"What's on your mind?" Just like that, the daydream is gone, like an imaginary bubble is popped, startling me and leaving me with an empty chest of missing what never happened. My palms are still warm as if they were still pressed against hers and her scent is spiraling around my head, sweet, like raspberries and mint.
"W-What are you- no, nothing, I'm just.. um.. t-the food is nice, thank you." I stumble over the words as I try to clear my mind of her soft smiles and too-loud laughter. I try to move my fork around the leftover bits of noodles and vegetables on the plate, avoiding eye contact with Gemma.
"How are you feeling?" She gingerly reached out the touch my cold and clammy hand, the fork slipping out of my grip and clinking to the floor. I bite my cheek hard and reach to pick it up as Gemma stares, worried and a little scared.
"I-I don't know.. I probably just need more sleep. Don't worry about it, I'm sure I'll be back to normal tomorrow." My body ached and my legs felt like caving in, but I forced a smile for Gemma although she didn't return it. Her eyebrows were knitted together and her gaze was glossed over. I didn't like to worry her or cause such a fuss, but I couldn't pinpoint what was wrong.
"Let's watch a movie." I suddenly blurted out, the first thing that came to mind to get Gemma to smile back at me. She looked surprised at the least, knowing that even though I criticize her attention span, mine is only worse when it comes to movies. I just couldn't sit still and always managed to either choke on popcorn or get a kernel stuck between my teeth.
"If you really want to, what movie are you thinking?" Gemma excused herself from the table to sort through the cabinets, looking for microwavable popcorn.
"Maybe a funny one? But whatever you choose, I'm fine with." Turning to look at me, she spots me a grin and I'm worried with what is to come.
Forty-five minutes later and Gemma falls asleep on the floor with the bowl of popcorn cuddled into her side to an old movie about two families coming together during the preparations to a wedding. It had started to sprinkle outside, the sound gradually drawing me to the window to watch it dot the glass on the window, the small sounds calming the raging storm in my head.
Glancing over at Gem, I'm pretty sure she'd stay knocked out for another hour or so, which was plenty time for me to take a nice walk.
I couldn't find my black hoodie for the life of me until I remembered where it went the last time I went for a walk. I still had my grey hoodie that Gemma gifted with her university on it that I would gladly give to Arabella should she need it too. I grabbed an umbrella on the way out, just in case the rain gets worse and it'll be too obvious to Gemma if I came back soaked.
The town is quiet around this time, considering it's about 2am. Some cars drive past, careful with the sheet of water that had laid over the road. There's not much people, a couple hiding under the bus stop for shelter hailing a taxi, a man with the curtains open, watching the rain from the second story.
It only then occurred to me that I probably should've left a note so I don't scare Gemma half to death to wake up and find me gone, again. Of course it was too late, I was already in the middle of the town square park, watching the rain fall from under a large tree, only illuminated by the dim lamp posts and a full moon.
I'm not sure how long I sat there but the rain gradually became more severe until it was pouring and I had to hold up the umbrella, shivering in my wet sneakers. It was only when I could no longer feel my nose that I decided I should probably get home, wet socks and the water bleeding through my hoodie. Water splashed with every step and I knew Gemma would beat my ass if I came home sicker than I already was.
There wasn't anyone around anymore, the bus stops empty and the buildings quite dark except for businesses with their flashing neon signs. The music shop was one of them, a giant CD and the class open sign. Déjà vu hit me like a truck, the same old beaten down truck with the paint peeling and scratched rims that she sat in the bed of, now wearing grey sweatpants darkened as they were soaked and the hoodie I gave her, hunched over with the hood pulled over her head.
It took her a moment to realize rain was no longer continuously dripping down her face, her damp face turning to look at me in surprise. Wet eyelashes and pale lips that curved into a small smile when she recognized me in the fluorescent lighting.
"Thank you, Harry." She tugged the sleeves of my hoodie over her fingers and ran a hand through her soaked hair, chuckling a bit. The rain never ceased but here we were, sitting in the bed of a depreciating truck, the umbrella shielding us both and the moon dancing over her good side.
