Rules of Rain

by Leah Scheier

  He shrugs and slides his glasses off his nose. “It happened at my last school. Look, I’m not exactly homecoming king.” God, those eyes are even more potent without the frames. I’m finding it hard to concentrate on what he’s saying.

  “But why would you think I was trying to prank you? Who does that? Who would find that funny?”

  He blinks at me in surprise. “Thousands of people, apparently.” He hesitates and slides his glasses back into place. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

  “No. Not a clue!”

  “Wait. So you haven’t seen—” He hesitates again, and the doubt in his eyes flickers out. “Oh. Oh, man. I just assumed you’d seen that clip…and you were trying for the sequel.”

  I pick up my phone. “What clip?”

  He reaches out to block my hand. “Please don’t. I know I can’t stop you from looking after I go. But at least don’t do it in front of me.”

  “Internet bullies?”

  “Yeah. At my last school. They said it served me right for thinking that the prettiest girl in the grade actually liked me. Apparently I had it coming.”

  “Then why did you ask me for a study date? If you thought I was like those people?”

  “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think. Hope texted me after the lab explosion and told me to give you a call. She said you were having trouble with chemistry and needed my help. That’s what made me suspicious. People ask me for free tutoring all the time. I know that girls notice my grades, not me. But you don’t need my help. Then I started wondering if you made that experiment explode on purpose. That all of this was part of some elaborate joke. I hoped that I was wrong. But I didn’t want to make a fool of myself again.”

  His honesty disarms me and my frustration melts in a moment. “You mean more than I just did?” I ask, smiling. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  He grins at me. “Well, just now I was thinking that my only hope of acing chemistry is if I suddenly discover I’m gay.”

  “What?”

  “Because it’s distracting.”

  “What is?”

  “Your face.”

  I can’t think of a response to that. Our conversation is so broken that I’m not sure where to begin. And Liam’s blush is so deep that it just adds to my embarrassment.

  “What I meant was,” he concludes meekly. “It’s hard to concentrate on chemistry when you’re sitting there.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. You’re basically the chemistry antitutor. You make me stupid.”

  It’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever gotten. But it makes me smile anyway. His expression visibly relaxes. “I’ve always thought you were pretty, Rain,” he admits after a moment.

  “But…” I protest weakly, “but you didn’t even know my last name.”

  “I lied. Of course I knew your name. I was freaking out yesterday that you were going to be my lab partner. But then you started acting so…uh—”

  “Batshit crazy?”

  He chuckles. “Well…yeah. So I thought baffled ignorance was my best bet. At that moment.”

  “I get that. But why didn’t you say anything before? I mean—if you liked me—” I pause, uncertain. That’s what he’d just admitted, right? I hadn’t imagined it?

  He nods heavily, and the old tired look settles over his features. “I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

  “Just try,” I urge him. “I’m not going to judge.”

  “It’s just that I’ve never really asked a girl out. After what happened at my last school I decided to play it safe—at least through high school. Ever since I got here, I’ve only had one goal—to get the hell out. So I wasn’t going to get attached to anybody. I wasn’t going to care.”

  “Yet you still came over here today.”

  He shrugs and glances back at me. “Yeah. First time I didn’t follow my own advice. Couldn’t help myself. Anyway, I was ninety-five percent sure you weren’t interested. So there wasn’t any real danger.”

  “Danger? Liam, that’s an awful way to look at people.”

  He looks surprised and a little hurt. “It isn’t personal,” he says defensively. “I haven’t gotten close to anyone here.”

  “I know. That’s awful too.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to judge.”

  “I’m not judging you. I just can’t imagine living like that.”

  “Well, you don’t live in my house.”

  That shuts me up. I feel my face get hot, and I drop my eyes. He’s right, I think. I don’t know his story.

  “Look, I’m not expecting forever either,” I say after a moment. “We’re only sixteen.”

  He shoots me a doubtful smile. “I thought you prefer to plan everything, to play it safe. Like me.”

  “Yeah, I also believe in trying new things. Like algae.” I’m all cool confidence now, which is a nice improvement from wheezing and sweating. I throw him a flirtatious wink, but he just stares at me. “And I’m trying to be spontaneous for a change.”

  “Spontaneous?”

  “Sure. That’s why I told you how much I like your face.”

  He grins. “Yeah. Right after you tried to blow me up in chemistry lab.”

  “Oh, that was just me playing hard to get.”

  We’re both laughing now, and I try to freeze this perfect snapshot in my mind. I want to remember it. I inch a little closer to him and gently nudge the pudding cup out of the way.

  And then Ethan appears behind us. “It’s five o’clock,” he says.

  The moment’s over.

  “Right. I better go.” Liam sweeps his books off the table and stuffs them into his bag.

  “Rain, it’s getting late,” Ethan urges. “You don’t even have your tennis shoes on.”

  “One more minute,” I tell him. “I’ll just say goodbye to my friend, okay?”

  We walk out onto the porch, and I shut the door behind us. “I want you to know, I’m not going to look,” I tell him as he turns to leave.

