The Bikini Syndrome | WATTYS2019

» fourteen: rainy night thoughts

Holly couldn't sleep. The sky was grey and watery, and only the smallest sliver of the moon dared to shine.

It cast only enough light for her to see the light drizzle of rain that fell gently from the dark, pregnant clouds and drip onto the ground and her windowsill with barely a pit, pit, pit.

The rain created the perfect atmosphere to think. She padded out of her room and into the small reading room (a cylindrical thing, like round elevator) which she called The Nest, because it where she liked to lay on the giant beanbag in the right curved side of the room and read a book on sunny, lazy days. She didn't do that right now though. For one, it was night, and for another, she wasn't in the mood to get lost in a story.

Instead, she unlocked the clear door that lead out to the balcony and closed it gently behind her as she shivered in the cool rainy-weather air.

It smelled of earth and chemicals, and that strong, pungent, but not entirely unpleasant smell that was always associated with rain.

She sat down in one of the wicker chairs that her mother had painstakingly arranged (well, her mother had scrutinized and directed while her father had painstakingly arranged) besides some plant they'd bought from Home Depot. There was only one bring pink bloom on it right now.

She took on deep breath of the rainy weather. Then she looked out at the main road and wondered if Oliver might be looking at it to. If he had looked at it this afternoon. If perhaps, he driven on that very road, right past her house without knowing. She wondered that maybe, if she sat here tomorrow, just sat here, he'd pass by and he'd see her and he'd drive into the community and want to talk to her. Or, he'd see her and think of what they'd share earlier that day.

Her lips still tingled at the thought of the kiss.

I wonder if he thinks about it too. Or if, to him, it was nothing. It didn't mean anything.

Had her lack of confidence driven him away? Was that it?

The thought suddenly struck her just as something brilliantly white flashed in the sky, seemingly right above her. She absentmindedly started to count the seconds.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

The thunder rumbled. The lightning was about 2 miles away. She should be safe. But she should go in soon, before she caught a cold. She still had work tomorrow.

Did she want to go though?

Did she really want to face Oliver?

She knew she should.

She had a job. She should do it. She had to do it.

School started in mid-August anyway. It was already halfway through July now. She only had four more weeks. It couldn't be that hard.

In fact, the two of them hadn't even started talking until maybe two weeks ago. She could go back to silence. And when the school year came, it would be considerably easier to ignore him. She'd go find another job. Or maybe, she wouldn't have to work. But she knew that was impossible.

But by August, there were sure to be a few available spots at the Starbucks down the street as the summer-timers packed up and left, going back home, back to school, back to wherever.

Until then, she promised herself. Then I free myself from Oliver and I focus on school. I focus on having friends and life. I stop caring about boys. Just as Mom said. I'll wait until college. Find a good guy. Date him. Marry him. Maybe.

Was it really just that simple?

A small part of her didn't want to do it. She didn't want the end of her and Oliver to be like this. To be this...certain, this quick. She had wanted something else. Something longer. Something sweeter.

It wasn't meant to be, she thought, then snorted and added, That was the most cliched, pathetic thought of the century.

She shook her head at herself, feeling slightly better, and went back into the house, trailing water and cold and the smell of rain as she made her way back to her room. She didn't even bother to change, diving right under her covers.

In fact, she hadn't felt the cold at all.