Three years ago, on a Friday night...
It had been raining the entire day,
a sort of drizzle that was only mildly annoying.
But it wasn't until my parents left for the theater that the rain really started coming down.
I watched it for a few minutes before deciding I needed a cup of tea, a few candles, and a movie.
While the kettle was heating up, I thought about inviting Aria.
But she hated going out in the rain.
Better not.
I poured myself some earl grey tea and moved to the couch, where I wrapped myself in a blanket and put on Ten Things I Hate About You.
I was about ten minutes into the movie, and I'd taken about five sips of my tea, when the shouting started.
Curious, I got up to look out the window.
Across the street, in front of the Rogers house, was a man and Grayson Rogers.
The ever so quiet Grayson was shouting, and pulling on the man's -- his father's -- arm.
In the door opening, face streaked with mascara, stood a woman. She was shouting at Grayson to stop, please just stop, while the man was shouting at Grayson to let him go.
Grayson seemed to refuse to do either.
With the same determination he used to teach himself how to ride a bike, Grayson Rogers held onto his father.
But his father was a big man, and Grayson was weak from crying and screaming, so with just a push, he fell backwards, sliding over the wet pavement.
His father got in the car before Grayson could get up again.
I watched everything in horror. I knew the Rogers' fought a lot, but this time felt different. When I saw the car driving away, I knew it would be the last time I ever saw Grayson's father.
His mother shouted at her son, but when he didn't respond, didn't even get up, she just closed the door.
My heart clenched as I watched Grayson Rogers shrink in on himself in the pouring rain, wet clothes sticking to his body and his shoulders shaking.
It wasn't any of my business. I should get back to my blanket, my tea, and my movie.
But I'd been watching Grayson for years. I'd seen him laugh, and cry.
I'd seen him fall and get up, get up, get up.
"Get up," I whispered.
But Grayson Rogers didn't get up this time.
Before I could think it through, I put on my shoes, barely taking the time to tie my shoelaces, before ripping open the front door and running outside.
The pouring rain rushed around me, blinding me within seconds, streaks of it dripping down my glasses.
"What are you doing? Let's get inside!" I shouted, gesturing behind me at the open front door.
Slowly, Grayson looked up, his dark hair plastered to his face.
At first, nothing happened on Falcon Lane. Nothing but two boys looking at each other from a respectable distance apart.
Then, Grayson moved to his feet.
It was too hard to see anything more than movement through the rain, so I took off my glasses. The edges of my world turned blurry and unfocused, but I could see with a startling clarity how Grayson Rogers, after a moment's hesitation, ran towards me.
YOU ARE READING
Monty & Grayson
Romance[COMPLETED] For seven years, Monty has lived across the street from Grayson Rogers. In all those years, they've only talked a handful of times. There's a lot of things Monty knows about Grayson Rogers, and even more he doesn't know. Until one party...
