There was something extremely appealing about the late summer rain. The way it would make you do crazy things, almost like as the warm water seeped through your clothes and soaked you to the bone, it washed away all your inhibitions with it. Your heart would lose all regularity, and fall in sync with the steady pitter-patter, loud in your ears, invading all your thoughts.
Maybe that was why I did it, because it was raining that special rain. Still, when I found myself outside Fare’s house, climbing the tree beside her window to wake her up, I couldn’t believe myself. I never did things like this.
“Do you have a death wish?” She growled before throwing on a sweater and climbing out the window.
“I’m not sure yet.” I yelled behind me.
The streets were illuminated by street lights, the roads wet under our flip flops as we ran. We laughed instantly every time puddles splattered us with even more water. It was like one of those movies, where time stops and all that’s left is the feeling. You no longer notice what’s happening, just the intense adrenaline that makes your heart beat faster.
It was mid-August, right around the time when every day of summer was another day closer to school. Time felt measured, and suddenly, everyone was busy doing the things they promised they would do before summer started, wondering how so much time had passed. This summer though, it hit me a lot harder than other years; soon, it would be my last year of high school. I didn’t know if I should be upset or relieved.
It was that eerie feeling of being watched that brought me back to my surroundings. I tugged on Fare’s arm, making us both fall to the ground, panting. “Do you feel it?” I asked. She looked at me with that strange Fare look.
“The ground? Yes, unfortunately, I do.”
“Ugh. You’re horrible,” I said as I squeezed puddles of water out of my clothes and hair. The rain had become something of a ghost. Now, only light occasional drops would fall from the sky, too small to even notice. I was helping Fare up when I saw a pair of green eyes reflected in the puddle at my feet.
“You’re wet.” He said, his eyes now staring straight at me. He looked about my age, with short, dark hair, and that intense stance that made you want to fix your posture.
“Oh, really? I didn’t notice.” I said, staring straight back. I heard Fare snicker behind me, obviously holding back laughter. Then, we both watched as he turned around and started walking away, tense.
Normally, I would have watched him go, wondering why he walked the way he did, talked the way he did, but instead, I found myself catching up to him, and standing in his way. “Phoenix,” I said, holding out my hand. He paused for a minute and peered at me, tilting his head as if asking why I was still standing there.
I smiled, trying to ignore the feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be doing this. Everything about my actions screamed unusual, like the strong need I had to know more about him. He finally eased up, letting his shoulders sag just a bit, and, “Cade,” he told me.
I realized my hand was still outstretched and tucked it into my pocket feeling ridiculous. I should be at home, in bed, maybe watching reruns of old shows in the basement, not introducing myself to a stranger, soaking wet and on a street I’ve never been on before. Suddenly noticing how strange this situation was, I became fully aware of everything I was doing. My foot stopped twitching and my fingers stopped playing with my nails.
Desperate to end the moment, I nodded as if saying goodbye and walked away, hoping Fare would follow me. Then, everything went back to normal, my legs regained my usually balance and my fingers found their place in each other. Never again was I ever acting upon my impulse.
I woke up the next morning, my back aching, and took a long shower. I wanted to somehow wash off the peculiar feeling that had lingered since last night. Then, I lazily got ready, grabbed a bag, and quickly put up my hair before heading out the door to meet Fare. All I needed was to be surrounded by books, I told myself.
The library had large, Victorian style double doors. It was an old, big place that had been around for a long time, just like the rest of the town. I found my way inside and my eyes scanned the large hall for a place to sit when I saw him. I could recognize his square shoulders and upright stance from miles away. He looked up from the book he was holding for only a second, before flipping the page and leaning into the couch he was sitting on.
“You’re from here.” I stated, surprised. How come I’ve never seen him before? He gave me that look again, with the hard stare and tilted head. Then, he looked back into his book as he answered me with full seriousness, “Oh really? I didn’t know.”
Suddenly I was laughing, hard. I had to hold onto my stomach and cover my mouth in order to muffle the noise so that I wouldn’t disturb anyone. He looked surprised to see me laughing, a little grateful even, like it had been a while since anyone laughed at something he said.
Soon, I saw a smile on his face and an awkward chuckle, rough and unusual. Then, a louder chuckle followed, and finally, a real laugh. He had a nice laugh, the type that was genuine, deep but not intimidating, strong but fragile. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly cupped his mouth and regained his cold stare.
“You don’t do that often, do you?” He had returned to his book, flipping the next page and ignoring me. Something told me I had done something wrong, and it was last night all over again. I coughed into my fist, trying to get his attention, but he only ignored that too. “Are you always this quiet?” I asked him, staring at the wall because I was afraid to see that accusing stare of green eyes.
A minute passed. Another minute passed.
Finally, “What do you think?” I heard his voice, a little strained and raspy, escape himself. He looked like he regretted saying that, but before I could ask him why he was so quiet, afraid to talk, “Why,” he started, “are you here?”
I thought about that a little. The library was like my safe haven. Everywhere you looked lied another adventure you could unravel in your hands, more importantly, someone else’s adventure. But I didn’t tell him that. “Routine?” I asked, unsure if my answer qualified.
“I hate routine.” He told me, and then, I couldn’t reach him anymore. He had entered another universe, and it wasn’t like I had anything to say anyways, so I got up and walked away looking for Fare.
Thinking about what Cade had said, I tried to stay out of routine, do something crazy and live a little while I still had the chance. Then again, I never did anything crazy. That was Fare; she was the one who took risks and made daring choices, I was only the cricket on the side telling her to slow down and think about it.
The next time I saw him was a week later in Kathryn’s, the local coffee shop. He was sitting by himself in one of the farther booths with nothing but a drink in his hand. He wasn’t embarrassed though; it looked like he was most peaceful alone. I had only come to pick up two green teas, one for me, and one for Fare who was waiting in the car, but I couldn’t just leave.
There was something about him that made me want to ask, something a lot more powerful than curiosity, so I found myself a couple meters away from him, still holding two cups of green tea, silent. I wasn’t thinking about what Fare would say about what I was doing, or what I would say – both of which would have been complete opposites – because I knew if I did, I would back out now, and leave before he noticed me.
