Coffee & Nerves (boyxboy)

[12] Getting Wet

Just as I consider kicking Jack out of my car because he'll mess with my driving, I look around and notice that I won't be doing much driving anyway. The parking lot is backed up and the line of cars heading to the exit is at a standstill.

It always goes this way when it rains. Putting 800+ teenage drivers in a parking lot together when it's raining only results in disaster. There's usually an extra 5-10 parking lot accidents than on a regular day. The accidents only make the traffic worse, exacerbating the disaster that we are currently experiencing.

It's not likely that anyone is going to let us into the line soon. Teenagers don't usually display an excess amount of kindness when driving.

My parking spot is closer to an exit than some. It could be worse. There are still kids running to their cars, not looking the happiest.

"They're all so angry," Jack laughs, seeming as though he takes joy in their anger.

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly what the picture-perfect first day of school is supposed to look like."

I adjust the temperature controls, then add on, "And I'm not the happiest either."

I scrunch my nose up and gesture my hand at him dripping wet.

"Now my car's going to smell like wet dog."

Jack just smiles, "Wet dog smell or not, I think it's pretty great --the rain, I mean."

"You sound like my mother," I mutter under my breath.

He turns to look at me. "How so?"

"Well, even though all these kids look angry that it's raining, Mom would be happy."

I imitate her voice, "'Rain is good for business' she'd say."

When Jack sends me a quizzical look, I explain, "It drives people into the cafe. Nothing better than snuggling up with a nice warm cup of coffee or steaming mug of hot cocoa on a cold, wet day."

Jack ponders this for a moment, then nods in approval, "It is true."

I chuckle, thinking of my mom. I continue, "Then she'd joke, 'if money grows on trees, the only reason it does is the rain. Rain is like liquid gold to any cafe.'"

He hums lightly in agreement.

As I see a spot to get into the line open up, I put the car in reverse and ask, "Well why do you like the rain?"

When he doesn't respond right away, I turn the wheel to maneuver my way out while adding with a chuckle, "I assume it's not for business reasons like my mom."

He shrugs his shoulders, glancing out the window. "The rain-- it humanizes us. There aren't many things like it. We all get lost in our own worlds with our own problems. We live in our bubbles."

He seems passionate about this and rambles on, "With so many things that separate us: our education, the clothes we wear, what neighborhood we live in, what family we have, what religion we are, what language we speak, what money we have, the list goes on and on."

Jack takes a moment to pause, sucking in a deep breath.

"We feel isolated and alone from others; some types of people appear almost alien to us. They seem to share none of the traits that we feel make up who we are."

He waves his hand. "But rain-- the weather-- transcends that."

He stills. "Running to get inside or to your car is something we can all relate to." He stares out the window for a little while and I wonder what he's thinking about.

I must've been staring at him because when he turns and looks at me, a weird expression flits across his face.

He clears his throat and stiffens suddenly, "Have any music? Anything that isn't complete crap?"

It's less of a question and more of a statement; I just nod and turn on the radio, wondering what I did wrong that made him put back up his walls and be rude again.

He stays silent, not uttering another word to me while I drive. I think he's going to when I notice him perk up at certain songs that come on the radio, making it obvious to me that they're songs he enjoys, but he quickly stifles whatever emotions he has toward them.

This angers me. It's still pouring rain when I pull into my spot behind the cafe, wishing for once that I didn't live atop the cafe but rather in a normal house that had an attached garage.

After we dash inside through the back door, we're soaking wet-- again. I groan. As if things couldn't get any worse.

"Just-" I wave Jack forward, "follow me."

I stomp up the stairs and open the closet door. I roughly throw a towel at Jack and grab one for myself. I push past him, bumping into his shoulder as I go to open my bedroom door.

Jack follows me inside. I somewhat aggressively open one of my drawers to search for dry clothes. Noticing my irritation, Jack steps forward and apprehensively reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder, like I might bite him at any second.

He pats my shoulder awkwardly, saying somewhat softly, "Don't let the rain get you down."

I take a deep breath and turn slightly to face him. Why is he all nice again?

"And anyways...you should be glad," a smirk forms on his face, "it's the first shower you've had in weeks"

I send him a confused look. "Wha-?"

Then I remember the conversation I had this morning with my mother in the cafe. "Oh, you little sh-"

"it's just too bad you didn't bring any shampoo" he shuffles forward and leans in to feel my hair. "It doesn't feel too oily-"

I slap his hand away and my eyes widen.

I whine, "Stop!" a little louder and high-pitched than I planned.

"I just need to see-" He reaches his hand out to ruffle my hair and I try to duck my head out of his reach but his fingers curl around the collar of my sweater, yanking me toward him.

I attempt to wiggle my way out of his grip, but I fail. I know if I keep this up, it'll only stretch out the collar of my favorite sweater even more, which I do not want. So I go limp with defeat, huffing an annoyed sigh.

When he lets go of my sweater, he places his hands on both sides of my face and turns me to face him. His long fingers run through my hair above my ear and the palms of his hands are on my cheeks. His hands are cold and a little wet, but when I shiver, it's not from that. I'm breathless from struggling to escape his hold on me and him holding my face isn't helping.

He stares into my eyes for a few seconds and my heart skips a beat. I try to gauge what emotion is hidden in his sparkling hazel eyes before he tilts his head and leans forward.

----

AN: Have fun with this cliffhanger!!

I'll try to update soon:-)

Until then I'll just leave it to your imagination what's gonna happen...

Also, I know this is obvious but I just wanted to say that all of your comments, votes, etc., really do make me run around my house with happy excitement and butterflies in my stomach that motivate me to open my laptop and write. Thank you for making me happy!!!

Love,

Leah