For the Love of Raindrops Page 4

  “Let’s go sit on the porch,” she shrugs, “you know, for old time’s sake.”

  Gripping her elbow, I help her up from the sofa before we make our way outside. It’s a beautiful night. The black sky is lit by a spattering of stars. I pass her a spoon as we take a seat on the top step and huddle together, a brush of hips and shoulders.

  “I only eat this when I’m with you,” I tell her, and the sweet smile that graces her lips makes me quiver. “I kind of feel like it’s our thing,” I admit, bumping her shoulder with my own.

  “It is our thing,” she says, grinning, “just like stargazing.”

  “Remember when we were kids and you made that wish about your braces?” I chuckle, and she can’t help but smile in return.

  “Yes, of course I remember.”

  “So, Hopper,” I said, “what’s your wish tonight? There are some really big stars in the sky.”

  “I know, and I’ve got my wish all prepared,” she replied with a giant grin, pulling her jacket tighter over her shoulders to fight the cold.

  “Come on, tell me what it is,” I coaxed, nudging her with my arm.

  She huffed out a breath and her shoulders slumped forward. “I’ll only tell you if you promise not to laugh and you don’t share it with anyone.”

  I turned to her and ruffled her hair, causing her bangs to fall in her eyes. “Since when do I tell anyone?” I sighed. “Okay, pinky swear,” I said, and we locked our little fingers together in a solemn oath.

  “Okay, my wish is that an angel comes down from the sky while I’m sleeping and rips off these awful braces.”

  My face scrunched tight at the thought of how that might feel. “I think that having them ripped off would hurt. That’s kind of a scary wish.”

  “Maybe,” she shrugged, “but you don’t know what it’s like having these things and having everyone call you ‘metal mouth.’”

  “Why do you care so much about what everyone else thinks? I’m the only one who matters,” I joked, “and I think they make you extra special because no one else we know gets to have a silver mouth.”

  “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have, Dills,” she said, giving me a big kiss on the cheek and making me never want to wash my face again, just so I could keep her kiss on me forever.

  “That was a very sadistic wish, Evie. I mean, the visual of that, well, we’re talking horror movie.” I glance over at her. She looks so pretty, the moonlight casting a glow on her porcelain skin.

  She laughs and takes another spoonful of ice cream, shivering when the cold hits her teeth. “I guess, but I hated those braces, and besides, it made it impossible to kiss anyone.”

  She has no idea how badly I wanted to kiss her back then, and how much I want to kiss her right now. I didn’t care that her mouth was filled with metal. Evie was fun, and she made me laugh. She was always interested in what I had to say, even when no one else seemed to care.

  When I say no one, I mean my parents. Nothing was ever enough for them, not where I was concerned. My father rode me, always on my ass about trying harder, doing better. His words still ring out in my head, making me cringe. ‘Don’t be such a pussy, Dylan. Don’t be afraid to swing the bat. Hold it higher. Make contact. Make contact!’

  My mother, well, she was completely oblivious when it came to me. She lived in her own little world. I wish I knew where she went half the time.

  Yet it was never difficult with Jordan. He was the all-time favorite of the family. There were only two of us, but it was pretty obvious who they cherished. He was the first born, six years my senior, and the one who got all the attention lavished on him. When I came along, it was almost like an afterthought. Except for my father’s consistent riding, I might as well have been invisible.

  I earned pretty good grades but they weren’t impressed. So I pushed harder, hoping they would see me. But they never did. The only thing I ever heard was ‘Jordan got another A,’ or ‘Jordan made all-star little league,’ or ‘Jordan hit another home run.’ The most I got was the motivational ‘you’ll need to do better next time’ speech from my father, which I guess was a marked improvement from the ever-present coldness my mother had perfected.

  I never blamed Jordan though because it wasn’t his fault. It’s just the way things worked out. He’s always been great to me and even tried to compensate for their lack of attention, so I can’t fault him, ever.

  “So what’s your wish tonight? Those are some big-ass stars. I’m thinking there’s a ninety percent chance that it’ll come true.” I dig my spoon into the ice cream until I find the fudge.

