Playing in the Rain

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “Excuse me? When he leaves?”

  Her eyes widened and she stammered and stuttered her way through a reply.

  “Oh, I thought ... isn’t he? Oh, I probably got that wrong.”

  But I didn’t miss the look of pity that she shot me before turning to talk to another volunteer.

  Maybe Cody was going away for college, or maybe he just didn’t think he’d have time to volunteer once he was back in school. That would make sense. But I was hurt that he hadn’t said anything to me—he’d always been irritatingly vague when I asked about his plans for the Fall.

  I was quiet when I climbed back into his truck an hour later. I think he assumed it was because the shelter had given me food for thought, because he talked about how grateful he was to have a roof over his head and his mom in his life.

  The shelter and the people I’d met had definitely affected me, but it was Alli’s parting comment that was making my brain work overtime.

  I thought I’d give Cody the benefit of the doubt before I accused him of anything.

  “Jason seemed really nice,” I began.

  “Yeah, he’s great. I was talking to him about maybe taking a class in carpentry. He doesn’t want an indoor job—I can relate to that.”

  “What about you? Will you be taking any classes in the Fall?”

  “Life is one big lesson,” he said with a small smile.

  “So, no firm plans?”

  He looked at me sideways.

  “Not really.”

  “It’s just that Alli said you were leaving at the end of August; that sounded like a pretty firm plan.”

  He shrugged.

  “It’s easier for them to work out volunteer rosters if they know who’s going to be around. I just wanted to let them know which days I could help this summer.”

  I was about to argue when he changed the subject again.

  “Okay, so I’ve got something lined up for this afternoon, but you don’t have to do it if you don’t want.”

  “If I don’t want to what?”

  He slid his eyes across to me before staring back at the road.

  “Jumping out of an airplane.”

  The blood drained from my face, and if I hadn’t been sitting down, I’d have fainted.

  “You … you didn’t!”

  “Um, yeah, I kind of did. But no one’s going to make you—do it if you want to.”

  “I think I’ve been pretty clear about my thoughts on the sanity of someone who’d do something like that.”

  He grinned.

  “Seriously, Cody! Do you have a death wish or something?”

  His eyes widened, but then he shook his head.

  “It’ll be fun. And you don’t do it by yourself; it’s a tandem jump, so you’ll be harnessed to an instructor. You don’t even have to open your eyes. Just see how you feel when you get there.”

  Which was why, half an hour later, a burly man called Cesar was strapped inappropriately close against my back, and I was wearing goggles that made me look like Millhouse from The Simpsons.

  Cody was vibrating with excitement, and even signing a waiver that promised we wouldn’t sue in the event of death didn’t deter him.

  I was hyperventilating as we were seated awkwardly in the small mono-winged plane. He held my hand as we took off, rubbing my fingers and telling me how awesome it was going to be, until I wanted to scream or slap him.

  The plane circled slowly, rising steadily upward. I squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring his enthusiastic commentary that told me he could see Mexico.

  Cody was jumping first. I heard him begging his instructor, Ralph, to do a forward flip out of the plane. I thought there was every chance that I’d vomit just watching him.

  When we finally reached jump altitude, Cody shuffled to the exit, moving crabwise with Ralph close behind. The pilot cut the propeller, and for the briefest moment, the only sound was the rush of wind over the wings.

  “Three, two, one, exit!” yelled Ralph, and Cody leapt forward, somersaulting out of the plane. I screamed and Cesar laughed.

  I peered out of the scratched plastic window, seeing two figures hurtling below, already tiny and nearly out of sight.

  A short prayer fluttered in my throat, but not for me—for that crazy boy, falling through the air.

  The engine cut back in, and we circled higher again. Then it was my turn. I was sweating, almost crying, and Cesar had to jump with my body hanging limp in front of him.

