Rain

CW: Language, Domestic Violence

Shhhhh…

The rain outside his house fell in such heavy sheets that her rainjacket was next to useless under it. She rapped on the windowpane with such precision that anyone would believe she’d done this a dozen times.

Tap… Tap… Tap, tap… Tap...

And they’d be right.

He slid open the window and she clambered ungracefully inside. She barely had time to shed her rain-soaked jacket before he had her against the wall, the open window long-forgotten in his drunken haze.

“Where you been?”

“It’s pouring. Where the hell do you think I’ve been?”

“Well, I… I just hope you’re not sneaking around with some other guy is all.”

“Why would I do that? I got Prince Charming right in front of me.”

That's a lie.

…

They’ve been silent for too long.

My footsteps are noiseless under the steady rainfall as I slink beneath the forgotten windowpane. The awning above it was convenient for both the two lovebirds and myself, as the ground beneath it remained desert-dry through the storm and didn’t let a drop of rain into his bedroom.

Crash!

One of them was throwing something again. Hard to know who, they traded often. 

“Stop being such a fucking brat!”

“I’m the brat? You’re the one who’s throwing shit!”

I guess it’s his turn this week.

“Just come here. Why do you always have to make this so difficult?”

Crash! Thud!

I can’t believe his parents don’t hear them.

“I’m not being difficult, I just want you to listen to me for once in your life.”

“You’re one to talk about listening.”

“Don’t even fuckin’ go there, Chance.”

Thud.

They fell silent. 

Then, just as the urge struck me to peer through the windowpane and ensure that he hadn’t done anything devious…

Thud… Thud… Thud, thud, thud, thud…

Great. We’ve made it to this part of the night.

I will never understand why someone so good ends up with someone who treats them so bad.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It makes zero sense. Every time she comes over here they get into an argument, at least four times I’ve seen her walk to her car crying, and they are always, always throwing things.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

And sneaking through the window? I mean, come on. He could be more of a gentleman than that, couldn't he? I bet she hasn't even met his parents.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

She deserves better than him. She could do so, so much better than this guy.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

But she’s settling. She’s settling for a guy who’s never gonna be more to her than a Friday night hookup. A guy who she’s never, ever going to marry. A guy who can’t give her a house behind a picket fence, the thing I know she wants more than anything in the world.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

So why this guy? Why does she think that she deserves this guy? Or that this guy deserves her?

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

“Shit!”

But I guess some things just make up for that.

How long was that, ten minutes? Better than last time, I suppose.

Now they’re just gonna lay there. I press up on my tiptoes to peer through the window, just enough to see the two of them all curled up beneath his comforter. 

Well, he’s all curled up. She’s staring at the ceiling with her hands folded neatly over her chest because there is no way that that was good for her. 

Why? I think. Why would you ever do this? What would ever make you end up with a guy like that? 

"I have to pee. Be right back." She kisses his forehead. Yuck.

I turn away and slump against the wall under the window, out of sight, as she gets up and walks to the bathroom. She's probably going in there to finish herself off after whatever that was they just did. I'd barely call it sex. Or maybe she just doesn't want a UTI. The world may never know.

But I sure would love to.

I hear his bedroom door open and her gentle, soft footsteps padding back to that monster in the bed.

Don't get back in bed, I think. Don't do it. Climb out the window. Climb into my arms. He's probably asleep anyway, what's he gonna do? I could take care of you.

But of course, she does. Of course, she goes back to him just like she always has. Probably always will. Just as I’m about to walk away from this whole impossible situation…

“If you wanna run away with me I know a galaxy and I could take you for a ride.”

Is he… singing? Better yet, is he singing Dua Lipa?

“I had a premonition that we fell into a rhythm and the music don’t stop for life.”

She’s singing back. God, her voice is perfect.

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in my eyes, shining just the way you like.” A perfect little duet. 

“If you’re feeling like you need a little bit of company you met me at the perfect time.” He must not know the words to that part.

“You want me.”

“I want you, baby.”

“My sugarboo.”

“I’m levitating.”

“The Milky Way.”

“We’re renegading.”

Then, I whisper along with them.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” 

“Wait,” she says. “Did you hear that?”

“Hm?”

“I heard something.”

“The only thing I heard was you being a little pitchy on that last bit.”

How dare he.

“No, no, there was like… It was like someone whispering or something.”

Shit.

“Like… What do you mean?”

“Like someone was whispering the song with us.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I think you’re being paranoid.” For once I will her to listen to him. “It’s just because we left that window open. You’re hearing things.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe we left that thing open.”

Well, actually he left it open, but it’s fine. Take the blame for that toxic son of a bitch, see where it gets you.

I hear the window slide shut above me. Can’t believe there’s not a screen in that thing. Doesn’t he know he’s gonna get a shit ton of mosquitoes by leaving it open like that?

It’s hard to make out the rest of their conversation. 

Something, something… A lot of fun… Something, something… Feels so good… Something, something… Next week…

Ugh. Please, God, don't go back to him next week.

As she slides the window open, I pad quietly over to a dark corner of the backyard. Without the rain to cover my footsteps, I’m being a little risky. She climbs out of his bedroom, far more elegantly than how she came in, and runs out to her car, hair flowing effortlessly behind her as she goes. I watch her open the car door and look back at the window. I shrink into the shadows, hoping she doesn’t look over to see the glint of a black Vans sneaker or the shine of a pair of Warby Parkers. 

He leans out the window, totally shirtless with that dumbass, crooked smile on his face, waving at her, and she waves back. Disgusting. She climbs into her car, starts it, and drives off. After she’s out of my line of sight, my eyes drift back to the window.

He’s staring straight at me.

Shit.

“Hey, man.” Is he talking to me? Can he see me right now? “Next time, if you really want a show, I’ll let you hide in the closet.”

Then he winks at me and slides the window shut with a loud clunk.

What a creep.