Chance Of Rain

by Laurel Veil

  “Glad you could make it, woman!” Bri said, as she gave me a hug.

  “I wouldn’t miss it!”

  The smoke got to me, and I sneezed a couple of times.

  “Stand back if you’re coming down with something,” Lacey said in her usual snarky fashion.

  Jason chimed in, “You need something for that, Ash? I can give you a big shot of penis-cillin.” He laughed the loudest.

  I remembered why we didn’t hang out with Jason much.

  “What a perv!” said Bri.

  “Let’s get some tables before they all fill up,” Kayla suggested.

  As soon as we sat down, Bri said, “You’ve got to come over and do this new workout with me. It’s called Booty Blaster!”

  “I saw that on an infomercial the other night. It was like a hundred dollars. How can you afford it?”

  Before she could answer, the MC came on and introduced the band. It was so loud that we couldn’t talk anymore.

  A while later, after the band took a break, the DJ played a slow song. Couples gathered on the dance floor and enjoyed the softer music.

  A moment later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I held my breath and hoped it was Trent. I wasn’t too disappointed when I looked up and saw Angel’s handsome face smiling down at me. He was looking muy delicioso that night.

  He didn’t say a word; he just took my hand and led me to the floor. I wished things could be this comfortable with everyone. Angel had been my friend for so long that everything was easy with him.

  I looked around, desperately hoping to find Trent in the crowd, but he wasn’t anywhere.

  I did see Lindsey and Blake dancing, though. It looked like they were having a good time. Even though I didn’t like Lindsey very much, I was happy for Blake…for them.

  I finally gave up looking for Trent. I decided it wouldn’t be such a good thing if I did find him, because it would mean he had come here without me. And what if I saw him with someone else? I shuddered at the thought, because I knew I’d be devastated. I had to quit thinking about him before I got upset.

  “Do you like working at the theater?” I asked Angel.

  “I do. I think I’ll stick around for a while.”

  We talked about work, and when the song ended, he followed me back to our seats. Along the way he ran into a friend, so I kept going. I had taken only a step when my phone vibrated.

  I took it from my back pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, so I ignored it. A second later it vibrated again.

  “Aren’t you going to answer that?” asked Trent.

  I tried to hide my happiness, but it wasn’t just in my smile; it was all around me, like an energy field. He had the ability to manipulate my freaking aura.

  “I don’t recognize the number, so…no.”

  “You should answer that.”

  I noticed then that Trent had his phone in his hand.

  “Hello?” I said hesitantly into my cell.

  He grinned as he held is own phone to his ear. “Would you care to dance, Miss Devoe?”

  “No, thank you,” I teased, and turned to go.

  I felt a strong arm slide around my waist from behind.

  “Feisty,” he said then took my hand in his and led me to a dark corner of the dance floor, where hardly anyone was around.

  I couldn’t feel my legs. I wasn’t sure how I was able to walk.

  He pulled me close enough to dance. But I wanted to be closer.

  I could barely breathe. It was a good thing too, because his cologne was making me high. I was hyperaware of his palm against my lower back.

  “You’re intoxicating,” he moaned, as he inhaled the scent of my hair.

  There’s no way this guy is seventeen!

  “I think you are intoxicated,” I teased.

  He chuckled. “You’re hilarious, Devoe. I missed you today.”

  He was being playful, but my heart was at his mercy. He looked off but not at anything particular. His eyes were distant, as if he were thinking about something. He did that a lot. He seemed older than most guys our age.

  “How old are you?” I asked him.

  He looked surprised and chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s just that you don’t act like the seventeen-year-olds I know.”

  “Because I’m not seventeen.” He smiled.

  Now it was my turn to look surprised. “What? Did you fail a couple of times?”

  He laughed.

  “How old are you?” I asked him again.

  “You’re not going to ask me if I’m a vampire, are you?”