  “What?”

  “I’m not going to watch the YouTube clip. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” He hesitates for a moment. “It got three thousand views,” he says. “I can’t believe no one at Clarkson High has seen it.”

  “It was more than a year ago, right? And three thousand views is hardly viral.”

  “Everything feels viral in high school.”

  I can hear the shame in his voice; the memory still stings him like a new wound. It’s no wonder he wants to play it safe. I know a small part of him still doesn’t believe I like him, even after I told him. He’s holding his breath, waiting for the “gotcha” moment and for it to all come crashing down around him. And I realize he’s never going to reach through the wall he’s built, not unless I pull some bricks out for him first.

  He slides his glasses off his nose and rubs the lenses with his sleeve. If there’s ever a moment to be spontaneous, it’s now. I want to blot out any doubt in his mind. I want him to go home happy tonight. But I have less than a minute to act; my brother is inside literally counting the seconds.

  I can’t think or analyze or plan. Just this once, I have to grab the moment. So I do. Rather, I grab Liam.

  I step forward and wrap my hands around his neck. He startles so hard that he drops his glasses. As they hit the ground, I lean up and kiss him. I miss his lips by a little and have to go in again. Then there’s a little awkwardness due to a miscalculation of nose angles and some embarrassed laughter as they knock together. We get it right by the third try.

  “There,” I say after I catch my breath. “Do you believe me now?”

  I take his speechlessness as a yes. He runs a shaky hand through my hair. The tremble of his fingers is the hottest thing I can imagine.

  “There’s a Hallowe
en party next Saturday at Kathy’s house,” I whisper.

  “Okay.” He’s still staring at my lips.

  “Her parents are out of town.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  I smile. “I’m asking if you want to come with me.”

  “Next Saturday? Sure. Okay.” I get the feeling he would have agreed to lion taming lessons on the moon right now.

  “Rain!” Ethan throws the door open and drums his foot against the mat.

  Liam jumps away from me and picks up his glasses. “Okay. Bye, then,” he calls and stumbles down the porch stairs.

  As he disappears around the corner, I do a little dance of joy around the porch. A party with Liam! The super serious guy with the weight of the world on his shoulders is coming with me to a party. Our first real (no parents) party. It seems too good to be true.

  And then Ethan speaks again.

  “So what are you going to tell Mom?”

  I hadn’t considered Mom at all. I know exactly what she’d say. She wouldn’t need three adjectives either. No “responsible” daughter of hers would ever—ever—

  “I won’t say there’s a party. I’ll tell her I’m going to Kathy’s house.”

  He considers for a moment. “Why can’t we tell her about the party?”

  We?

  “Because,” I explain patiently. “That will lead to more questions. And probably a call to Kathy’s parents. And the party will be canceled.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, Efan.” I sigh as he drops my tennis shoes in front of me. “There’s going to be beer and stuff. And since I’ve never been in trouble in my entire life, it’s not that big of a deal to bend the rules a little bit. This once.” I let him ponder that as I duck into the house to change into my running clothes. He doesn’t say anything when I join him outside; we jog silently down the stretch to the ice cream shop and round the corner to return home before he finally speaks again. “I’ll tell Mom that I’m going to Kathy’s house too,” he remarks calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “What?” I stop suddenly in place and stare at him even as he continues past me, oblivious.

  A few paces forward, he realizes I’m no longer next to him, and he turns to face me, confused. “I said I’ll tell Mom—” he begins before I cut him off.

  “I heard you. Where do you plan on going Saturday night?”

  “The party. At Kathy’s.” How does he manage to destroy everything while wearing such a blank and innocent expression?

  “What?”

  “The party—”

  “Stop repeating yourself!” I exclaim. “I can hear. I just can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

  “Okay.” He doesn’t look hurt at all. Considering my tone and the pissed off expression on my face, I’d say that is one of the miracles of autism. Or maybe it’s just Ethan, I don’t know. “What can’t you believe?” he asks.

  “That you want to go. To a party.”

  “Oh. Hope asked me to go with her,” he responds in that infuriatingly even tone of his. “She texted me while you were studying with Liam. Here, I can show you—” He begins to pull out his phone.

  “You don’t have to prove it to me,” I interrupt. “But Efan—”

  “We have to finish our run,” he mutters, looking up at the sky with growing concern. “It’s going to get dark.”

  “Fine,” I respond irritably. “Never mind. I’ll just talk to Hope. I have no idea why she asked you to go to a Halloween party. She must have lost her mind.” I take off down the path in a rapid sprint, and after a couple of minutes I hear Ethan behind me panting and struggling to keep up.

  We’re close to home by the time he finally catches up. His face is flushed, and his eyes are shining with a strange light. He’s usually all pepped up after our run, but today there’s something new there, something underneath the surface that I’ve never seen before. And that something is freaking me out.

  “I think she asked me because she wants to go to the party with me,” he states quietly, as if there hadn’t been any break in our conversation. “I don’t think she’s lost her mind. But you can talk to her if you’re not sure.”

