AFTER THE RAIN (Bonus edition)

2. Whatever floats your duck

Marcus heaved a resigned sigh as he got up, straightened the cuffs of his crisp Polo shirt, and walked over to her.

"Stormy-Rain?" He couldn't believe he was actually calling anyone by that name, let alone saying it out loud for the whole damn world to hear.

"Marcus!" she exclaimed brightly, as though she were genuinely happy to see him. They'd never even met. "It's just Stormy, or Rainy, or Rain, or even Rainbow – that's what people usually call me, but if you want to call me Stormy-Rain, that's also okay. Whatever floats your duck."

"Boat," Marcus corrected her instinctively without even thinking.

"Where?" Stormy asked, swiveling her head around as though she were really looking for a boat.

What the hell? Had she really just done that? Looked for a boat? Marcus blinked several times as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. In the few short moments since he'd clapped eyes on her, he'd already taken measure of her personality. And she was utterly ridiculous. She obviously had verbal diarrhea. Add that to her overly-saccharine disposition, and an obvious tendency towards confusion – she was just way, way too much.

"Um... where do you get Rainbow from?" he asked, wanting to change the subject but already grappling to find some common conversational ground between them.

"They come after the stormy rain!" She swooshed her arms around and swayed from side to side. She was like the Energizer Bunny on speed. And she was so cheerful it almost made him nauseous.

"Huh?" He felt his brow furrow as he tried to figure out what she was talking about.

"Rainbows. They come out after the rain..." She stuck out her wrist to show Marcus a garishly-colored rainbow tattoo. "I've always loved them."

Marcus surreptitiously looked her up and down again, hoping his expression wasn't betraying how harshly he was judging her. "Mmm, I can see that."

"And you're Marcus. Aries." Without warning, she grabbed his hand and started shaking it violently. Her bangles knocked about again, making a noise that he imagined must be reminiscent of some kind of tribal drumming circle. Perhaps that was the intention.

Marcus pulled his hand away as the overly-enthusiastic handshake threatened to turn into a full-blown fist-pumping session. "Not Aries. My surname is Lewis."

"No, no," she giggled, as though he was making a joke. "Your star sign is Aries. I did some research on you, just to check out our compatibility vibey-vibes."

Vibey-vibes? Saccharine, verbose, confused, over-energized and nonsensical. His mind boggled.

"And what did you discover?" he asked, playing along out of sheer morbid curiosity. Marcus gave astrology about as much credence as stories of Big Foot and the tooth fairy.

"Well, we're very, very sexually compatible," she reported seriously. She seemed to emphasize the word "very" rather a lot. He wasn't sure he liked it. "We're both fire signs – I'm a Sag. But we wouldn't be good in a relationship. Too fiery. Too stubborn, too many arguments and differences of opinion. But we can become friends," she concluded with yet another overly-eager smile.

Despite himself, Marcus had to admit that he agreed with some of what she said. He could never be in a relationship with her, that was for sure. He was also stubborn, he knew that. Argumentative – yes. Fiery – most definitely.