3/4, Rain
Author: kat_sor
Rating: Older Teen..
Summary: Rain can bring a new beginning, but it has the tendency to whisk them away before the chance can be taken. And sometimes, just sometimes, that chance would have changed something. In a world of games and rides, sometimes rain brings more bad than good.
A/N: Enjoy. Disclaimer: Song "Made To Live" by Switchfoot.
~*~
In truth, I suppose I was being a bit inconsiderate, what with the whole “Adam. Sweetheart. Baby. No.” thing. But, also in truth, I can’t get attached like that again. I’m past the “let’s talk it all out and be best buds” phase. That was from when I wasn’t over him yet. Now, I am.
Aren’t I?
I mean, I have to be over him. There’s no way I couldn’t be. I didn’t feel anything when he put his arms around me. Right?
The beginning of a headache throbbing in the front of my forehead, I sigh and plop down onto my bunk bed, coincidentally bashing the back of my head into the bottom of the top bunk. This doesn’t make my headache any better, and I receive several strange looks before I sheepishly lie down on top of my blanket.
It’s only ten. I don’t recall ever being in bed before ten during State Fair the previous year, but, that was then. This is now. I toss my phone from hand to hand, lightly playing with it in hopes it will distract me.
As my phone buzzes, I glance at the screen. Blake Sinclair. Damn it. It buzzes again. A call rather than a text. Fun.
“Hello?”
“Hey, can you come downstairs?” he asks softly.
“Yeah. Be right down.” I hang up, and pad across the room to the door. Remembering my room pin-which I had tossed in my locker-I skip back to retrieve it, and then out the door.
Nearing the bottom of the stairs, I stop short. Adam and Blake are huddled by the door, in a silent argument. Neither has seen me so I maintain to keep it that way.
“Blake, listen to me. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea,” Adam hisses first, slowly and dangerously.
“No. You don’t get it. Unless you talk to her you’ll never get your feelings across,” Blake argues. “She’s a girl, not a psychic.”
“How would you know what she wants?”
“Because I’ve been friends with her for longer than you have been. Stop being a pansy, Adam.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Of course I understand. I get that she needs space.” Blake takes a step back and leans against a trash can. “Big fucking whoop, Adam. She’s always going to need space but if you give her too much she won’t ever come back.”
“Do you think maybe I don’t want her to come back?”
“Oh please, like you honestly believe that. Adam, you’re being an ass. Man up and deal-your ex hates your guts.” I’ve heard enough. It seems like as good a time as ever to step in.
“She doesn’t hate your guts, but obviously you hate hers.” Both Blake and Adam whirl around and I gape at them, eyes wide. “If you wanted me gone, you could have ignored me.” I take a step forward, an eyebrow raised.
“Jen, don’t say that.”
“I’m just saying what you want me to say. Just like during the breakup,” I spit at him. I place both hands on my hips and lock my jaw.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You didn’t catch on, did you?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t honestly think I wanted to get dumped. I didn’t want our relationship to be over. I just thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Why would you agree to somethi-”
“Let me finish,” I interrupt. “Blake told me that you would ‘hate me forever’ if I put you through anymore of that B-S, so I decided that maybe it would be better for you if we broke up. I was thinking of you, Adam. Not for myself.”
“You think I wanted to break up?” Adam takes a few steps toward me, confusion etched across his face. “You have no idea how much that killed me.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“You deserved love. You still do.”
“Don’t give me that crap, Adam. Don’t tell me it had nothing to do with, I don’t know, that little date you had with, what was her name?”
“Don’t bring Sam into this.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying, obviously there were other reasons.”
“I told you, the date was awkward. Very awkward.”
“You never did tell me why it was awkward, Adam. Please, tell me. I’m dying to know,” I sneer, tossing my hair over my shoulder. We are inches apart now, our anger magnetic forces between us. And it sucks, because the last time we were this close, I took the initiative and kissed him. It was a sad excuse, but I’ve learned.
“How do you think it feels, Jen,” Adam begins, his voice low, “to be on a date with someone you haven’t seen in nearly ten months?”
“I don’t know. Strangely appealing.” My voice mirrors his. “Because I know exactly how that feels.”
“Do you know how awkward it is to be dancing and all of a sudden have her ass in your crotch? I don’t think so.”
“If I recall, Adam, that’s exactly how my prom went down.”
“No. We were together then. It was alright. This … this … it was just …” Grasping for words, he drops his head. “For lack of a better word, it was extremely uncomfortable.”
“But why? Sam’s a pretty girl. You should have run with it. You were single, she was single …” Something in my chest hurts, but I ignore it. Obviously, my love hasn’t dissipated yet.
“Because I didn’t want to!”
“Why?!”
“Jen. You’re not going to understand, regardless of how many times I explain it.”
