downpour

  This fucking sucks Jean had thought, he was walking cold and wet through the dark streets. His thin hoodie was the only thing protecting him from the heavy downpour. Jean had stopped dead in his tracks, the teen had shuddered vigorously in the frigid temperature. He breathed heavily, and winced once the crisp air burned his sinuses.

   Why on earth was he here? Of all places. Oh-right, he had had a fight with parents and decided to bolt outside the house to wander around town.  Jean legs had grown uncomfortably numb from the cold. He moved as quickly as possible, hoping the movement would put feeling back into his limbs. Shit Shit Shit

Jean gasp. He pressed against the wall, his damp blond hair stuck to concrete. The rain was coming down even harder than before, now Jean was trying to will up the courage to walk into the intense rain.

   The streets were barren, well, almost. A few figures darted left and right in front of him and each one carried an umbrella.

   Jean was shaking from the dampness now, and the feeling in his hands and feet were starting to dim. So he stood there, and just prayed and waited for the rain to stop.

  And it did. But it was much to suddenly and abruptly. The teen glanced up, just overhead was a black umbrella, and in front of him was the owner. A smiling boy, just about Jean's age, with too many freckles. 

"Th-thank...thank you," Jean had stuttered out, whether it was from cold or nerves he wasn't too sure.

  "It's no biggie," The other boy replied as he stepped underneath the umbrella to join Jean. He now got a clear look at the stranger's face. It was covered in freckles.

 

"I'm Marco, by the way," The kind stranger had introduced, then stuck out his hand toward Jean.

  "Oh, uh," Jean grasped the hand and shook. "My name is, uh, Jean, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too." Marco shoved his free hand in his pocket and rocked on his heels. "So...uhm, do you want me to walk you home? It's pretty cold outside and..."

Jean put his hands up, silencing the freckled teen.

  "Didn't your parents warn you about strangers? I can be a serial killer for all you know. " Marco laughed, his hazel eyes glimmering with a childlike energy.

  "I'll take my chances, besides, we can get to know each other on the walk over. C'mon," He motioned for Jean to follow. He stuck close to Marco, seeking the dry relief that was provided by the umbrella. 

They ran along the sidewalk in silence for the longest time, with Jean leading the way to his home. Marco was the first to make conversation.

  "So, Jean, why were walking around without an umbrella is this rain? Did you want to get hypothermia?"

   Jean smirked at Marco. "Uhm, no, I, uh actually didn't think it would rain this hard. And besides, I...was in a little bit of rush to get out."  They stopped at a corner.

"Oh? Well was everything okay?" Marco asked with a genuine concern. His eyes stuck on Jean, and for a while, they didn't move.

The blonde boy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

"Yeah, I just had an argument with my folks and I...y'know, just needed to be out of the house for a while." Marco nodded and the two continued their walk, both had begun to notice the downpour lessening ever so slightly. 

  Jean spoke up again.

  "You know, my mom and dad, they just...they aren't happy with the way I've turned so far. I'm happy with myself though, I'm just not the son they wanted I guess. I do good in school and stay out of trouble, seriously, what more could they want?" He vented. "Sorry, for telling you all my personal crap."

  Marco placed his hand on Jean's shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay, I really don't mind, I like to listen to people."

   "You should be a therapist then, you can get paid to listen to people's shit." Jean remarked with a smart smirk. 

  "Well, listening isn't really my career choice, more of a hobby."

The blonde teen had rubbed his hands over his arms, silently thanking every deity in the book that he was starting to dry up.

" What do you do then, y'know...as a job."

Marco smiled, his freckles were practically glowing.

"Something with music. Maybe a music producer or a songwriter or....I dunno," His tanned cheeks went cherry red, Jean thought it was sort of adorable, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. "A musician, maybe?" Jean had offered to the other boy's list. The latter shook his head. "Nah, I'm more of a, 'behind-the-scenes' guy if you will,"

   They were nearing Jean's house now, only about ten minutes away. I hope they're asleep, I don't think I can deal with them now, Jean thought bitterly about his parents.

"So, uh....Jean," Marco stopped dead in his tracks, the other boy doing the same.

"Jean, uhm, are you sure everything is okay with you and your parents. Like...they're not gonna smother you with a pillow while you sleep, right?"

  Jean had laughed at his aquantice's question, but then realized the serious tone that he had.

  "Marco, don't worry, like I said, me and my parents are going through a rough spot and they're  being assholes. My dad doesn't bludgeon me with a hammer. He'll just go a day without speaking to me....Which I am fine with, I don't like talking to me dad anyway. " He carried on casually as they rounded the corner. Jean's house was visible now, just down the road.

"Okay, I-I just wanted to be certain that you were gonna be alright. You're a nice guy, Jean. "

  The other boy blushed hard at the compliment, even though it was such a simple plain piece of praise.  "Thank you, for...caring." 

"No biggie," Marco said, for the second time  that night.

The two had finally reached the front steps of Jean's home, and Marco was still hold the black umbrella securely above them, even though i wasn't needed much anymore.

"Look, Marco, thank you again for saving me from the rain. You're some sort of Jesus....freckled Jesus." Jean had said as he stepped into his doorway. Marco nodded kindly and turned to leave, before being called again by other teen.

"Uhm, hey, Marco?" He called out nervously, his own voice catching in his throat slightly. The freckled boy spun on his heels, giving Jean an attentive look.

  Jean reached into his pant's pocket and got out his phone, which thankfully managed to be dry. "I, uh, had a nice talk with you tonight, Marco, so I wouldn't mind y'know getting to know you better...if-if uh, you want, uhm....can I get your number?" Since when  was Jean Kirschtein such a goddamn dork? 

Marco had kindly replied, giving Jean his number, which was saved into his contacts as 'freckled jesus' and Jean , in turn, gave Marco his number, and was saved in Marco's contacts as 'blondie'.

"Goodnight, freckled Jesus, be safe,"

"You too, goodnight, Blondie!"