh.

  “Anyways”—Liz’s voice became bubblier—“who was Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hotness sitting with you when I got to your house?” She raised a pointed eyebrow at me.

  “He is apparently my neighbor and was worried about a squatter in front of his house.”

  “Mm Hmm, sure,” she mused. “You two sure looked comfortable.” I rolled my eyes at her, glad to be talking about something else.

  “Seriously, we just met; and he told me a funny story since I was upset.” I defended my behavior, not that she would ever judge me.

  “Okay…” Her tone said she didn’t believe me.

  We talked for a while about unimportant things and grabbed some food before she dropped me off at home. Liz was a great friend and was good at letting me off the hook when I needed it. I had taken that for granted too often, which made me feel even worse for how I’d treated her at school.

  I went into the house and walked into the kitchen to get a drink. My mom was on the phone, leaning against the counter; she looked concerned, but it didn’t look like she had been crying for a while.

  As I opened the fridge, I heard my mom say, “She wasn’t at school today.”

  Crap. I turned around and saw her glance at me and then away.

  “No, that was my mistake; I got caught up and forgot to dismiss her.” Her voice came out calm as she covered for me. “While you are calling, I would also like to dismiss her for tomorrow; she has been very sick and needs the rest.”

  She paused while the other person spoke.

  “Thank you. I will. Goodbye,” she said before clicking the phone off and putting it down. “Taylor, the fridge,” she said, pointing toward it.

  I realized I was still holding it open. I closed it and waited for her to be angry at me, but it didn’t come.

  “Why didn’t you ask me to dismiss you? I told you that you didn’t have to go to school today.” Her voice rang with concern. I looked down at the white tiles with black stripes.

  “I know,” I mumbled. “I thought it would be fine,” I said, shrugging, “but once I got there, everyone was acting normal and Liz wanted to plan my birthday party and I just couldn’t do it and left.” I looked back up at her and continued. “I know I could have called, but I just didn’t want to talk about it or come inside the house yet. I’m sorry,” I finished. I was apologizing a lot today.

  “Come here.” She motioned for me. I went into her arms, and she hugged me tightly. Comfort, love, and warmth washed over me, making me want to cry again. “I won’t make you talk about it until you’re ready,” she promised as she rubbed my back. I nodded my head in her shoulder.

  We stood like that for a while, and then my mom made dinner. We ate together quietly, and she told me to stay home and relax tomorrow, which sounded good to me—although I didn’t want to get behind in my classes yet because I would be missing a lot more school soon. I would have to ask Liz if she could get my homework for me from my teachers.

  After dinner, I felt exhausted and decided to call it an early night. Curling up in my white down comforter, I waited until sleep took over, looking forward to the escape of my dreams.

  ***

  I awoke to sunlight spilling across my bed through the blinds. I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the light, and looked at my alarm clock. It read ten fifteen a.m. in big red numbers. Shuffling out of my blankets, I stood up and grabbed my robe, putting it on before venturing out into the kitchen. I found a note on the counter.

  Taylor,

  I had to go to work today. Call me if you need anything. Relax and sleep.

  Love,

  Mom

  Planning to do just that, I grabbed a bowl of cereal and went into the living room. Deciding I needed a good comedy, I put in the movie Easy A and settled onto the couch. I was about halfway through when I heard a knock on the door. I waited because no one was supposed to be coming; when there weren’t any plans, no one really knocked on the door. I heard another knock, so I went to the door and cautiously opened it.

  Kyle was standing there, dressed in all black again. I froze for a moment, surprised; he was the last person I’d expected.

  “Hi.”

  “Uh, h-hi,” I stammered, still surprised.

  “Will you come somewhere with me?” he asked as he watched me.

  “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise; I need you to trust me.” His eyes sparkled mischievously.

  “A surprise? You don’t even know me.”

  “Yup, just come with me,” he said confidently.

  I bit my lip nervously, wondering how he could possibly have a surprise for me.

  “Unless your boyfriend would have a problem with you hanging out with me…”

  “No, he wouldn’t.” I locked my gaze on his, and thought for a minute. I could still hear the movie playing in the living room. I wasn’t doing anything exciting that I couldn’t do later.

  “Why not?” I answered curiously. He grinned at me, transforming his face.

  “So do you want to change?” He pointed at me. I looked down, suddenly embarrassed. I forgot that I had my robe on.

  “Yes,” I almost yelled. “I’ll be right back.” I left him at the door.

  I practically ran to my room and shut the door a little too hard. I grabbed a pair of jeans, a white tank top, and my jean jacket and quickly put them on. I brushed my hair and threw it up in a ponytail. I slid my feet into my white tennis shoes, grabbed my brown leather purse, and went back to the living room. I found him standing in the living room watching the movie I hadn’t turned off yet.

  “Um, come right in.”

  He looked up at me, looking a little guilty, but didn’t apologize.

  “Ready?” he asked. I looked away from him, found the remote, and shut off the TV and movie. I went out the door, and he followed.

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?” I questioned as we walked toward his house.

  “I graduated at the beginning of summer.”

  “From here?” I racked my brain again to remember if I had seen him before but came up empty.

  “No, my dad lives here, and I moved back in with him after I graduated. My mom moved us to LA when my parents divorced, and my dad stayed here. I went to school there, so I only got to spend time with him a little in the summers and maybe here and there during the year. I decided to spend more time with him and have a new start somewhere else,” he explained in more detail than I’d expected. Now I knew where he had gotten his nice tan complexion.


  “Oh, wow. L.A. That must have been nice. “

  “It was okay. I guess it just becomes less of a big deal when you live there for a long time.” He was now standing next to a sleek black car. I went to the passenger’s side as he swooped in and opened the door for me. I blushed, surprised, and got in, taking in the nice black leather interior. Then he shut my door, went around to the driver’s side, and got in.

  “Yours?” I asked, still examining it.

  “My dad’s. Not really my style.” He backed up and began driving.

  How could this not be someone’s style? I wondered.

  We both were silent, and I became nervous, not knowing where we were going or what we were doing. He reached his hand out and turned on the radio, and a rock band projected through the speakers. Kyle quietly sang along to the song. “‘You left me here like a chalk outline on the sidewalk, waiting for the rain to wash away; you keep coming back to the scene of the crime, but the dead can't speak and there's nothing left to say anyway.’” He had a nice voice—not hidden talent, break-out artist but nice and enjoyable to listen to. I listened until the song finished and a new one came on.

  “Who sang that?” I asked.

  He glanced over at me. “Three Days Grace.”

  “Cool, I liked it,” I responded as I tried to remember so I could look them up later.

  He glanced at me again with a look that said he didn’t believe me.

  I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m serious. More than a blond girl here,” I scolded. He just smirked.

  We pulled into a small shopping center and parked.

  “We’re here,” Kyle said as he got out of the car. I exited, looking around and wondering what place we were going to. There was a little food place and what looked to be a craft store along with a few other stores I wasn’t close enough to see. He led and I followed, trying to peek in the windows while keeping up with his fast pace. I almost ran into him when he stopped suddenly, opened a door, and signaled with his free hand to go in. I stopped abruptly when I realized it was a hair salon. I turned to look at Kyle as a woman with short, layered blond hair went over to Kyle and hugged him.