  From anyone else’s lips those words would have been loaded with injured pride and sarcasm. He would have spat them at me angrily before storming off to slam his door. But from Ethan, the declaration rings pure and simple, untainted by malice or double meaning. And I stand there totally speechless, shamed silent by his sincerity.

  Chapter 8

  I mention the party to Mom the following day, and she barely even notices. Of course I call it a “get-together” instead of party. And I don’t say that Ethan wants to go too. I’ll have to reveal that part later, after I’ve introduced her to Liam. I’ve never talked about him before (there was nothing to talk about), but if he’s going to be hanging out at my house, I should at least get her used to the idea. So I start with that.

  “Liam?” she says, her eyes suddenly alive with interest. “Is he one of your friends?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” Friend is as much as I can call him, despite the bumpy kiss.

  “Wait. Do you mean Liam Franklin?”

  I give her a strange look. “How do you know his name?”

  “It’s a small town, Rain.”

  “You’ve met his parents?”

  “No. His mom isn’t in the picture as far as I can tell. But I know his dad. Most people do.” I’m suddenly scared of what she’s about to reveal.

  “What’s wrong with his dad?”

  She shakes her head. “He’s one of those guys who’s probably a social worker’s knock away from losing his kid. He works for a trucking company, and as far as I know he’s barely home.”

  I stare at her quietly. So far so good. All familiar information. But what else did she know?

  “There was a custody question some years ago,” she continues. “His grandmother consulted me, actually. But I had to tell her that it wasn’t my area of expertise. I have no idea why someone who’s always on the road insisted on taking back his son after all those years. The boy was obviously better off with his grandma in Missoula, even if she was too old to look after him. Anyway, in the end, Liam came to live with his dad in that old trailer park behind the strip mall.”

  The trailer park? How did I not know that? A few of the other students in my class lived there, but somehow I’d never associated that place with Liam. There were decent, respectable trailer parks in our county. But that area was definitely not one of them.

  “I didn’t realize he lived there.”

  “Well, I can’t imagine it’s something he would advertise. I assume he hasn’t invited you over.”

  “No.”

  She crosses her arms and puts on her stern parenting face. “You know you’re not allowed to go over there, right?”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay.”

  “Good.” The Mom face melts. “Because that man is not someone I want around my daughter.”

  Despite never having met the guy, I’m suddenly pissed on his behalf. “Mom, you don’t even know him.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “I know that he’s a drunk. And mean. And a gambler. I think that’s enough to go on, don’t you?”

  Well, I’d gotten my three adjectives. Or two nouns and an adjective, anyhow. “So what? You can’t judge a kid by his father!”

  “I’m not. I just don’t want you hanging out there, that’s all.”

  “Why? Because his dad abandoned him? You could say the same thing about me and Ethan!”

  Her face hardens. She has way more than three adjectives to describe my dad. And not one of them is complimentary. “Yeah, well, you have a mother who stuck around.”

  Yeah, and you never stop reminding me, I think.

  “Speaking of fathers, did you know that your brother speaks t
o that man almost every day?” she says.

  “Yeah, Ethan told me.”

  She shrugs and runs her fingers through her fair hair. It’s funny how much my brother resembles her on the outside but is so different on the inside. But then, Ethan is unlike most people.

  “Well, I guess I shouldn’t take it personally,” she mutters, waving a dismissive hand. “I suppose they don’t teach loyalty in all those therapy sessions.”

  “Mom!”

  “Oh, I know Ethan’s not trying to hurt me.”

  “Of course he’s not! All he’s doing is talking to him. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Really? I’ve spent every free hour of my life tending to Ethan’s needs, and he turns to the man whose only contribution is a monthly check?”

  A pretty large monthly check, I think. We could easily live on what my father sends, even without my mother’s income. But still, I see her point. “I can try to talk to Ethan, if you want.”

  “No, he’s made his choice. We all make choices, Rain. And then we have to live with them. I’m just glad one of you understands.”

  She smiles at me fondly and draws me into her arms for a warm hug. I return her embrace, but my heart isn’t in it. Am I supposed to feel proud of myself because I chose her over my father? Is that what she’s saying? I imagine she’s telling me that one of my adjectives is “loyal.” And I try to appreciate the compliment behind her hug. But in that moment, I have a surge of strong emotion, like a bitter aftertaste, and it feels like the exact opposite of loyalty.

  Cooking with Rain

  SERENITY THROUGH YOUR GUT

  Heartburn and indigestion? Stressful conversation with parents? Try Rain’s soy milk ice cream topped with olive oil and sea salt!

  Chapter 9

  There’s some sort of stomach flu outbreak at school a couple of days later, and I show up to find that half the class and most of our teachers are out sick. Early that morning I’d gotten a dramatic text from Hope declaring, “Dying from puke. Pray for me.” And later Kathy sends me a message begging me to pick up that day’s assignments for her. Marcus is also ill (he and Kathy share a bloodstream, after all), so I make a mental note to stop by both their houses and then go to Hope’s.