  She narrows her eyes at me and clinks her spoon against mine. “Hey, don’t take all the fudge. That’s my favorite part.”

  “Open.” I hold the spoon out and she opens her mouth. The idea of feeding her gets my juices flowing.

  “Mmmm.” She moans and closes her eyes, making me want to be that ice cream right now. Maybe that’ll be my wish.

  “Okay, you’re getting distracted by your fudge orgasm,” I tease, and her eyes pop open in surprise, a smirk tugging at her lips.

  “Fudge orgasm,” she giggles, “nice.” She pauses for another dollop of ice cream. “Okay, I’m going to make my wish now.” She closes her eyes again and I take a moment to watch her thick lashes settle on her cheekbones, her lips parting slightly. A tiny breath escapes them as she concentrates. “Okay, I’m done.”

  “What did you wish for?” I scratch the back of my neck, anxious as I meet her eyes and desperate to know her thoughts.

  “I can’t tell because it won’t come true. Your turn,” she counters, and then places the pint of ice cream down between us, tapping the spoon against her full upper lip.

  “Hmph, what to wish for….” My eyes dart around the porch and land on her briefly before glancing back up at the sky. I close my eyes and wish for Evie.

  “So,” she head-butts me from the side, “what did you wish for?”

  “Oh, no,” I reply with a smug grin, “no way. I’m not sharing either. I’m not taking any chances. I really want mine to come true.”

  “Must be a good one.” She keeps her gaze focused on the night sky, her hair falling down her back, red highlights shimmering in the moonlight.

  My eyes don’t stray from the sky when I answer, not wanting to give anything away. “Oh yes, trust me, it was.”

  The heat of her stare slides over my skin. “Well, if you told me, you’d probably have a better chance of it coming true, but whatever.”

  We’re quiet for a while as we both remain lost in the sky, all of its mystery and wonder. Yet I can’t help but think that when I’m with Evie, I never feel lost at all.

  After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she turns to face me. “Do you ever think that your mom is up there somewhere? You know, looking down on you, watching over you?”

  Staring up into the night, I ponder her question. “Honestly, I don’t know. She didn’t really look at me too much while she was here.” Anger burns through my words which Evie picks up on right away. She reaches over and curls her fingers around mine, making my heart speed up, and at the same time, easing the dull ache in my chest.

  “I’m sorry, Dylan. That always made me so mad that they focused so much on Jordan and never noticed that they had another son.” She gives my hand a gentle squeeze and catches my eyes. “An amazing son.”

  “Whatever. I’m pretty sure I was a disappointment to them,” I shrug, “and now I’ll never know anyway.”

  Her head sways to the side as she studies me. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “You act like how they treated you doesn’t matter, that you’re still not upset or hurt. Like you didn’t want more, deserve more.” A frown hardens her mouth and the creases of her eyes. “It’s crap, Dylan.”

  “Okay,” I admit, “so it still pisses me off.” And then I laugh, but it sounds maniacal and her expression shifts from anger to confusion. “But you know what’s even more crappy
? Remember that day I almost fought Rob Tefrey? He was talking shit about them and I actually defended them. Go figure.”

  “Of course you did.” Her tone melts into concern. “You wanted to protect them. It’s instinctual. Just like it should have been for them, with you. That’s what parents are supposed to do—protect and love their children.”

  “Are they?” I can’t disguise the sarcasm in my voice. “You know what? My mother died and my father is gone to who-the-hell-knows where, so I just don’t know what dwelling on it—”

  “Hey, beautiful,” an unwelcome voice breaks into our moment, “plans changed. There’s a party at my house, you want to come?” Jamie’s BMW is pulled up in front of the house, his head resting on his arm as he leans out the open window. From the glow of the streetlight, I can see his beady eyes are honed in on Evie as though I’m invisible.

  She holds up a finger to the douchebag before addressing me. “I still want to talk about this. I don’t need to go to some stupid party, anyway. Do you want me to stay?” Her tone shouts sincerity but instead of answering honestly, I reply with bullshit.

  “No, you go ahead, I’m fine.”

