Page 117 of As the Rain Falls
“I…”
A book crashes to the floor. I pause mid-sentence, my head snapping towards the sound.
Angelina Cardoso stands at the other end of the aisle, her hands frozen mid-air.Her arms are wrapped in thin white bandages, her long brown hair tied up in a messy French braid. She looks like one of these sad, artsy girls I often see pictures of on the Internet—pretty and broken, like a cursed doll. Thick dark frames are hiding the way her soft eyebrows shoot up, but her eyes lock onto mine, sharp and knowing.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Caleb forces a grin, feigning calmness. “Well, you are now.”
And though he tries, I can tell there’s irritation slipping through.
She gestures towards the book, still left on the floor. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me just get this and leave you two alone.”
I blink hard, watching her lower herself to pick it up. Her gaze won’t leave me. She’s… God, I can’t believe it. She’s worried.
Angelina is worried about me.
Who does she think she is?
“Caleb?” her voice is quiet, but it cuts like a glass. “Zacharias and Gabriel are looking for you. You owe them money, apparently.”
His face falls. “But I won the bet. If anything, they owe me.”
“What bet?” I blurt out, wanting to know what that’s about.
“Soccer,” Caleb answers. “Our team won against the public school kids again.”
“Really?”
“Mateo got the last penalty.”
Angelina walks until she reaches half of the aisle, fingers brushing over each book as if she’s reading what’s written on each spine just to find a very specific one. ButI can tell she’s really not because her attention is entirely on Caleb and me. This is a girl who doesn’t know her way around. She’s probably never ever stepped foot in this library before.
She doesn’t even blink, speaking to him again but staring entirely at me, something heavy behind her eyes. “You should really go talk to them before they find you.”
Caleb sighs. “What do they even want?”
Angelina rises again, waving her free hand around dismissively. “I mean, duh. What else besides their money?”
I fix my lip gloss with the tips of my fingers. My lips are still tingling.
“You should go,” I say quietly, not daring to look Caleb in the eye. “I have homework to do.”
“I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Sure.”
I watch him leave, my chest tightening. Angelina places her book back in an empty spot, pressing it until the spine disappears between all the other volumes on display.
“Caleb Monteiro? Really?”
Her questions sound more curious than judgmental, but I feel defensiveness rising inside of me as a response nonetheless.
“Nothing is happening,” I snap, stepping forward and towards her.
“Oh, am I supposed to believe that? Stop acting so dense, Cassandra.”
Angelina’s disapproval makes me freeze all over.Something about her posture reminds me so much of Lucia Evans. How she looked when someone got in her way or did something she didn’t like.
