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𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒌
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MY CAR IS parked on the curb of Jenna's house. I watch Maya walk up the steps to the door and knock. A few minutes later, a lady opens the door and gives Maya a look. They interact for a bit before the lady calls out Jenna's name.
She appears a second later, her expression souring as soon as she lays eyes on Maya. Within a few minutes of her apology, Maya extends the gift we got together this morning. Jenna grabs it, flicks it onto the lawn, and yells at Maya before shutting the door.
Maya's shoulders drop as she trudges down the steps. Suddenly, the door opens, and Jenna calls out to Maya, who looks back, waiting as the girl rushes toward her. She slaps her hard, and my instincts kick in as I get out of the car. Jenna dashes back in as Maya rubs her cheek. "You okay?"
She stares up at me, her eyes welling up with tears. I study her for several seconds before picking up the gift bag and guiding her back to the car."At least you tried," I tell her.
"I wish I could take it all back," she cries, tears streaming down her face.
"You've apologized,"
"It doesn't feel enough,"
"Hey, look at me," I tilt her chin so that she's facing me. " I know things may not be the best with Jenna and that you blame yourself for what happened to her, but it's not your fault. You saw that she was in trouble and helped her. You had no idea that Mr Allen was holding something against her. Things perhaps did not end the way you expected them to, but that's life,"
"You've got the sweetest soul I have ever seen. You always think about others, and you feel too much. You've done what you can, and now it's time to let go and hope for the best, okay?"
She swipes at her eyes and nods.
"Let's go get you a strawberry cake to cheer you up. How about that?"
"I think that baking chocolate chip cookies might do the trick,"
"Alright, cookies it is then,"
She puts on a flimsy smile as I get the car going. When we arrive at her house, I'm sort of relieved Abigail isn't home. It smells like strawberries and sugar when I walk through the front door. Maya opens the windows to let in fresh air and light while I take off my sneakers. I wiggle my toes as they settle onto the wooden floorboards, pulling up my sleeves.
"Are you always this tidy?" I ask, joining her by the island as she takes out the ingredients.
"What do you mean?" she says, sidestepping me to reach for the drawer. The kitchen is a contrast to mine. While mine is spacious there is barely much space to move in this one. But damn, is it spotless. You wouldn't think a teenager lives here.
"What I mean is, you're not messy?"
"I like to keep things clean. Plus, it also means less work for Aunt Abby since she's taking care of me,"
We start with the cookies, her mixing together the wet ingredients in the bowl while I throw in the dry ones in the KitchenAid. She's humming, and it makes me glad to see her not thinking about Jenna anymore. "Play something good," she says. "Something you like,"
"Uh, I don't think classics is something you'll like,"
"Seriously? Is that the only thing you listen to? Nothing that makes you wanna dance?"
"I don't dance,"
"Not with classics, you won't. I'll play us something good." She saunters to the living room to get her phone and starts playing a song.
"Who's this, I ask?" The music blasts through the whole house. It's loud but not loud enough that it'll get the neighbors knocking.
"Billy Joel," she's smiling and twirls her body toward the bowl of wet ingredients. She's so into it it's like she can see the notes floating up to the ceiling. It's cute. "What?" She notices my staring. "You don't like it?"
Do I not like it? If I'm being honest, the beat is not bad, and I'm tapping my foot, but she can't see it. I shake my head, "It's good." She smiles as soon as the words slip and bobs her head to the beat.
After mixing the wet ingredients, she cleans up, and I'm almost done with the KitchenAid. Her favorite part comes on, and she starts outright dancing. She shimmies to me and takes my hands into hers as she tries to make me move along with her. "I'm not dancing, Maya,"
"It's just us, you and me,"
She's directing me, and hesitantly, I'm moving with her, slow at first, then a little faster. I'm not outright jumping and shaking my hair like she's doing, but at least it's something. I'm fighting through this out-of-normal behavior and the shame despite the heat on my cheeks.
