Page 53 of When The Rain Falls

"Nine-thirty," I say. "Sharp."

"Ok. See you at ten!" Ruby yells as she runs towards the front door of the auditorium. She's stomping indelicately in her kitten heels. A skinny boy in a suit approaches Ruby and Julie. His hair is a thick, unruly mop on his head. I feel my shoulders tense as he exchanges words with the girls. I briefly wonder if that’s Rocky. I don't have much time to investigate, though, because they quickly disappear inside. And that's it. My daughter just walked into her first high school dance. I can't help but feel like she's walked into a den of hungry wolves. She doesn't even look back to give me a wave. Not the way she used to do when I dropped her off at school.

"They're adorable," Aimee says, watching out the window as I drive away.

I don’t say anything. I’m trying not to spiral. My daughter has the body of a woman and I just dropped her off in a hormoneinfested cesspool. Is this how it's supposed to be? You just let them out into the wild and hope that they make smart choices? Anxiety rises like bile in my throat. I wish Laurel was here. To see her. To do this with me.

The stinging is back in my eyes. My heart starts to race and my head feels hot. My knuckles turn white as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.Is this what a panic attack feels like?

"You ok?" Aimee asks as she plays with the stereo.

"Fine," I growl at her. Except, I don't recognize my voice. My heart feels like someone doused it with gasoline and shoved a match deep into one of its chambers. All the muscles in my back and chest tighten up at once. My vision starts to blur around the edges. It's probably not safe for me to drive like this.

When we reach the driveway to a ballpark near the school, I pull off the road and park on the gravel. Aimee looks up at me confused.

"I need a minute," I tell her, unbuckling my seatbelt and stepping out of the van.

18ICE CREAM, ALCOHOL, & SEX

AIMEE

The heart-shaped charmis still swinging from the rear view mirror from the force of Finn shutting the door. It's eerily dark on this street. And now that I'm alone in this van, it's a bit eerie in here, too. Almost like I'm about to be kidnapped or something. Except thatI’m the onesitting in a creepy van on the side of a dark road a block from a high school. Shit, I probably look like the kidnapper.

I'm not sure what happened. I’m not sure why we’re stopped here. I’m also not sure what I’m supposed to do. I guess I wait for him to come back? But I rarely do what I’m supposed to. Which is why I find myself unbuckling my seatbelt and opening my door.

Patience may be a virtue. But so is curiosity.

"Bear?" I call out to the twilight sky as I step down from the van.

He doesn't answer, so I walk around the van to the driver's side and that's where I find him. His back against the van. His head lowered to the ground. Muscular, strong, and silent.

I think I finally know why they call it a crush. Because right now, it feels like my heart and my lungs are being squeezed together. It's nearly impossible to breathe and I can hear eachindividual heartbeat in my chest. It truly does feel like I'm being crushed. But almost from the inside out.

"Hey," I say cooly as I approach.

He lifts his head and brushes a hand across his face. That's when I notice that his cheek is wet. The light from the gibbous moon betrays what he's trying to hide. Trails of remnant tears. The sight does something unexpected to me. It hits me in the chest and I feel like I've been sent tumbling to the ground like a bird shot from the sky. I usually do everything in my power to avoid sadness. But right now, I can't walk away. I'm falling helplessly from the sky and Finn's turmoil is the Earth pitching wildly below me.

"Get back in the van," he barks, looking down at his feet. But the bark is hollow. More wounded animal than dangerous.

"You ok?" I ask, taking a step towards him. Even as the words pass from my lips I realize how stupid they sound. Of course he's not ok. He's a grown man crying on the side of the road. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grown man cry. And definitely not a man asgrownas Finn. And I hate it. I find myself desperate to comfort him.

"I'm fucking fine," he grumbles, clearly embarrassed. I feel like it’s a bad time to remind him thatI’m fineis the most frequently told lie in the English language. I draw closer. One step. Then another. Tentatively closing the distance.

He hears me coming and his body bristles. "Aimee." My name is a warning across his lips. But I’ve never been the kind of person who scares easily. And there’s something sad in his voice that tells me he might need something. Maybe just an ear. Maybe just a warm body to ward off the isolation of being sad. Unfortunately, I recognize all these things from recent experience.

I take a spot next to him, leaning up against the cold panel of his van, our shoulders touching. He sighs with obvious annoyance. I feel surrounded by a silence that is full of turmoil.

Finn shifts his broad shoulders. He sighs and rubs a hand across his jaw. "We were supposed to do this together," he finally says, his face rising to the sky. "But I'm here. Doing it all. And she’s missing it.”

Finn rubs the back of his head thoughtfully. Then he pulls back a curtain that he seems to keep drawn tightly. “All these milestones were supposed to be...I don't know. Nothing was supposed to be like this." He takes in a breath and chokes on it, like he's trying to stop more tears. I want to fight the demons clamoring for control in his head. But I don’t know how.

"I had everything, Aimee. I fucking had everything.” He holds his hands out, palms up. Empty. I know exactly how that feels. I feel empty, too.

I lean my head back against the van and study the worried crease between his eyebrows and the way his full lips are pinched together. Our emptiness is not the same. His comes from loss. And mine comes from being lost. Because I don’t know where my life is going. I don’t have anything permanent. I’m hit with a sickening wave of envy. Because in order to lose something, you have to have something meaningful in your life to lose.

It’salmostfunny. He’s lived so much life. He’s, apparently, loved really deeply. And I’ve done none of that. I’ve just been chasing thrills. Having fun. Living life on the surface.

Still leaning against the van, I roll my body to face him. I want to keep rolling. Until our bodies collide. Until I can feel every inch of his body, coiled, strong, protective, against mine. “You talk like your life is over,” I say in a hushed tone. “But it’s not. There’s still plenty of time. You can have everything again.”I think I say these things because I want to believe them for myself. I want to believe I can have everything.

---