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Midnight Downpour

By AC


I’m beginning to regret my promise. You see, yesterday I told my friend that I would meet up with her at 11:11. I didn’t prompt it — she did, and I have no idea why. But to be fair, I couldn’t keep myself from saying “yes,” so I suppose that’s on me. There’s something so sweet about Violet’s smile that I feel so desperate to achieve it in every encounter. So when I agreed to her unexpected proposal, she offered me a grin. But not one of malice. While there was clearly some intention behind it, the expression appeared to be one of excitement. Then again, I’m notoriously awful at reading cues. Plus, my wishful thinking often gets the best of me, so I try to fight it off.

I’m starting to believe that there’s a reoccurring theme with the weather, because every time I see her, the clouds gather and shower over me. It’s weird, considering that it only happens when I’m around her. Other days, the sun even peers through the clouds. It could be taunting me, to be honest. But my mother bought me a black umbrella for Christmas, so that’s keeping most of my vessel dry, minus my shoes. My laces come undone quite easily, since they’re too long for my shoe size. I’ve been meaning to cut them, but I haven’t quite gotten the opportunity. So I suffer the consequence of soaked laces hitting against the back of my jeans. They’re so wet, in fact, that I can’t even tie them to prevent the discomfort. As I look out my window, I can be certain that it will rain all night.

I was originally worried that I would accidentally sleep in, but I should’ve feared the opposite. I couldn’t get an hour of sleep in, anticipation taking over my body. I figured I’d go out a bit earlier, settling for 10:50 instead. That’s why I’m already out here, damp jean cuffs and all. I didn’t know how I was going to make it out without waking my parents, but luck worked in my favor and the mission was successful. Or at least, the first step. However, I didn’t have any capacity in my brain to worry about my parents. All I could think of was Violet.

With that haze quickly spreading through every corner of my brain, I hastily shoved my feet into my black sneakers. I went to bed in jeans, so I didn’t have to worry about that part. I picked my umbrella off the floor and rushed as silently as I could. I clicked my umbrella open and made my way to her house.

The clicking of raindrops splashing on the pavement were all I could hear. There weren’t even cars to drive around and interrupt the peaceful acoustics. Thank God for that. I arrived at her door and checked my watch. 11:09. I don’t think I have ever despised time so much. I feel stupid for not bringing my phone, or anything to distract me while I wait. Fortunately, it didn’t take as much time as I assumed it would. Violet opened the door, and I swear that my heart could’ve been knocked out completely, and she would be the culprit.

“Hey,” she said, smirking.

“Uh, hi,” I responded awkwardly, “Do you...have an umbrella?”

She shook her head, “No, sorry.”

I was embarrassingly quick to reassure her, “No, it’s okay! We can share mine.” She grinned at me like everything was according to plan. The problem was, I didn’t

know what that plan was. “Thanks.”

It was about an hour of us simply strolling around in a loop around our neighborhood.

That’s when I finally worked up the courage to inquire about why she came up with this idea.

“Violet?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you bring me out here?”

She chewed her bottom lip, conjuring a response. “I like spending time with you.” That didn’t help. “But we spend time together already. Why now, at...” I checked my

watch, “...12:01?”

For the first time this night, I saw her confidence fade just a bit. But she continued to respond to my question.

“I really like spending time with you. Like, a lot.”

“I mean yeah, me too.”

It wasn’t clicking, but I could see slight frustration in her eyes. “Do you see me spend this much time with other people?”

Okay, now I started processing. But I still fought off the wishful thinking, “Not...

really...?”

I don’t think she planned out my obliviousness, which she probably should’ve. Her way of managing it? She clutched my umbrella right where my hand was and stepped closer to me...and that’s when she kissed me.

My cheeks must’ve been flushed with various shades of pink, because I could see her begin to regain her confidence. “Does that answer your question?”

Her deadpan expression was not something I was used to, but I figured the best way to respond was to reciprocate. I lightly took her wrist with my other hand and kissed her again. When I broke away, I shrugged and said sarcastically, “Yeah, kinda.”

She chuckled at my annoying joke and rested her head in the crook of my neck. I think I should thank my mom for buying me an umbrella.


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