  I played along. “Well…I don’t know much about you. Are you?” “No,” he whispered, so closely that his lips touched my ear and sent surges of energy through me.

  I giggled and pushed myself away with little effort.

  “That reminds me,” he continued. “I heard you have a birthday coming up very soon.”

  “And just where did you happen to hear that?”

  “I can’t remember,” he said with a smile. We both knew it was Bri. “Do you know what you want?”

  Yes, you. “I-I haven’t thought about it.”

  “Well, you think about it, and let me know,” he said with a chuckle.

  He’s laughing, and I have JELL-O for legs.

  When the song ended, we were still in our own little world, hidden in the dark corner of the dance floor. Wreckage’s drummer already was tapping the rhythm on his sticks for the band’s next song.

  “Let’s get back before all the seats get taken,” I suggested.

  “Let’s not.” Trent grinned and pulled me by the hand to a nearby table for two in the corner. “This’ll work,” he said, pulling a chair out for me.

  He sat down to the left of me, his back facing the crowd. “I’m starting to think you’re ashamed to be seen with me,” I teased.

  He ignored my comment as he set his keys and phone on the table and straddled his chair. “I think I need a drink. You want something?

  “I’d love a Dr Pepper. Would you mind grabbing me a water too?” I batted my eyes.

  Trent pinched my cheek. “Be right back.” For a second I felt like I was his fat little sister.

  There was a long line at the bar. He was going to be a while. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I saw some girls looking at him, and I wanted to jump up and yank their hair. Get back! He’s my…friend.

  He’d only been gone for a couple of minutes when a loud ringtone blared from his phone. It was so loud that a couple of people near me gave me an annoyed look; I guess it was interfering with Wreckage. I quickly answered it to make it stop.

  When I clicked “Accept Call” on his cell, my embarrassment ended immediately.

  I held the phone to my ear. Before I could say anything, the voice on the other line said, “Hello? Hello? Trent, you there?”

  I froze. And then I said, “Dad?”

  There was a long silence, and then the line went dead.

  I felt numb. I was 99.9 % sure it was Mark Devoe. Why on earth would my father be calling Trent?

  I tried to think about what I should do next, but my thoughts were spinning in a million directions. I quickly decided I probably shouldn’t say anything to Trent because what if I was wrong—and I probably was—and it wasn’t my dad? Then he’d think I was psycho. He probably wouldn’t like the fact that I’d answered his phone either.

  I turned to see where Trent was. He’d probably be back soon. I took my cell out of my pocket then went to “Recent Calls” on his phone. I looked behind me. I still had a few seconds. I quickly typed the number into my phone. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it yet. Maybe I’d call it anonymously from a public phone—who knew—but at least I had the number. I could always decide what to do with it later.

  Trent reached around me and set down two sodas and a glass of water. “No spills,” he said proudly. “Pretty talented, huh?”

  “Thanks.” I took a gulp of water. I didn’t realize how thirsty I
was. “You don’t happen to know my dad, Mark Devoe, do you?” So much for not saying anything.

  I don’t know if it was because I was looking for it, but I thought I saw a subtle change in his expression. He took a sip and placed his glass on the small table. “Why would you ask me that?” he said, puzzled.

  “You answered my question with a question.”

  “Sorry, but this is sorta random,” he said apologetically.

  Uh-oh. He’s right. I feel stupid.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just that while you were gone your phone went off. It was so loud that I picked it up to make it stop. I promise I wasn’t being nosy. Anyway, I know it sounds crazy, but I could have sworn it was my dad’s voice on the other end of the line.” Oh…that does sound crazy now that I’ve said it out loud. I should’ve stuck with the original plan.

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.” He gave me an understanding smile.

  Just then Angel passed us on his way to the bar.

  “I didn’t steal you away from your dance partner, did I? Trent asked me.

  I feigned a guilty smile.

  “I’m just giving you a hard time, Devoe.”

