Page 160 of We Redeemed the Rain

“Jesse!” The yell hurt my throat. “Jesse!”

My Converse had rubbed a wet blister into the back of my foot, water squishing in and out of my socks with every step through the barnyard. The rain blinded me. I screamed again, “Jesse!”

The heavy rain muted the response. “Bea?!”

His figure appeared in the backlit doorway of the barn, coming toward me. He met me in the barnyard, the downpour leaving blood red drops on his red shirt. He caught me by the elbows as my city treads lost traction in the mud around the barn. He snapped. “What’s wrong?”

“Tag. It’s Tag.” He directed me back toward the barn doors, his hand gripping my forearm. I gasped to steady my breathing, the run leaving me winded.

When we were out of the downpour, he turned to me. “What happened? Is he hurt?”

Cade and Cooper appeared from the stalls, pitchforks in hand.

“We’re parked down the driveway and something happened…I don’t know what…but he’s like completely spaced out.” My voice didn’t accurately portray how panicked I felt. My insides were exploding with fear. “He won’t talk to me, look at me, anything. And he was completely fine a few minutes ago.”

Jesse shook his head. “Get in the gator.”

The gator was parked in the open-air corridor off the side of the barn. Jesse called over his shoulder. “Cade, go check on Miss Jackie and help her with dinner ‘til I get back. Cooper, finish mucking.”

We roared down the drive in the roofless cart, the rain stinging my cheeks.

Immediately, Jesse approached Tag’s door and jerked it open. “Hey, man, you okay?”

Nothing had changed.

Lightning flashed, but the roll of thunder was further away. In fact, the rain was waning too.

I launched myself back into the passenger’s seat to be close to him, my clothes leaving wet streaks all over the place.

“You with us at all?” Jesse stood in the rain, leaning into the truck. He gave Tag’s arm a firm squeeze and gentle shake.

“Should we call 9-1-1?”

Jesse shook his head. “No.”

“You think he’ll be okay then?”

Jesse nodded. “He will. He—he does this sometimes.”

“What?!” I looked to Tag’s handsome face again and saw something that blasted me back to the past. Something that jerked me out of the confusion.

Tears.

Silent tears had trailed down his face. I reached up to gently wipe them away. The sense of dejavu was so strong, so real, so present in my body that I thought I was going to be sick. Like a fast-forwarded movie, the night in the hayloft played out in my mind.

The boot falling.

The trembling boy.

His quiet plea for me not to call help.

His tears on my fingers.

The scrape of our callouses.

The nicknames.

His notebook of words.

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