The Weight of Rain (31 page)

I
TRY
to ignore my phone to see if King texts me as I sit in the theater. I’ve carefully propped it in my bag so I can see if the little light goes off, alerting me to a message, but Allie spent the drive here and previews explaining to me how she’s felt ignored and forgotten since Charleigh began dating Brandon. I hate that I understand both of their sides so intimately.

King knows I’m here and I doubt that I’ll hear from him because yesterday when I told him I was going to be working on my portfolio, he didn’t say anything but to enjoy and to send him a few pictures of my work afterward so he could share them. He remained silent for the four hours I worked, creating a picture of his face that I was only able to capture the slightest hint of the lust and longing his eyes had exposed. When I sent him a picture of it, he called within seconds and much to my surprise, we talked for hours. He explained that his meeting had been rescheduled for the next day due to a partner having a family emergency, and that he’d spent the afternoon wandering through Pike’s Place Market, comparing my artwork to others who set up small kiosks and stands where people could have their face drawn for a small fee. We talked about my submission for Italy, and the heels I promised to wear for the next two weeks, into a slightly more substantial discussion about my design for the shop. There were durations of silence we shared as we sought new topics, but neither of us seemed willing to end the conversation. It didn’t matter that we had nothing to share, or that the footing was slightly uncomfortable, sharing our silence was more than enough.

This morning he called after hitting the hotel’s gym, something that is as foreign as Mars for me. Vacation has never equated a workout in my book. We were more flirtatious this morning, our comments daring to cross back over that slight barrier we’ve built up over the past six months until they were nearly forgotten.

I feel like I can’t focus on a single thing other than him. Like every minute detail reminds me of him. I want to tell him about everything I’m seeing and doing. The buzz of anticipation of seeing King tomorrow has my muscles tight and my steps giddy. My chest feels tight with the expansion of swarming thoughts and thrills running through my imagination. New pictures of King are being painted and sketched at nearly every second. And I love every single bit of what I’m feeling.

“Looo.”

I turn in my seat and blink several times to focus on Allie beside me. “Sorry, I’m in creative land.”

“No, you’re in King-dom.” Allie sits back in her seat, her eyes reflecting a sad smile.

“I’m sorry. I swear, I’m having a good time. I want to be here with you.”

“I’m not comparing what you’re experiencing to Charleigh. She just met this guy; you’ve known King for months. Plus she and I have been best friends since freshman year.”

I know she’s justifying her thoughts verbally and that it shouldn’t hurt that she’s said what I’ve already known. But a piece of me envies their relationship. I wish I had someone I could share everything that I’m feeling about King with. “You should tell Charleigh how you’re feeling. I’m sure she’s just caught up in that haze that makes us all a little crazy at the beginning. I know I’m lost in that same fog.”

“But you aren’t giving everything up for him, and you actually know him!” The theater is emptying around us for the intermission between films, and while my mind is itching to see if I’ve heard anything from King, my eyes keep hers, seeing the pain this is inflicting upon her. “Plus, King’s hot. Anyone would be lost in a fog with him.”

“I think King could be scrawny and look sixteen and I’d probably be just as lost.”

“You haven’t seen Brandon, Lo. I’m not kidding when I tell you he looks young.”

“I believe you. I just know that what I feel for King is so much more than physical, I don’t think it would matter.”

She huffs out a reply that tells me she wasn’t looking for anything more than someone to listen to her woes, which makes me feel guilty because I understand that yearning. We don’t always need someone to put things back together for us. Sometimes we just need someone to try to understand our pains and frustrations and validate that what we’re feeling is okay.

“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching across the double armrest and placing my hand on hers. “You’re right. She’s gone to some pretty hefty extremes, and your concern for her and her future is completely justified. You guys are best friends, and while she has a shiny new toy that is fun to play with, she shouldn’t abandon everything else.”

“Exactly!” Allie cries. “What if they break up in a month? What is she going to do? Even if it’s in a year or ten years, she’s still missed this opportunity to follow her dreams.”

I don’t allow the rebuttals in my head to become clear. I simply nod in agreement and settle back into my seat as the next movie’s previews begin.

After the second movie, I take a little extra time in the restroom to check my phone for any missed calls or texts. There aren’t any, and it makes Allie’s previous sentiments more understandable.

I
DON’T
take the time to see who’s calling before I answer. It’s late, and though I’m not sure if Kenzie is home tonight, I feel bad that my phone likely just woke her. “Hello?”

“Are you okay?”

I scrunch my eyes and blink several times before narrowing them and focusing on the alarm clock that’s too bright to clearly view.

“Lo?” The concern in his voice is heightened.

“I’m fine, just sleeping. What’s wrong?” My groggy thoughts are beginning to shift at a quicker speed, traveling directly to Mercedes.

“You said you were going to let me know when you got home.”

