Rain (3 page)

“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.

“Kyle! How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Her voice was excited and friendly.

“I’m good. Just moved back, so you should see me more.”

“Good,” she stated and then pulled away and looked at me. “I’m Monique.” She introduced herself and put out her hand. I shook it uneasily, but she just smiled at me.

“She would like her hair dyed,” Kyle’s always-smooth voice came.

I turned around and faced him again. “I can’t dye my hair; my parents will kill me,” I said, shaking my head and crossing my arms in front of me. Monique looked at us and then gave us space.

“Taylor, it can’t be worse than losing your hair, so why does it matter if you dye it?” he argued quietly so other people wouldn’t hear.

“Because my mom will freak out,” I justified, but I agreed fully with what Kyle had said.

“You don’t have control over that, but right now you can take control of your hair and do whatever you want to it.” He looked at me seriously, and I could tell he wasn’t going to stand down. I couldn’t help but smile.

He was right. I had wanted to change my hair forever, and now I could; after all, it was going to fall out anyway. I got excited and couldn’t hold my grin back. I walked to the desk Monique had gone to and she looked up.

“I want to get my hair dyed, please,” I told her.

“Are you sure”

“Very,” I smiled at her. She smiled back and looked at Kyle.

“Okay,” she said and showed me to her station. “I’ll go grab a book of colors for you to look through; make yourself comfortable,” she told me.

I slid my jacket off and laid it on top of my purse next to my chair. I was about to sit down when Kyle’s hand wrapped around my left wrist lightly and pulled up my arm. The suddenness of his touch was startling. I looked at him, confused, and saw fire in his eyes—raw anger I didn’t understand. His eyes looked up at me and penetrated mine.

“Did your boyfriend do this to you?” he asked angrily, pointing at my arm. I could tell he was struggling to keep his voice low. I looked down, unsure of what he was talking about, and saw a bruise wrapped around my arm. I remembered Liz grabbing my arm in the hallway; she hadn’t grabbed me very hard, but I knew that was what had caused it. Bruising was one of the things that had caused me to go to the doctor in the first place.

“No,” I told him honestly; his expression said he didn’t believe me. “It’s a symptom,” I said calmly, still looking into his eyes. Realization washed over him, and he relaxed, letting go of my arm but not breaking eye contact.

“Sorry. It looked like someone grabbed your arm extremely hard,” he apologized, looking a little guilty for his reaction.

“It was from my friend Liz. She grabbed my arm yesterday, but not hard; she was just trying to get my attention,” I explained and forced a small smile.

Monique came back and Kyle stepped away, giving us room. She handed me a book, and I sat down in the chair and flipped through it. There was every color imaginable: reds, browns, black, purples, blues… I stopped when I got to the pinks and an idea formed.

“Can I get highlights?” I asked, looking at Kyle and Monique.

“Whatever you want,” Kyle told me

“Do you know what color you want?” Monique asked. I looked back down and then back up and grinned.

“Pink!” I exclaimed excitedly. Instead of doing a color like brown or black to blend in, I decided I wanted something fun that would stand out.

“Thought you didn’t want blonde hair?” Kyle questioned my choice.

“Decided to improve it instead of hide it,” I beamed at him.

Monique got the dye and began working on my hair. She put this weird bonnet thing with small holes everywhere on my head, pulled hair through, and started coloring it. She talked to me, keeping the conversation light and asking things like how I knew Kyle and how old I was. The process was lengthy, but Kyle waited patiently. Monique eventually washed my hair, dried it, and left it down. She turned me toward the mirror, and I finally saw my hair. There were bright pink streaks all through my blond hair, and it looked awesome.

I ran to where Kyle was sitting. He had just stood up, and I threw myself at him, hugging him.

“Thank you!” I squealed. “I love it!” He chuckled as he carefully placed his hand on my back to return the hug.

“No problem,” he said, brushing off my thanks. When I let go of him, he went over to Monique and paid for it. I hadn’t even processed the fact that it would cost money and immediately felt guilty. I knew I didn’t have the money to pay for it. He thanked Monique and then headed back toward the exit where I was standing.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I tried to tone my excitement down.

“It’s okay. I wanted to.”

Kyle took me to a diner after, and we ate burgers and fries. We didn’t talk a lot, but every so often I would catch him watching me. He was probably waiting for me to break like I had yesterday, but I wasn’t going to—not yet, anyway. He’d distracted me from my problems by giving me something I had wanted to do for a long time. He’d made me take control of something in my life that I could for the time being, and it had felt good.