  Her eyes narrow and bore into mine as if second-guessing me. “Okay… if you’re sure.”

  “Yeah.” I stand up at the same time she does, our fingers still joined. “I’ll catch you later, Hopper. Just watch out for him.” I kick a piece of loose cement on the ground. “I wouldn’t want to have to hurt him if he tried anything… well, that you don’t want him to.”

  She opens her mouth like she wants to say something else, but then closes it and removes her hand from mine. I already miss it, and as I watch her drive away in the BMW, I miss her, too.

  WITH THE TELEVISION as my companion, I’m hanging out on the sofa drinking a Coke and working on a rocket that Wanda bought for me. I got my first rocket when I was fourteen. After three fistfights, Mr. Thomson, the counselor in the after-school program, thought I needed something to do with my hands. And he was right. For whatever reason, I couldn’t bring myself to draw, so building rockets became my passion. Jordan has the gift of numbers and math, whereas my strength has always been to create. Grandma Molly used to say it was because I was left-handed, and lefties are creative by nature.

  The noise of the television fades into the background when Jordan walks in and flings himself in the chair across from me. I immediately shut the TV off and toss the remote on the couch.

  “What’s up, bro? Where were you?”

  He kicks back, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “I stopped by Liza’s house to see if she wanted to hang out but she was in a mood.”

  I scratch my head then lace my hands behind my neck. “What was her problem?”

  Jordan rolls his eyes, shaking his head from side-to-side. “I have no idea. She had some kind of an attitude and wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. She seemed like she wanted to be alone so I took off.”

  I chuckle to myself, recalling what Evie said to me. “You know, Evie suggested I ask Wanda’s niece out,” I mention with a smirk, and Jordan laughs.

  “That’s a good one, she’s totally not your type,” he snickers, “considering she’s not Evie and all,” he adds, standing up and heading to the kitchen. “You want another soda?”

  “No thanks. I’m set.” I pick the rocket up by its base, balancing it on my palm. He walks back into the living room and flips the cap off the beer before taking a seat next to me on the sofa.

  “So, is this a kick-ass rocket or what? I saw in that rocket magazine I get that there’s a group of guys that shoot off rockets at one of the beaches. I was thinking about maybe checking it out. Sounds a bit dorky though, huh?”

  “No, not at all. And that one looks like it could go a serious distance.” He chuckles. “Thank God for Mr. Thomson and those rockets. Speaking of which, do you still keep in touch with Luke Bain?”

  My fingers instinctively travel to the rough scar on my jaw. “Nah. We lost touch a few years back.” That unfortunately makes my father come to mind. Luke and I met at the center. A place I never would have ended up if it weren’t for my father. “Hey Jordy, do you miss Dad? I mean, you know I don’t, but you must, right?”

  His entire body stiffens. “Honestly, at first I did. But, now, well, it’s ancient history and I just don’t think about it anymore. He made his choice, and it wasn’t us.”

  I want to say it wasn’t you, because I never factored into that equation.

  “So, are you going to paint it?” He’s obviously as anxious as I am to move on from this conversation.

  “Yup, I am.” I place it back on the table. “Hey, since it’s early, why don’t we go out?”

  “Go where?”

  “Let’s go out to the beach and check out Jamie’s party.” I’m gunning for nonchalant but I know he can see right through me.

  “Since when do you want to go anywhere near Jamie? Stalking Evie again?” He takes a long pull of his beer, his lips contorting into a knowing grin.

  “Yeah, pretty much. I don’t have anything better to do anyway. I’m bored as shit. Come on, let’s go.”

  “Fine,” he concedes, quickly draining the last of the bottle. “I do know his dumbass brother. But still, hanging out with a bunch of nineteen-year-olds? You owe me one.”

  I think I owe him a lot of ones.

  TURNING ONTO THE private Pacific Heights road, the wrought iron gates and sprawling driveways leading up to the houses let you know you’re entering a whole other world; one where every luxury is at your fingertips, where someone will wipe your ass if that’s what you need, as long as you pay for it.

