Page 7 of Falling Too Late

I loved falling asleep to the rain. It was cleansing.

It washed away everything: the dirt that accumulated up on the sidewalk from the walking traffic, chalk from the kid’s recess. It was the reason the dandelions grew and the canal was full.

The front door opened then closed.

Kevin was back.

The jingle of keys dropping on the counter.

Boots walked the short distance to my room.

“Hey, baby.”

Then the door shut, and my nightmare started.

His weight lifted from the bed as he retreated from my room. I faintly heard his belt clink as the roaring in my ears lessened. My mother’s bedroom door opened, and the TV droned for a minute before the door was shut again.

He was in a foul mood today.

On shaky arms, I lifted myself from the bed. Even after all these years, it still hurt every time. I would never understand why people willingly had sex. Every time Kevin left my room, I was raw and sore.

I clutched my pajamas to my chest and went to the bathroom, pushing the button lock as soon as I closed the door. The pipes rattled and hissed before the water sputtered out of the showerhead in all different directions due to the hard water build up.

I place the shampoo and bodywash on the edge of the dingy tub before climbing in, closing the mildew-covered shower curtain. I let the water pelt my body. It felt like I was standing in a hot hailstorm. It hurt my skin, but it displaced the pain away from between my legs. I reached forward, bracing myself against the shower wall and, with my free hand, reached between my legs and washed the sliminess away. Attempting to wash away the feel of him inside me.

I couldn’t ever enjoy a long shower because one of them ends up pounding on the door, so I quickly washed my hair and body, drying off with my threadbare towel before tying my hair up and slipping into my clothes.

I brushed my teeth and then cupped in my hands under the faucet and drank greedily before returning to my room. Tucked under my covers, my hair still wrapped in the towel, I lay in bed staring out the window, the only light coming from the streetlights.

I think of the boy I met today, Alex, and his warm brown eyes. He didn’t hesitate to help me even though he didn’t need to, and I wonder if there are other people like him out in the world.

CHAPTER 5

ALEX

Every other day,I met Wren at the canal, and she’d give me a copy of the finished biology homework. I really didn’t care to take the biology homework, I didn’t want to use it to get a good grade, but it was my excuse to see her. I could tell she was smart. Every time I got the homework handed back to me, it was an A. I liked to stare at her handwriting. It was a mix of print and cursive. Neat in some areas and then it would get kind of messy. Like her hand couldn’t keep up with what she was thinking.

I started to try and mimic her handwriting. Writing my name repeatedly until it matched her writing. The way herl’s had big loops along with herh’s. Sometimes herm’s would have extra humps in them when she wrote too fast and got a little sloppy.

We never stuck around very long after she handed me the homework, but I did learn that her dad had also died.?

We had an understanding then. We were similar in more ways than I had realized.??

We were both members of the Dead Dad’s Club.As morbid as it was, it made me feel something.

I’d started to look forward to seeing her every other day, but on my way home that day, I didn’t see her. I thought maybe I gothere before her. Like maybe I was so excited that I rushed to see her. So, I waited.

And waited.??

And waited.??

I waited until the sun dipped below the horizon. When she didn’t show, I finally went home. The next morning, I woke early, rushed out the door, and got to our spot. I hoped she would pass this way on her way to school. I waited until I couldn’t wait any longer, or else I would be tardy for class.Too many tardies would get me a write-up that I would have to get signed by my mom, and I wasn’t good at faking her signature.

Her absence consumed my thoughts. I walked through the halls between classes and tried to catch a glimpse of her. I looked for her long, wavy jet-black hair and that blue backpack with the Sharpie stains on it, but not once did I see her.

“Hey, do you know a girl named Wren?” I caved and asked Jonathan on the second consecutive week of her absence.I didn’t want to ask him. I didn’t need his or Chance's shit, which they were bound to give me. Especially about me looking for a girl.

Chance was a nuisance I had to deal with whenever I was with Jon anymore. He’d transferred into our school at the beginning of this year and, because their dads knew each other, he was always around.

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