  Trent went to the restroom as I made my way to Bri.

  Lindsey and Blake approached me a second later. “So I see you were able to make it after all,” said Blake.

  “Yeah…I got finished early.” I smiled and quickly changed the subject.

  I looked at Lindsey, who clearly was trying her best to ignore me, and said the first thing that came to mind. “I like your hair. It looks really pretty.” There—maybe now she’ll like me.

  She usually wore her hair down at work, but tonight she had it twisted and pulled back, away from her face with rhinestone clips. It really did look nice.

  She smiled. “Thanks!” Bingo! It worked!

  Just then someone pulled me away by the arm. I tried to stop Jason from leading me to the dance floor. He was having fun, but he was being rough and hurting my arm.

  “Jason.” No response. “Jason!” He finally stopped.

  “Sorry. I’m waiting on someone,” I said.

  He pulled me close, and laughing, he said, “Rude much, Ashley?”

  I tried to push away.

  “Aw, come on. One little dance.”

  He reeked of beer.

  “You’re drunk, Jason. You can barely stand much less dance.”

  He got in my face and whispered, “I’ll lean on you.”

  “I don’t think so.” I tried to smile, but he was really annoying me. When I turned to go, he grabbed my wrist and jerked my arm. I looked at him with surprise. “Jason, that’s not funny!” He wasn’t smiling anymore, though.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Trent. His mouth was tight, his jaw clenched. He didn’t say a word. He looked at Jason then down at Jason’s hand, which was still latched around my wrist. Jason immediately released it.

  “I was just playing around, man. No hard feelings,” he told Trent. Then he looked at me. “Right, Ash?”

  “Right,” I said flatly.

  Jason left, and Trent looked down at me. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes.” He smiled and gave me a quick hug. “I know you need to get home soon, but can I get one last dance?”

  We walked back to our corner and held on to each other for two glorious minutes.

  Trent walked me to my car. “Don’t leave just yet. I want to follow you and make sure you get home, OK?”

  He’s sooo sweet! I nodded. He stood there watching as I got into my car. I rolled down my window and closed the door. “Thanks for helping me back there,” I told him.

  He leaned down so that he was level with my window and looked me in the eye. “Thank you for saving me the last dance.” He reached in and took my hand from the steering wheel and drew it to his mouth. He gently pressed it to his warm, soft lips.

  My stomach felt like it did when I first rode the Tower of Terror—but in a good way.

  XIV

  80 %

  I absolutely loved Saturdays. I slept in then fiddled with my weather station on the patio for a while. It tells me things like the temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure, the wind speed and direction. It’s really cool…when it’s working. It was on the fritz again. The screen was so covered in funk that it was getting hard to read anyway. Maybe that’s what I’d tell Trent I wanted for my birthday. Nothing says “romance” like a weather station.

  Later I headed to Bri’s. We had plans to do some booty blasting. And then, knowing Bri, we’d probably go out afterward for doughnuts.

  Bri opened the door before I walked up. She was wearing a bright-orange spandex body suit, and her hair was pulled back. She was also donning rainbow leg warmers and a matching headband. She looked content as she sucked on the long straw of a very large strawberry-banana smoothie. Bri was so crazy that she made me feel sane. She did it on purpose to make me feel better, because she was that kind of friend.

  “Wow!” I said, as I looked her up and down. I waved my cell at her. “Hey, the eighties called, and they want their crappy clothes back.”

  “Hardy-har-har, Devoe.” She stepped back and let me enter. “My mom’s meeting Sugar Daddy for breakfast, so we can blast our boo-tays freely in the den.”

  Being friends with other girls was too much work. I know; I tried. My friendship with Bri, however, was effortless. All I had to do was show up.

  As I followed her into the den, I recalled a memory from my pre-Bri era. It was when I’d tried to be besties with Megan Jones. Talk about high maintenance. I feel sorry for the future Mr. Megan.

