life's rain // bruno mars

chapter three

chapter three

Eric told us to leave even though we insisted to stay until the police arrived there, but we weren't supposed to be at the lake anyway. So Phil, Bruno, and I left the lake, climbing over the brown fence. We all walked together in silence. Bruno's arms were no longer around me. He had apologized, telling me I know, I just met you today.

No, I don't mind was what I wanted to respond with, but the words were tangled in my raw throat. Bruno led us to his car, a dark blue 2002 Honda Civic. Phil let me sit in the passenger's seat. Bruno turned the heat on blast, and my shivering at last stopped. I tucked my knees to my chest, feeling my camera dig into my chest. I gasped, having forgotten all about it. I pressed the power button repeatedly, but it wouldn't turn on. I heard Bruno's sudden intake of breath. He glanced at me. “How is it?”

“Ruined.” My voice was soft. I untangled the camera from my neck and set it on the floor, drawing my knees to my chest and resting my head against the window.

“I'm so sorry, Lena.” Bruno's eyes were focused on the dark road ahead of us. “I—”

“It's my fault,” Phil cut in. His fedora was sitting drenched on his lap. I would have never guessed that he was bald. “I should've never suggested to do that.”

I shook my head. Despite of the sadness that was swelling inside of me I turned to Phil and Bruno with a smile. “It's none of you guys’ fault. I had fun, really. Thank you.”

Phil smiled at me gratefully. “It was hilarious now that you think about it.”

“No. It wasn't.” Bruno was frowning, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “She almost died.”

Phil quieted. The silence fell over us again. We said our goodbyes when we pulled up to Phil's place. It was just Bruno and me, the dark car lighting with orange every time we passed by a street light. Bruno didn't say anything, so I didn't either. He broke the silence. “That shouldn't have happened, you know.”

“But it did.” I wanted my camera back into my arms. “I had fun. Honestly, Bruno.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “I don't see how dying could be fun.”

“The part before that.” I was close to snapping. “Why are you acting like this? I had fun, God. So what I almost died? I didn't. You—you were there.” My voice quieted near the end. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Bruno closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. We were at a red light. When he opened them, his gaze stayed transfixed on the road. “That was probably the most scariest moment of my life.”

“Turn here,” I told him when the light turned green. He followed my directions then commenced speaking again. “I know you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” A small smile flitted on his mouth before disappearing. “You work at the pawn shop up on Riverside. I'm surprised you didn't notice me, I go there all the time.”

“We have a lot of customers,” I explained. “It would have been hard to remember you.”

“We talked a few times.” I was giving him directions to my place as he spoke. “I pawned my sister's camera once, and you looked at it and said, ‘Look at this beauty!’ But it wasn't even a nice camera. It was old as hell, even had a few dents on it.”

I was remembering. It was raining that day, and this relatively short guy, compared to the other heights of men, came in wearing a dark gray hoodie that was soaking wet. He joked with us. “I need to pawn this old dirt.” He slid the camera across the glass counter. “You know why I'm soaked? Can't afford any gas money!” My manager assigned me to deal with him, because he knew how much I loved photography. 

“The camera was pretty much crap,” I reminisced. “But it was a beautiful antique. It sold for one fifty.”

He half smiled. “You remember.”

“Yes.”

“It was weird, you know.” We finally turned onto my street, passing the neighborhood houses we entered a complex of condominiums. “I watched you pick the thing up so delicately, like it meant something to you. And when you said that to me, for some reason I couldn't stop coming back to that pawn shop, just to see you. . . and the jewelry.”

When we stopped in front of building eight, Bruno cut the engine. It was silent for awhile. I would have never thought that a stranger would come to the shop just to see me, let alone talk to me. And the stranger being him. It made my stomach churn. I didn't know whether to find it creepy or romantic. I asked, “Why didn't you say anything in the alley?”

He shrugged. “I got your number. I think that's a win.”

“You could've just asked me at the shop.”

“I was hoping. . .” he shifted in his seat and sighed. “I don't know what I was hoping.”

I rest my hand on the handle to the door, not knowing what else to do. I looked back at him. “Well, call me okay?”

“Wait,” Bruno said. “Let me walk you.”

He walked me to the front door. My best friend and I stayed on the first floor. I checked my breast pocket for my key, but it wasn't there. My jeans were heavy and soaked, so it took me some time to wiggle my fingers inside the wet pockets. I cursed under my breath. I pulled out my phone and splashes of water followed. The screen was black even after I flipped it open; pressed multiple buttons. I sighed. “Damn it.”

Bruno was watching me the whole time. “No key?”

“Either it's lost in the lake, or I'd forgotten it.” I turned the doorknob in hopes I'd forgotten to lock the door. Much to my expectation, it was locked. “And my phone doesn't work.”

“Damn.” Bruno contemplated for a moment. “Is there a payphone somewhere?”

“Not that I know of.”

“You can use my phone,” he said evenly, his mouth curving up the tiniest bit. “It was in the car during the incident.

Back at his car, he put his Blackberry in my palm and I stifled a laugh because of the old gadget. I dialed my best friend's number, hearing it ring four times before it was sent directly to voice mail. I glanced at Bruno. He was leaning on the hood of the car, staring out into the distance. I watched as he stripped from his flannel, twisting it so the water came out. He was now only wearing a gray tank top, his arms tan and toned. I looked away hastily.

It was almost nine o’ clock, too early for my best friend to be sleep on a three day weekend. But she wouldn't answer an unknown number anyways. I almost dragged a hand through my hair, forgetting that it was wet. “Won't answer?” Bruno asked, still twisting his flannel.

“No. It's not that she's inside, though. She's at her boyfriend's for the weekend but I was thinking. . .” I didn't know what I was thinking, actually. Her boyfriend lived two hours away. Was she supposed drive all the way here just to let me in the house?

“Lena.” He turned around to look at me. “You can stay at my place for the night.”

“I can't.” I looked away from him, my heart racing at the thought. But I knew there was no other option.

“You can trust me.” Bruno walked around the car and over to me. “And it won't be just us. I live with my brother. . . he is a cop, remember.”

“Probably not anymore.”

“Yeah. Probably not.” He cut his laugh short. “Shit.”

Even though I said no at first, I think I always knew in the back of my mind that I would have ended up with agreeing, even if he didn't live with his brother who was a cop. “Okay,” I agreed quietly. His eyes met mine. “I'll stay at yours.”

He shot me a smile and jogged around the car, opening the door for me. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but that spread excitement through my veins. I guessed I should be afraid, staying at a guy's house whom I did not know, and maybe I was a little scared, but more thrilled than ever. It was like that final moment before the cart dived into the water, the frozen moment of time and adrenaline of not knowing what happens next. I felt like that as Bruno and I sped down the dark streets of California, the emotion of liberty yawning open in my stomach.

This feeling, was something I lived for.