A rainy Christmas

The rain was coming down so hard I thought it would break the windows of my car. Truth is, I love this weather. But I would rather be cuddled up in my couch, with my notebook, pretending I’m a writer than driving to no particular destination in a car with no heat. It was old.

Last night, my parents had started complaining how I never visited them anymore since I started university and found a job, and invited me to spend Christmas with them. Biting my tongue so I don’t open the ‘‘you are to blame for the fact that I don’t come home anymore’’ conversation, I agreed half-heartedly. I loved Christmas. It was my favorite holiday. At the same time, it made me a little sad. I never got to experience the big family dinners in a decorated house filled with laughter and warmth. The best I got was a very silent dinner with the news playing in the background or a very loud one I would usually ignore. I would much rather listen to music than my parents screaming at each other. But I still loved it. I don’t know if it was because in some way we were programmed to like Christmas since we were kids and we were made to believe that it was magical, or just because I was ignoring reality. The time I actually started enjoying my Christmas was two years ago when I started University and avoided going back home with the excuse that I have to study for the upcoming exams. They always pushed it, but I never caved, until this year.

This year all of my friends decided to return to their homes and no other student was going to stay in school so I had no either choice. The headteacher was looking at me with such pity it made me want to punch him in the face. Basically, I had no either choice but my parents didn’t know that. Jasmine offered to stay with me but her parents wanted to meet her boyfriend so badly I couldn’t make her do that. And Theo offered to take me with him to his village but, honestly, for some reason, I hadn’t thought that it could be this bad coming back home. I guess my mind just needed a little reminder.

I arrived around 11 am. My father was outside, as expected, and my mom had already started cooking for dinner. After a very long hug, I realized how much I had actually missed her. We talked for about an hour and then I offered to help her prepare the food. The whole day passed by fast and before I knew it, it was 8 and we started setting the table. Father had returned and was watching the news, and after 15 minutes we were all seated.

‘‘So, how is school? Learning anything?” my father had asked once we had started eating. The same question every time. Maybe he was waiting to hear the ‘‘school is useless, I should have just stayed home like you said’’ response he so much wanted. He was never gonna get it though.

‘‘School is great. I have passed all my classes and have a very high chance of getting in the students' exchange program.’’ I had realized my mistake a little too late. The table was silent for a little and I braced myself for what I would hear next.

‘‘This is bullshit’’, ‘‘Why didn’t you ask us first’’ ‘‘You’re just leaving so you can do whatever you want without permission’’ were all heard after that, among other things. My mother was silent because she already knew but father was ready to throw me out. Instead of waiting for that I got up, got my bag, and left. Was I disappointed?

Yes. Did I cry? A lot. But was I surprised? Not at all.

So now I was stuck driving in the rain, freezing cause I had forgotten my coat and with nowhere to go. I could stay in a motel, but they’re not the safest place around here. I could stay in my car until tomorrow and then go back to school and put up with the pity looks of the guard but I would probably freeze to death or get killed during the night. Wiping away tears of frustration I noticed I had already arrived at the university. I parked but didn’t get outside. I let out a sigh of desperation and rested my head back.

What should I do, what should I do, what should-

A knock on the window made me jump. I looked at the passenger side but the glass was blurry from the rain. The only thing I could see was a tall figure. I opened the door and a familiar face came inside soaking wet. A face that even though I basically hated, I couldn't deny the relief it made me feel cause I wasn’t alone anymore. Raphael took off his glasses and started running his hands through his hair which was dripping. He looked like Jasmine’s dog after a shower doing that. They had the same black hair too. I was not appreciating the droplets of water coming at me though.

‘‘Excuse me, you are ruining my seat,’’ I said annoyed and he finally turned looking at me.

‘‘Don’t be a drama queen. They needed changing anyway.’’

‘‘How did you even know it was me in the car?’’

He let out a little laugh, ‘‘I could recognize this old thing anywhere.’’

If I wasn’t so tired I would have punched him. It wouldn’t be the first time and certainly not the last.

‘‘What are you doing here? I thought you were visiting your parents.’’

‘‘How did you even know that?’’ Stupid question though cause I already knew the answer I was gonna get.

‘‘I know everything.’’ That’s right.

Rolling my eyes, I started thinking of what excuse to give him. He already knew a lot about me and I didn’t even know how. Every time I asked his answer was ‘‘You’re an open book’’ which was funny cause my last boyfriend left me cause I never talked about myself and was too closed for him to figure out.

‘‘I did go at my parents’ and left after dinner cause I had to come back and finish some assignments.’’ That sounded ridiculous even to me but I didn’t care that much.

‘‘Well aren’t you and your family fast eaters,’’ he said in a mocking tone and I looked at the clock. 10:30. Damn it.

Groaning loudly, I asked more harshly than I intended, ‘‘What do you want Raphael?’’

‘‘Nothing, just wanted to annoy you a little bit.’’ Taking his glasses he opened the door to get out but closed it again.

Reluctantly, he turned and gave me an up and down look.

‘‘So listen,’’ he started, ‘‘ I actually haven’t finished the assignment we have either and as far as I can remember, we have two opposite points to support. Wanna come over and fight over those instead of sitting here and doing whatever you were supposedly doing?’’

My first instinct was to say no. I didn’t want to get help from him cause I didn’t want to owe him anything. He would probably make me do some of his assignments or something. But I had nowhere else to go. And I knew he knew that. Even though, surprisingly, he didn’t directly say it.

Swallowing down my pride and deep down feeling relieved I said,

‘‘Give me the directions.’’