  The plane spiraled away, or maybe it was us spiraling. Cesar tapped on my shoulder to make me open my eyes, so the photographer who jumped with us could get my picture. But as soon as I pried my eyes open, the view and the furious air took my breath away.

  Downtown San Diego was spread out below, and the Pacific glittered and glowed, sparkling as the sun hit the shifting water. I could see Coronado, Chula Vista and the red earth of the border with Mexico, so close I felt I could reach out and touch it.

  I was falling through the sky at billions of miles an hour, my hair streaming behind me and my skin rippling, yet it felt like I was floating. It was the strangest feeling.

  I forgot to scream, and gave the biggest smile at the camera.

  Cesar tapped on my shoulder again, telling me to put my arms at my side and keep my body rigid like we’d practiced. Suddenly we were flying forward, and if I sprouted wings I couldn’t have been more surprised.

  I was flying, I was free, and truthfully, I’d never been happier.

  Cesar pulled the chute at last, and instead of the ground rushing toward us, we floated back to earth, rocking gently under the colorful canopy.

  Cody was waiting for me, and as soon as I was out of harness, he sprinted across, sweeping me up so my feet left the ground again. The almost brutal kiss he gave me was as dizzying as jumping out of an airplane from 13,000 feet. And just like that leap of faith, I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

  The other men gave a ribald cheer as Cody kissed me soundly, again and again, until his lips slowly gentled against mine.

  “Wow,” I said, and I didn’t know if I was talking about the parachute jump or the kiss.

  Probably the kiss.

  I didn’t see Cody for nearly a week after our visit to the Bridge shelter and the whole crazy business of throwing ourselves out of an airplane.

  And that kiss. That short, sweet, punishing kiss—a kiss that I couldn’t stop thinking about. Adrenaline, that’s what it was, damn it.

  I’d been offered extra shifts at the coffee shop, and I couldn’t say no to the handful of tips, or the small but regular wage.

  Worse still, given how confused I was about my feelings for Cody and life in general, my family found out that I’d lost my job at Wallman & Wallman. Chloe phoned there to speak to me. It was my own damn fault—I’d been ignoring her texts and calls on my cell phone, so I should have known that she wouldn’t just let it lie.

  I confessed to her what James Wallman had said and done, and I must admit I got a big smile out of her desire to fly over and ‘kick his balls through his teeth’. But then she’d gone and screwed up my appreciation by stating that she’d made a reservation for me on the first flight home. Well, back to Fayetteville, or, if you were an army brat like the kids I went to school with Fayettenam, North Carolina—the place the rest of my family called home.

  She’d been stunned when I refused to even consider it, then angry, then disbelieving, then angry again. It had been an exhausting conversation. She threatened to fly out to San Diego and drag me home. I told her that I wasn’t going. She told Dad, and he threatened to fly out to San Diego and drag me home.

  When that didn’t work and I reminded him that I was an adult, he told me not to be such a child. Then he refused to help me make the rent on my very expensive apartment that he had made me get because it had underground parking and good security.

  Well, fine. If he was cutting me off, I was cutting him off. I ended the call and contacted the rental agent to give notice. I had a month to f
ind somewhere else to live. Oh, and get a job that paid reasonable money so I could afford another apartment. Easy.

  Cody had been busy, too. I assumed it was something to do with the shelter, but he gave vague answers when I asked him, admitting only that he had ‘stuff’ to do and that he was ‘working on the wish list’.

  We kept in touch with texts and late night phone calls that often meandered through to the next morning, but when I told him what had happened with my dad, he insisted on seeing me straight away.

  We met at the park during my lunch break, so he could throw a tennis ball for Oscar at the same time. As soon as he saw me, his delighted grin made me feel everything would be okay; just for a second I could believe that I had no problems.

  He reached out and pulled me into a tight hug, and we stood there holding each other, enjoying the warmth that came from another person’s body, and from the simple fact that he cared.

  Oscar lollopped toward me, pushing his heavy head against my thigh, looking for his share of affection. I scratched his ears and buried my hands in his thick fur while he sighed contentedly.