I look over to Kenzie’s side of the room as I sit up further and see her bed is vacant. “Sorry, I was hanging out with Allie and then got some work done with my portfolio and just lost track of time.” I’m lying through my teeth. After the third movie with Allie, we did spend some more time together, but my phone was set to the loudest ringtone, and then I went up to my apartment where I attempted to work as the phone stared at me.

At one point I got so desperate I went back downstairs and asked Allie to text me to ensure my phone was actually working—it was. I spent another couple of hours mindlessly flipping through channels until I gave up and went to bed.

“Lo.” My name is spoken quiet and deep: a warning. “I’m twenty-seven. I’m not going to play bullshit games with you. I’ll respect the time you want and need to spend by yourself, but I’m not going to call and text so you know that I’m sitting around twiddling my thumbs and waiting for you. We have a lot to still learn about each other, and while I know you’re not into mind games, you seem to be playing one hell of a mind game with yourself right now, and unfortunately you’re dragging me into it. I will always be honest with you. I won’t take advantage of you, but I need your trust, and I need you to stop trying to set me up to fail. If you tell me you’re going to call me, call.”

My earlier convictions are a cold sweat, drying to my skin and making me feel dirty and contrite. “I’m sorry. I … I’m not used to this.”

“I think I’m realizing there’s a lot you aren’t used to.” His words have so many plausible meanings that I clench my teeth as my temper rises. “I have to stay another day. There’s a store here Kash wants me to check out, and the owner can’t make it in until after they close.”

“Oh.” My tone and heart turn poignant.

“I’ll be in on Tuesday, though. I want to spend some time with you. I know we’re going out Saturday, but stay late a couple of days this week. We’ll watch a movie or something. I really don’t care. I just want us to get past these last few months where we’ve been working to build up these defense walls, and remind each other who we really are. I know I keep saying this, but we have something, Lo, and I
know
you feel it.”

“I’ll burn some popcorn.”

His laugh unwinds my muscles in a quick sequence. “I’ll take care of the food. You just need to worry about letting your guard down, because whether by permission or defeat, I’m getting through.”

My thoughts are a jumbled mess, causing a stretch of silence far less comfortable than ones previous.

“Goodnight, Lo. Sweet dreams. Call me tomorrow when you have some free time. I don’t care if it’s when you wake up or on your way to school or on your way to the house. Don’t overthink it, just do it.”

“You can’t tell you grew up with the Nike headquarters in the same city.”

King releases a sigh that is tainted with a laugh he’s trying to conceal. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Don’t talk yourself out of it.”

“Just do it.” I hear his heavy release of breath and can picture him shaking his head.

We sit in another silence. This time, the familiarity returns along with a giddy anticipation. I can sense his reluctance to hang up because I’m certain my own unwillingness to go is just as obvious.

“I want you to tell me about you. I wish I could be beside you and listen to your past.”

“There isn’t a lot to tell. What do you want to know?” I ask, sliding down in my bed, my feet greeting areas that have gone cold from my absence.

“Everything.”

With the weight of his single word, I know I’ve just crossed beyond my crush status into something far more intricate and deeper than I’ve allowed my thoughts to travel. My heart beats with an equal measure of fear and exhilaration.

“Sleep well, Lo. I hope you draw another thousand pictures of me in your dreams.”

“I draw much faster in my sleep than in real time. It will likely be a few thousand.”

“Good.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Lo.”

Several seconds later, I take a heavy breath and push end with the desire to call him right back dancing through my thoughts.

“L
O
!” E
STELLA
cries as I enter the back of the restaurant with my bag filled with paints and brushes. Her arms encircle me before wrapping around my shoulder and walking me over to where Mia is waiting for an order. “Are you hungry? We just pulled out some chile rellenos.”

“You know you can’t pay me anything when this is done, right? Because I think I’m going to owe you for all that you feed me.”

She laughs, patting my arm as she moves to the sink to wash her hands. “I’ll get you a plate!”

I’m filled with horchata—a sweetened rice milk flavored with cinnamon that I’ve been addicted to since I was first introduced to it when I started here nearly four years ago—and the mound of chile rellenos Estella dished up for me, and painting a flourish of colors to a wide expanse of the wall.

“I thought you were supposed to be wearing heels.”

Lowering my brush to my side, I turn to where King is sitting in a chair pulled up so he’s within just a few feet, a plate of chile rellenos resting in one of his hands.

“How long have you been here?”

King shrugs like the answer is trivial. “I understand why you never learned to cook. I don’t know if I’d have much interest in learning if I ate here every day, either.”

“It’s pretty amazing, right? How was your drive?”

“This might be one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. And thankfully, my drive was fast since that pain in my ass had to delay our meeting again.” He cuts off another bite and looks at me with his dark eyes looking tired but anxious. “How was your day? And where are the shoes?”