  One time that witch Lacey smeared chocolate pudding on my seat at the lunch table. Of course, as planned, I didn’t see it and sat down. I was so humiliated! The very next day, I saw Megan talking to Lacey like they were best buddies. When I questioned Megan about it, she was, like, “What’s the big deal? Lacey has never done anything to me.” I felt so betrayed. Bri never would have done something like that. She was more loyal than a St. Bernard. Her motto was “You mess with Ashley, you mess with me!” I felt the same way about her.

  “So how on earth did you afford the Booty Blaster workout? Was it J.T.?” I asked.

  “Nope. But with the raise he gave my mom, she could afford it. He got a big contract with the county to add some pavilions, a new arena, and some warehouses and things like that to the fairgrounds. She did buy me the new wardrobe she promised, though!”

  “For real?”

  “Yeah, we ordered everything online. I should start receiving stuff any day now.”

  Bri turned on the TV and DVR. “This didn’t cost me a dime.” She clicked the remote and navigated through the menu until she reached “Recordings.” “Here we go,” she said. “Get ready.”

  I doubled over in laughter when I realized what she had done. “You recorded the infomercial for Booty Blaster?”

  “Yep. Pretty smart, huh?” she said smugly.

  I could tell she was pleased with herself. “They show all the best moves right here. We’ll just repeat them over and over for the next half hour or so.”

  I had to admit, Bri was brilliant. We had a fantastic workout, and it didn’t cost us a cent.

  I was glad to get home so I could shower and rest.

  I saw a note from my mom on the counter. She was showing houses all day. I looked in the freezer and saw we had some hamburger meat. Then I looked in the pantry and found a jar of spaghetti sauce and a box of noodles. I decided to call her and find out when she’d be home so I could have dinner ready when she arrived.

  I picked up the phone and dialed. A few seconds later, I heard ringing through the phone, but I also heard ringing from somewhere in the house. I walked around until I found it. My mom had left her personnel cell next to her alarm clock on her nightstand. Seriously, Mom? Why can’t you use just one phone like the rest of us?

  I picked it up and noticed she had other missed calls. I scanned through her phone and stopped
when something caught my eye.

  I quickly ran to retrieve my cell. I scrolled through until I found what I was looking for. My mom had the same number in her phone that I’d copied the other night from Trent’s!

  WTH? I felt a little dizzy. I sat down on the cedar chest at the foot of her bed. That had to have been my dad. I’m not crazy after all.

  I scanned through her phone some more. It was a good thing I was already sitting down. Because I discovered she had Trent’s number in there as well!

  I wasn’t sure what any of this meant. And I definitely didn’t know what to do next. I sat there for a while, thinking about everything, and then it hit me. Bri would know what to do.

  I put my mom’s phone back where I had found it. Then I went to my room and texted Bri.

  Need to talk! Lunch?

  She must have had her phone in her hand.

  I can be ready in 10.

  That’s my Bri, always there for me. I showered and dressed and flew out the door.

  Honk! Honk!

  “Is something wrong?” Bri asked the second she got in.

  I drove slowly so I could think. I told her about my spying on my dad and discovering he was having a secret affair…with my mom.

  “No way! I’m so glad I wasn’t there for that!”

  I told her that I thought I’d heard my dad’s voice when I answered Trent’s phone and that I saw the same number on my mom’s cell only a few minutes ago.

  I could tell she was thinking, because she wasn’t saying a word. “Then what?” she asked eagerly.

  I told her how, even though I’d never called Trent, his number was in my phone from when he called me. “And?” she encouraged.

  “I just found Trent’s number in my mom’s phone!”

  “What? Why would she have Trent’s number? How did she get it? And why would your dad be calling Trent? He hardly speaks to you!”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what to do. That’s why I’m telling you. What do you think? Wait…Hold that thought. We’re here.”

  I put on my blinker, and we coasted into the parking lot of the Gnarled Oak.