Waves - Book #2 [completed]

6 ~ Epibreren

Epibreren
(Dutch)
noun
To give the appearance of being busy when in reality you're being super lazy.

Here's the reason why I don't like small towns: There is nothing fun to do – even less when the weather's bad. I wouldn't even call Connor Head a town. It's a fucking village and it's been raining for the past two days, so there's nothing to do and kill time with other than watching TV, which is really fucking boring.

There aren't any video games in the house and I made sure to order a PlayStation in case that ever happens again, but it says the delivery will take another week, so I'm pretty fucking bored by now. The only good thing is that the rain cooled down the searing heat a little, but that's about it really. I have no motivation and no desire to go for a run in the rain which would only take an hour and then I'd be back here. So why even bother. Since Rathi and Danny are still gone and left me alone without a car, I can't even go anywhere else.

I sit in the living room with my guitar, trying to get into an inspired mood when I hear a rumble and the front door flies open, sending a cool whoosh of air through the house before I hear two heavy thuds and what sounds like paws scraping over the tiles.

Laying my guitar on the couch, I get up and round the furniture and see a huge fucking dog approaching me and leaving muddy brown paw patches on the clean white floor. "What the hell?"

There are two paper bags sitting in the threshold by the wide-open front door and a person with a pale blue raincoat and another paper bag is jogging towards the entrance to escape the rain that has turned the streets outside into muddy slopes.

I stop in the middle of the room watching the scene unfold before me and let the dog sniff my feet. Its back reaches up to my knees, but despite its size it looks rather friendly with its short white fur, a few brown patches, a pink collar and a waggly tail.

"Shit," raincoat mutters, dropping the third grocery bag in the entryway next to the others and climbing over them. One bag tips over and the contents spill. Apples and cans roll towards me, catching the dog's attention.

Raincoat curses loudly and slams the door shut. Huffing and muttering the coat turns around and a hand slips underneath the hood, shoving it back and revealing a disheveled and angry looking Riley with wild and clammy hair held back in what used to be a fluffy ponytail that hangs fairly low by now.

With a snicker I give her a once over. Despite the rain it's still warm so under the blue raincoat Riley is clad in black yoga pants and a fitted v-neck t-shirt. Her feet are shoved in hunter green rainboots that reach up to her mid-calves and are covered in brown and red mud, similar to the dog's paws.

"Uh, hi?" I chuckle, my mood rising a bit just from seeing her, happy to have some distraction from... doing nothing.

"Hey," Riley mutters, slipping out of her drenched coat and boots. She's barefoot now and bends to pick up her boots. As if she is at her own house, Riley struts off into the small half bath slash laundry room slash storeroom by the front door. I hear some clattering and running water before Riley yells "Baby" and the dog that contently waited at my side takes off towards the bathroom, leaving another row of paw marks on the pristine floor.