The Boy in the Rain//Klance

1. First Rain

I'm running home from school. The rain pours loudly around me, luckily I'm smart. I have an umbrella. My feet splash into puddles and pound on the wet sidewalk. No one is out due to the unexpected weather except me.

And the boy.

He stands in a puddle on the street with his dark brown arms raised out to his sides. His brown hair is damp and wet. His eyes are closed and his head tilts up towards the sky. I see rain droplets on his face but I think I also see tears....

He seems to be the same age as I. Young. We're only children. What are we doing out in the rain with no adults. What is he doing alone? With no umbrella? Also he's dressed terribly for rainy weather.

"Hey you!" I yell at him from under my umbrella and run towards him from the sidewalk. His eyes open quickly and he looks around him to see who called. "It was me dummy!" I yell as I get closer. He turns to look at me with wide eyes.

Wide. Beautiful. Eyes.

They weren't a bright blue but more of a sad, dark blue. I could see from the redness in them he had been crying. I look him up and down. He's only wearing a tank top and pants rolled up to become shorts.

"What are you doing? Here, you can't get any more wet!" I reach out my umbrella towards him. He squints his eyes at me as if trying to sense wether I'm trustworthy or not. "It's just an umbrella! Take it or you could catch something!" I keep it held out until he nods and walks to my side so he's under the umbrella too.

He's slightly taller than me which gets on my nerves.

"Thank you." The boy says. I sigh, "Couldn't let you get hypothermia and die! Well actually you probably already have it so you're probably going to die soon..." I say trying to gage his reaction. His dark blue eyes go wide.

"I can't die! Mama would kill me!" He screams at me. I can't control my laughter when he shakes my shoulders and has the most frightened look on his face I've ever seen.

"You really are a dummy aren't you?" I say to him. He pouts. "I'm not dumb, I just wasn't thinking." I put my finger to my chin and act like I'm thinking carefully. "Isn't that just the definition of being dumb?" I snicker. He rolls his eyes. Why does he keep doing stuff with his eyes....

We walk for a while in silence except for the pitter-patter of rain on the umbrella and the world around us.

"So, do you need me to walk you home?" I turn my head towards him and he hesitates. "I guess so." He points to a street where we need to turn. "After this left we go straight two blocks then right once and then left and straight three blocks then we should be there!" He looks proud of himself.

"Do you memorize that every night or something?" I smirk at him. He crosses his arms and pouts. "Maybe." I laugh and he stares at me silently.

"You're a boy right?" He asks. I blush hard. I'm angry because this is what everyone asks. "Yes. I am a boy. Just because I have long hair doesn't make me a girl." I spit out angrily. I stomp forward. Desperate to leave him behind. He's just like everyone else.

"No no wait! I just thought I should ask you! You are a very pretty boy!" He stammers out. I turn to him and I see he's blushing really hard. "You think I'm pretty?" I walk back to him and I can feel myself blushing a little too. He crosses his arms.

"You have pretty hair and eyes..." He says without looking at me. I move back to him and raise the umbrella over both of us. "I think you have pretty eyes as well." Before I blush anymore I change the subject, "Let me get you home now." He nods.

We walk in silence until we get to his neighborhood. It's a poor area....The houses are all small and broken in many parts of each home. People sit on their porches and stare at us. I see they are all either Spanish like the boy looks to be or African American.

Daddy told me to stay out of this place. I wonder why?

The boy next to me looks uneasy, "Mama said people don't like this place, and that my friends should never see my house because they'd judge me." I think about that. Why would people judge him? The boy next to me quickens his pace, "Mama said to never be out around here at night." The boy pulls me along, "Why?" I ask him while we scurry.

"It's dangerous." The boy says quietly. "There is my house." He points to a tiny one story house, cramped between two other tiny houses. Little kids' toys scatter the front yard. Bicycles, stuffed animals, chalk and balls. The chalk is wet and liquid now on the ground. I cringe at the sight of  the bikes. Daddy always said that bikes would rust if I ever left them out in the rain.

The boy skips up the steps to the disheveled house. He reaches under the door mat and pulls out a key, "Glad they left this out or I'd be dead meat. Rules of this place is no opening the door after dark." The boy turns to me and points, "Make sure you remember that, my key is under the mat. I wont be able to open the door for you if it's dark." I nod, not knowing why I'd ever be here again. It's sketchy and making me uncomfortable.

He puts the key in the door and unlocks it. He pushes it open and puts the key back under the mat. He steps into his house but pauses. I look inside and I see only the faint glow of a small lamp and I hear children screaming and running. I don't know why he doesn't just go inside and shut the door on me. He turns around and I can see he has tears, before I can ask him what's wrong he says:

"The name's Lance by the way." I  run up the steps to go and comfort him and ask why he's crying but right when I get to the door he smiles at me. "Thanks. Don't forget,the key is under the mat." He shut the door in my face. I am left alone outside in the rain with only my umbrella and the pitter of rain as my company.

Time to go home.