  “I think I’m jealous,” said Cody, laughing lightly.

  “Well, he is darn good looking with great hair,” I teased.

  “Now I’m hurt, too.”

  I grinned and looked up at him, then frowned slightly.

  “You look tired.”

  His eyes flickered away from mine and he gripped the back of his neck with one hand.

  “Late night. Did you call your dad back yet?”

  “No, and I’m not going to. Not yet. If he thinks he can bully me into going back to Fayetteville, he’s very wrong.”

  “That’s my girl,” said Cody, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me toward him.

  Am I? I wondered. Am I your girl? But I didn’t say the words.

  We talked for half an hour and he bought me another frozen yogurt that I shared with Oscar. Not that we took turns, or anything gross like that, but when I’d eaten about half of it, I tossed the rest to him and he slurped it down happily.

  Cody told me how Kevin and his family were getting on at the shelter, and that Jason had even started applying for carpentry courses and apprenticeships.

  We talked about my dad and sisters, about where I grew up, and about college. Everything I said fascinated him, and I soaked up every drop of attention he had to give.

  We also talked about how we could make the Monument Valley trip happen. It wasn’t something we could just wing, so it needed to be planned. I was really excited about it, even though I’d never ridden a horse. Cody said he’d ridden once or twice when he was a kid, but had given it up before high school. At least he wasn’t a complete novice.

  I wasn’t sure I could afford the trip, or even take the time off work, given my precarious financial situation, but Cody just smiled and reminded me that it was one of his wishes and that he wanted pay for it. Then he said, “Do what you need to, Ava, but don’t let life be something that happens while you’re looking in the other direction.”

  I was still thinking about that when he kissed me on the top of my head, and said he had to get Oscar home.

  I watched him walk away. He looked like he was talking to Oscar because every now and then, the dog’s shaggy head would look up at him, tongue lolling to the side. Cody turned once and seemed surprised to see me watching him. He grinned and waved, then carried on walking away.

  I watched until they were out of sight, then hurried back to work alone, wondering why he hadn’t kissed me like he did in Tijuana.

  I’d replayed our kisses over and over, telling myself it couldn’t possibly have been as amazing as I remembered. It was just a kiss; it must have been the marijuana; it must have been the adrenaline rush of surviving falling out of an airplane.

  Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  But then he messaged me an hour later, telling me to keep Friday and Saturday clear, saying that he’d pick me up at 6AM, to dress for the desert and to bring a sweater. We were really going to do this—we were going to ride through Monument Valley and sleep under the stars. It was sad to think that almost everything on Cody’s wish list would now be done. Maybe he’d write another one—maybe we could write one together again. And maybe this time I’d put ‘travel to Italy’ on my list.

  I’d been thinking about that more often lately. When I was 16 and still believed that dreams came true, I spent a lot of time researching what I needed to do to get to Florence. It was surprisingly straightforward to apply for a work-study visa, and I wondered how much the rules might have changed in the last eight years. Definitely something for me to look into; maybe something that I could do more than just dream about. Maybe.

  I’d worked a late shift the night before our next adventure, so I was tired, and a little grumpy. I would have loved the opportunity to sleep in, but I was really excited to see Cody, too. We were going to have a whole weekend together—and I was going to find out how he really felt about us, even if it killed me.

  The rumble of his truck pulled me out of my musings, and I thumped down the stairs, my small overnight bag bumping against my hip.

  He met me at the door, but his face was so serious and stern, that I was a little intimidated.

  My mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Cody was staring at me, his gaze flicking between my chest and my mouth.

  Cody my friend was gone, replaced by a man whose eyes demanded more. He took two paces, then pinned me to the wall outside the apartment building, searing my lips with a kiss that seemed desperate, as if all the kisses in the world were about to run out.

  It was so different from the gentle peck he’d given me when we last met in the park. My head was spinning.