"That's the first I've ever seen you act...shy," she says when we're putting the cookies in the oven. "It was cute,"
I bite my lip just as the blush in my cheeks comes back, and I saunter away from her.
"You're doing it again," she says.
We settle on the sofa, waiting for the cookies to finish while we chat. We chat until she hears the rain outside and squeals. I don't understand what she is so excited about until she spills it all out. "I've wanted to dance in the rain with my boyfriend since forever! Come on!" She pulls at my arm, but I'm not budging. She lets go, "I don't want to force you to do this,"
"I never said no,"
Then we're outside. I've left my Jean jacket back inside, and we're barefoot on the wet tarmac as Maya starts jumping in puddles. Not too far from us are kids in colourful rain boots and raincoats jumping in puddles and screaming in joy.
This makes my mind jump back several years when Dad would hear the rain and say, "It's puddle times, boys! Quick before your mom scolds us!" We'd throw on our raincoats and boots and jump in the puddles as Dad chased us around. I swallow hard and finally notice that Maya has gone still, drops of rain sliding down all of her.
She asks me with her eyes, "I just remembered how my dad would take Noah and me outside when it rained to jump in puddles. It was one of our favorite things." I smile, but I know my eyes don't show it.
She takes my hands in her warm ones, giving me that happy-go-lucky smile, "My dad used to do the same. There's so much that reminds me of him,"
"Why don't we make a new memory?"
"A new memory?"
"Yeah, so that the rain reminds you of me and me of you,"
She wraps her hands around my neck and mine around her waist. We sway to the beat of the falling rain. I spin her around and turn her and all the other things that make her feel like she's some princess at a ball with her prince. We sometimes slip, and I know we look silly, but I don't care.
She's laughing, and she's smiling, and so am I. Like, I'm actually freaking and genuinely happy after what feels like eons. This is all that should matter: her smile and my smile melding together into whatever concoction happiness is supposed to be.
She presses her warm lips onto mine, and my grip on her tightens. We catch our breath as I lean back her body toward the ground.
"Rick, I might fall," she murmurs against my mouth.
"Don't worry, I won't let you even if it means I have to fall first," and I take her breath away with a kiss.
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𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒂
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We're soaking wet when we get back inside. I run upstairs to grab us some towels while Rick takes the cookies out of the oven.
Once I've changed into something comfortable, I go back downstairs to find a shirtless Rick. He's using his T-shirt to dry his hair. The view startles me. It's nothing I haven't seen before, but it doesn't stop a blush from creeping onto my cheeks. "Use this," I throw him the towel as he smirks at me.
Before my face gets tomato-red, I rush to Aunt Abby's room to grab her small heater. I settle it down by the sofa before getting Rick one of my oversized graphic tees of strawberry shortcake and a pair of oversized soccer shorts.
"There's no way I'm wearing that," he's eyeing the graphic tee.
"Come on, it'll look cute on you,"
"Maya, there's no way,"
"It's just me and you, no one else,"
He hesitates, but I don't let it marinate as I direct him to the bathroom so he can change. Meanwhile, I plug in the heater and warm up leftovers so we can eat something. When he's finished, he comes downstairs with the tips of his ears pink and a blush on his cheeks. He gains a kiss from me on the cheek before I snag the clothes and throw them in the dry cleaner along with mine.
Then we get seated on the island with bowls of Mac n cheese and roasted veggies. When Rick's doing the dishes, I grab my phone and sneak in a quick picture, but being the goof that I am, I forget to turn the sound off. The clicking sound of the camera alerts him, and he turns rapidly. "Maya!"
A giggle floats up from my chest as I back away from him before he's chasing me around the kitchen and living room. He's calling out my name as I work hard to distance myself from him until he pulls me by my t-shirt, and we both fall onto the sofa. I'm laughing out loud as he grabs my phone, and he's probably deleting it, but I'm not focusing. "You goof! There was no way I couldn't take a picture,"
Then he's laughing too.
"I've never seen you like this, so..."
"So?"
