United States

stressed and sarcastic star gazer. geeky and goofy gryffindor. bold and bright bisexual.

one step at a time

May 4, 2019


0- We stand on the sidewalk, well not the sidewalk. She and I stand on the curb, debating whether we should make the half an hour walk or wait for a ride. We dash across to the muddy field when no cars are coming.
1- I say if it's drizzling, it's going to pour. The sky is tumultous. One particularly aangry cloud pulsates to the sound of umbrellas opening and cars starting. 
2- She says we should walk anyway. A little rain never hurt anyone, and besides. Waiting for ride would be like giving in to the weather. We are not quitters. We are fighters. 
3- When she puts it like that, in two arguements that appeal to me, I am forced to agree. We begin to walk, my long legs accounting for three strides in the time it takes her to make two. 
4- Between talk of homework and the future, I berate her mercilessly as rain drops fall heavy now. It takes four seconds to open my umbrella, but yet that is four seconds that the crying universe is allowed to touch me. It leaves me shivering. 
5- We reach an intersection, huddling close to keep warm. She smiles, a face brighter than the weather. It remains stretched from cheekbone to cheekbone as the light turns red. We and five other rain splattered idiots cross the street. 
6- I nudge her, a subtle look. He is there, the guy I have liked for two years but never talk to. Unlike us, he isn't prepared for the rain. Hair sticks to his forehead, his glasses foggy. I estimate there are six feet between us, and my friend has to hold me back from getting too close. 
7- He gets into a car, and I watch him go, rather stalker-esque. At this point, we are soaked through, even with rain coats and umbrellas. I fall against my friend's shoulder, laughing at my own stupid crush. She laughs too. Our happy mood turns somber however as I remind her that we are still seven weeks away from the end of school. It feels like an eternity. 
8- This is our friendship I think. A constant in a wave of ups and downs. She videos my eight count ode to "Singing in the Rain." My dancing is subpar but it took our minds away from school. That's always a plus. 
9- We arrive at pur destination which is somewhere at some time. It is a quick walk, 9 streets, but a pretty straightshot from high school. It's easy and yet I cannot help but to think that this rainy afternoon was a metaphor for life or perhaps time or death or some other Big Idea™ that writers like to allude to. Yes it was thunderstorms, and yes it was utterly cold and gray, but it was love and it was laughter and it was memories. 


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