something about rain

1: Romeo and Juliet

        "Jameson," the stern eyes of my mother looked me up and down, "where are you going?" I sighed miserably.
        "I've told you, mom, please, call me James. I'm going to Carissa's house," the oldest lie in the book. I never went to Carissa's house, I was never going to go to Carissa's house, and as much as Mom hated it, I'd never get married to the preppy, rich, ratty girl. The old eyes softened and although her botox kept her from smiling, I knew she would be smiling if she could.
        "Alright," her lips tightened into their usual thin line again, "Jameson." It took everything in me to keep from glaring at her, walking around her and to the door, and nodding at our butler, Jackson, as he opened it for me. I walked down the steps and to my car, glancing up and noticing the storm clouds brewing quickly. I knew that by the time I got home, it would be a raging storm. I shut the door behind me, starting the car and turning up the radio. I sung the words lightly as I drove to the coffee shop I planned to spend my rainy afternoon at.
        "You sighed, look away, I can see you clear as day," Cigarette Daydreams played, my current favorite song, as I drove down main street. Washington was always raining, which is what I hated about it. I finally arrived at my usual time, getting out of the car and walking through the double doors.
        "Good morning, James!" The old lady at the cash register greeted me, as usual. "Double caramel cappuccino?" she said. I nodded, smiling politely as I walked to my table in the corner and sat down. A few minutes after sitting, my coffee was placed on the table in front of me. I looked up to thank the waiter who brought it to me, only to see a rather short teenage girl with ginger hair and amber eyes. She had the right side of her hair tucked behind her ear, a polite, but genuine smile on her delicate features. I blushed slightly, unsure of what to think. I had never blushed like this before. My eyes trailed down to her name tag.
        "Thank you... Raina," I said. She tucked the empty tray under her arm, laughing and allowing her soft voice to reach me.
        "Please, call me Rain. I never liked the name Raina," She replied, coking her head to the right the slightest bit, and letting a few tucked hairs escape. "I will be your waitress for a while, until Marvin gets out of the hospital."
        "What happened to him?" I asked curiously.
        "It's a long story..." Her smile faded, and a small sadness crept into her eyes, but she did a good job disguising it. 
        "I have time," I smiled, and she looked around her.
         "I uh, I should get back to work..." The elder woman at the counter released a hearty laugh.
        "Rain, dear, take a break!" She said.
        "Are you, uh, are you sure, Anna?" She asked, a worried look in her eyes.
        "Please, tell him the story." Rain looked down at the table, and hesitantly sat down. She had a nice voice, and as she told the story of Marvin's hospitalization, she began to relax, laughing here and there, and not once dropping her smile. After the story, her face darkened to a deep red and she looked down.
        "Mr. Matthews... May I receive your number..?" She asked, quietly. I blushed at this, not quite knowing what to make of that comment.
        "O-Of course!" I say, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper, watching as she blushed more, smiling. I scribbled my number down, handing it to her. "Text me, or call me," I say with a smile. I then leave the coffee shop, glancing back to see Rain sitting in the same booth, a large smile covering her features. Cute. I thought. What was this feeling? I never felt love, I could never fall in love after Carissa being forced upon me like she was. So what was I feeling now? I was no fool, love was an emotion created by other smart men and women, because they needed a reason to convince humans to stay with one person at a time. Or... Maybe they felt something deep down (in their pants, perhaps?), and needed a word to describe it. Whatever the reason the word was created, it didn't make sense that someone like me would feel it. I never wanted to feel it, never believed that it existed. A crush, I tell myself. You just have a crush. So why did this feel like so much more than a crush? I wasn't one to change my mind about my beliefs so suddenly, I didn't believe in love, let alone love at first sight. I didn't know this girl, all I knew was that it was beginning to rain and she had looked up at the sky with a smile, because obviously, Rain loved the rain and probably not the color amber, because that was the color of her eyes. She probably thought that I was rich and she needed a few dollars, so she asked for my number. A beautiful girl like that doesn't just look at the frowning kid with nice clothes and think, "Wow, he seems nice, I should talk to him", yet I had done nearly the exact same thing by thinking, "Wow, she's cute, maybe she'll actually talk to me". And now here I am, thinking about life and love and humanity and how it's impossible that I should be feeling such miserable feelings because I talked to a beautiful girl with the most gorgeous smile and personality. 

     

        I realize that I'm standing in the rain and it's beginning to pour, and my mom is probably wondering where the hell I am. My shirt is soaked through and my hair is beginning to stick to my head. Okay, I think. Now I just have to wait for her to call me.