  I fisted my hands into the front of his t-shirt and pulled him even closer, pressing my lips against his, touching him and tasting him and feeling the weight of his body as he leaned into me.

  My hands gripped his t-shirt still tighter and I felt his fingers rubbing circles on the bare skin above my waistband. I was superheating, a few short steps from exploding. And if I did, I was taking him with me. Or in me. One way or another, I was not letting this man go without a fight.

  Finally, he pulled away, panting slightly, his cheeks flushed and his eyes dark with want.

  “Is that how you say ‘Good morning’ in Kansas?” I asked, breathlessly.

  He shook his head, his mouth solemn, although his eyes danced with naked joy.

  “Nope, that’s a San Deigo wake-up call.”

  “It could catch on,” I smiled weakly, my whole body on fire.

  He stared down at me, letting his eyes take in every part of my body, wholly unapologetic for once. It was like being undressed by the sheer power of his mind. I flushed again, and was about to drag him upstairs.

  But then he sighed, and tugged his eyes away from me.

  “Sorry I attacked you. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

  “I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted you to do that, too. In fact, I’d decided that if you didn’t, I would.”

  The surprise and pleasure on his face made me blush and giggle. God! I hated that. I was not the giggling type. Until I was. Aw, shoot.

  I huffed out quietly and Cody took a deep breath, before towing me toward his truck.

  “Big day, pretty girl. Beginning with breakfast.”

  I let him help me into the truck, then leaned back in my seat, warmed by his possessive touch, stomach rumbling quietly.

  He smiled, and placed another a quick kiss on my lips before starting the truck’s engine. Except this time he held my hand, letting go only to use the turn signal, then immediately taking hold of my fingers again.

  We stopped an hour outside the city to load up on breakfast foods. Well, I did; Cody said he wasn’t hungry, but watched with amusement as I stuffed myself with bacon, eggs and pancakes.

  It was a 10 hour drive to Monument Valley so Cody had reluctantly agreed to let me do my share behind the wheel.
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  Very reluctantly.

  He wouldn’t take his eyes off me the entire time.

  “I’m not going to crash your truck,” I said, testily. “I do know how to drive. I’ve been driving longer that you, Mr. Only-18.”

  “I can’t help it,” he said. “It’s kinda hot seeing you driving my truck.”

  He laughed as I flushed again. He seemed to enjoy getting me all wound up. He’d pay for that later; I’d make sure of it.

  We had lunch at a truck stop forty miles north of Phoenix, but Cody left most of his burritos, saying they were too spicy. I tried to give him some of my tuna sub instead, but he waved me off saying he liked to watch me eat. Yeah, that wasn’t going to make me feel self-conscious at all.

  I slept for a couple of hours in the afternoon as we headed steadily north, and when I woke, we were only fifty miles from the Utah border. Well, that’s not entirely the truth. I woke up, but stayed with my eyes closed as I took the time to really consider what I was doing here and how this amazing boy—man—had turned my life around to the point where everything I thought I believed in suddenly seemed wrong, or out-dated.

  He’d come to mean so much to me, but he was holding himself back and I didn’t know why. I didn’t understand how one minute he could kiss me like he needed my air to breathe, and the next he treated me like I was his little sister or something.

  He wanted me to be part of his wish-list—hell, it even had a couple of my wishes on it, including the one about spending the night under the stars. And I’d seen the sleeping bags in the back of his truck before we left San Diego.

  Which was something else we hadn’t discussed. Sleeping.

  Or not sleeping, which bothered me more.

  “I know you’re awake.”

  His voice made me sit up guiltily.

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  His laugh was silky and his beautiful lips quirked upward.

  “You snore when you’re asleep.”

  “I do not!”

  “You sound like a groundhog or something, all these cute little snuffling sounds.”

  “You’re so mean!”

  “And your mouth drops open, so you probably drool, too.”

  “Stop it!”