“Adam.” My voice is not venomous anymore; instead, a softer tone escapes my mouth. “Adam, just make me see what’s going on …” And, from out of nowhere-despite my lack of enthusiasm for it-tears well up in my eyes. “Damn it.”
“Don’t cry …”
“Do you think I want to!?” I hastily wipe tears from beneath my eyes and sniff loudly. After collecting myself, I blurt, “Okay. So, basically, I’ve decided that-within the past five minutes-my headache has become an extreme pain, and this is not making it any better. So, I think maybe I’m going to go to bed and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to just leave this,” Adam pleads firmly. “Jen, please …”
“What are we going to do, then?”
“I don’t know. But not this …”
“When you figure it out, text me. Until then, let’s let it drop.” I turn away and begin to ascend the stairs to the dorms.
“Jen …”
Without turning around, I call, “Good night, Adam.”
But it wouldn’t be for either of us.
~*~
I stare at the bottom of the bunk above mine. Did I just seriously walk away from the boy I want nothing more than to be near? I hold my iPod off to the side and hit the fast forward button. It skips to the next song.
“I just don’t understand, Amber.” Voices from down the corridor break me from my reverie. “Why’s he trying so hard for her and yet he pushed me away?” Sara.
“Don’t ask me,” Amber shrugs. “She’s not trying half as hard as you were to win him back.”
“She’s freaking stalking him, though.”
“No, she’s really not …”
“They’re always in the same place at the same time. I saw them in the horse barn.” I raise an eyebrow. “He was crying. He only cries when he’s scared.”
“… Or heartbroken,” Amber suggests. “Her words hit him pretty hard.”
“What, the ‘I love you’ part or the ‘I don’t give a damn’ part?”
“Way to eavesdrop,” she murmurs. “They’re fighting. I doubt they’re going to get back together anyways, so stop worrying.”
“She’s competition.”
“What are you talking about? Are you high? I thought I told you not to smoke …”
“No, I’m not high. I’m talking sense here, shush. She’s pretty, and they’ve obviously got a history … and guys always want what they can’t have.”
“Oh yeah, you’re talking real sense.”
“You can’t disagree. She’s really pretty.”
“I know she is. I’m mad jealous of her. But that doesn’t mean Adam’s going to go after her.”
“He already is.”
“Eh. I don’t know what to tell you …”
“I’m tired.”
“I think we should sleep.”
“Good plan.”
They walk to their beds, the bunks right next to mine, and I pretend to sleep. It’s not worth another fight. If Sara is going to confront me, she can do it tomorrow.
~*~
“Rise and shine, Jen!” Amber greets me the next morning. Music from outside the dorms fills my ears. The talent show is in full swing. That means that it is seven-thirty. That means I have thirty minutes to get ready and eat breakfast before judging. This isn’t good.
“Shit.”
“Hello to you, too.”
“No, not like that. I slept in. I don’t have time to get ready now …” I run a hand through my hair haphazardly. “I don’t have time to shower and do my makeup and stuff.”
“You don’t need it. Just wash your face and go. Go, go!” Amber pushes me toward the bathroom and pulls my duffel bag out from beneath my bed. “I’ll get your clothes. You’ll be fine.”
“Okay … if you’re sure.”
“Of course I’m sure. Go!”
“Fine!” I groan and grab my washcloth and facial cleanser from my locker. After hurriedly washing my face and running a brush through my hair, I proceed to catch the clothes Amber tosses to me and change in a stall. Fully clothed, I emerge from the bathroom and find my flip flops.
“See? Done in ten. It’s so great when you have the ability to do that. Now go.”
“Okay …” I slip on my shoes and make sure I have my backpack before I skip from the dorms. Outside the door to the girls’ dormitory is the person I least want to see.
I walk by him and down the stairs, ignoring his pleading gaze. I would deal with him later. Maybe when I had a little bit more inner strength.
But right now, I needed breakfast.
~*~
“Wow, that’s absolutely beautiful.” I hold up a framed picture. “I know I’m not a judge, but I’d definitely give it a blue.” The woman in front of me smiles and nods.
“It’s definitely finished,” she says with a slightly Russian accent. “I like how she used different shades of blue and grey to portray the emotions she wrote on the card. Absolutely blue.” I pin a blue ribbon to the card and carry it back to the county.
“Jen, I’d like to talk to you,” Sara murmurs, taking the picture from me as I hold it out.
“I’m sorry, Sara, but I’m a tad busy right now. Maybe later, okay?”
“Sure. But it’s about Adam.”
“In that case, there is nothing to talk about.” I transfer my attention to gathering more art projects, while she follows me.
“Look, I know he still likes you. Or, rather, is still talking to you, and I have another story that you need to hear, and-”
“I’m done with your stories. I really need to have a drama-free Fair, okay?”
“Would you just hear me out? You were the reason the friendship ended, you know. And besides that, you need to know about my boyfriend.”
“Congrats.”
“It’s Adam.”
Like hell it is.