  Jamie’s palatial mansion is no exception. He lives with his parents but you’d never know it. He treats the house like it’s his bachelor pad, and I’m not even sure they give a shit as long as he stays out of their hair. It’s actually pretty pathetic, and my gut does a steady churn because the situation is all too familiar.

  Once we reach the driveway that doubles as a parking lot, I squint in the darkness, attempting to locate Jamie’s BMW. Not an easy task considering every other car here is a BMW or a Mercedes. My truck is an eye-sore in comparison.

  “Are you sure you really want to be here?” Jordan climbs out of the truck and slams the door.

  I come around to the passenger side, shoving the keys in my back pocket. “Yeah, why the hell not? We’ve got nothing better to do, right?”

  He smirks, looking me over with a shake of his head. “Whatever you say, little brother, whatever you say.”

  I know exactly what he’s thinking, and he’s right. I don’t trust that piece of shit Harrington, and I want to make sure Evie’s okay. Even if it means subjecting myself to people I can’t stand.

  The front door of the house is wide open, giving us a view of the massive foyer and spiral staircase complete with crystal chandelier. There must be at least a hundred people here. Music is blaring and alcohol is flowing. Cigarette smoke fills my nose, while the scent of disrespect weighs heavily in the air.

  “I’m going to find my way through this lavish maze and get myself a drink,” Jordan yells, “you want one?”

  “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” I’m standing in the middle of the entryway with my hands deep in my pockets like a fish out of water. What the hell am I doing here?

  That’s the question I’m asking myself when I spot Evie out of the corner of my eye, the glint of her auburn hair catching my attention. She’s standing in the archway to the kitchen and Jamie is right next to her, his arm hooked over her shoulder possessively while he gulps down whatever he’s got in that red Solo cup. My fingers flex at my sides. Instinct tells me to go pull him into a headlock and drag him to a nearby closet, but I know that wouldn’t solve anything and it won’t get me what I want. I turn abruptly in the opposite direction and smack into a black-haired beauty, complete with fiery red lips and a huge rack.

  “Excuse me, gorgeous!” she flirts, her breasts brushing against my chest. “You look like you could us
e a drink.”

  For a split second, my brain thinks she could be a good diversion or even a way to try to make Evie jealous. But, they’d both have to want me for that to happen. Plus, I’m not one for playing games, and I certainly don’t want to play games with Evie.

  “Thanks, sweetheart, but not tonight.”

  “Suit yourself.” She leans in and kisses my cheek, her lips lingering there. “Mmmm… you smell like French fries,” she whispers. “I love French fries. Later, gorgeous.”

  Nice.

  After a subtle glance around the room, I lift my arm and do a quick inhale. I thought I managed to scrub the diner from my skin but I guess that shit just doesn’t go away. The realization hits me hard and I’m about to walk outside to get some fresh air when a gentle hand taps on my shoulder. I turn my head and come face-to-face with the most brilliant smile, my very own ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. My heart knocks loudly against my chest, so loud I’m afraid she can hear it.

  “Dills! What are you doing here?” Evie kisses my cheek, the texture of her lips so different from the brunette’s, a buzz to my skin causing a prickle to climb up my spine. A strand of hair sneaks out and she tucks it behind her ear, then takes a sip of her drink.

  “I’m slummin’ it, what else?” And she laughs, her head falling back, the smooth skin of her neck beckoning me. “Where’s Harrington?” I manage to sound casual, even though I’m practically baring my teeth.

  “He’s chatting with a friend of his. He’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Good. So, since I have you all to myself,” I grin, “feel like taking a walk outside? I was just told I smell like a French fry so I’m trying to air out a little.” I extend my arm and she links elbows with me but not before she moves closer and sniffs my shirt.

  “You don’t smell like a French fry.” She leans her head against my shoulder as we walk outside. “You smell like you.”

  I stop in my tracks and shift to face her. “And what exactly do I smell like?”

  “Let’s see… hmph….” She taps one of her long fingers against her lips and I let my gaze roam there for just a minute before catching her eyes again. “You smell soapy and sweet… with just a hint of French fry.” She giggles and I playfully pinch her arm.