"So happy, so free,"
"It's because I'm with you,"
"So basically, you're past the shy stage,"
"I'm not shy,"
"I know you're not shy, silly. You're conservative and sensitive. You're careful about who you share your personal self with,"
Rick pecks me on the cheek. A couple of minutes later, I have my legs in his lap as were eating cookies and milk and watching the office. I'm giggling at something Michael said when Rick rests his hand on my knee. "I want to see your room,"
"My room?"
We're climbing the stairs, and while we're doing so, I can't help but feel nervous. Honestly, he's going to be seeing my room for the first time. There's nothing serious about that; I know it's clean because I'm not messy. Pushing open the door, we're met with a light breeze coming from the window. It brings with it the scent of wet sand and salt. "Welcome to my humble abode. It's nothing special,"
He sits on my bed, scanning the white walls filled with posters about strawberries and strawberry shortcake. He grabs my stuffed strawberry shortcake doll and snorts, "I didn't think the obsession ran this far,"
"Hey," I grab the doll from him, pouting my lips. "Some people just like certain things more than others,"
He inhales deeply and smiles, "Your room smells like you,"
"I swear when you smile, I..." I swallow the rest of my words as he opens his eyes.
"You?"
"It's nothing," I evade his gaze as I settle the doll onto my desk. When I turn, he's slowly walking toward me. The whole thing would make me lose my breath if it weren't for those soccer shorts and the strawberry shortcake t-shirt. I snort, looking at anything but him.
"It's definitely something." My heart gallops like a horse in a race when his hands touch my arm. Then, he pulls me toward my wardrobe and pushes me inside. "What are you doing?"
"Shh, someone might hear us. Get in quickly," he says after I get in and closes the wardrobe slightlyso that some light can peek through. He comes closer to me, and I want to back away, but my back hits the wall of the wardrobe. He settles one hand on the wall right next to my ear, leans in on my other ear, and whispers, "How did we get to this point? Where I forget how to breathe when you smile?"
His hot breath sends shivers down my skin, and heat rushes to my face. I lean my head on his shoulder to hide my blush. "That's what you were going to say, isn't it?" I nod with my face still snuggled on his shoulder.
"But I don't get it. If that's what you were going to say, then why were you laughing?"
"Because you look absolutely bonkers in this get-up,"
"Is that so?" He starts tickling my belly before placing light kisses on my neck until we finally kiss. When we're alone, it feels like it's just us in the whole wide world, and time floats away when we stare at each other.
A voice interrupts our little makeout session. More specifically, Aunt Abby's voice is calling out to me. Breathless, I get out of the wardrobe and hiss at Rick to stay inside while I deal with her. "I'm here, Aunt Abby," I call back, racing down the stairs.
"Did you have someone over?" she inquires, untying her hair and taking her heels off by the island.
"Uh, no," I chuckle.
"Then why are there two glasses of half-drunk milk on the coffee table? Also, what happened to your lips? Why are they swollen?"
I immediately smack my hand against my lips, "It's nothing,"
Aunt Abbey narrows her eyes at me as she comes closer until she hears a noise from the roof. "What was that?"
"Oh no," I mutter to myself, following her outside to the front yard.
"What in the heavens are you doing up there?!"
It's Rick, and he's halfway down the drainpipe. He gives Aunt Abby a sheepish smile as she glares at me for a minute before yelling, "Get down from there before you hurt yourself!"
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
I close the door behind me and hand Rick his jean jacket. "I hope she's not too mad," he says, putting it on.
"Don't worry, she's pissed but also amused. You're okay, though, right?"
"You've asked me that like a million times already. Yes,"
"Rick, I...I had the best time today," I take his hand and weave our fingers together as they fit perfectly. "You're the best thing that's happened to me this year,"
His smile falls a little, and his eyes fall to the ground as his Adam's apple bobs up and down. "Nah, surely I can't be,"
"Seriously, you are," I wrap my arms around him and tighten the hug, breathing his scent of the sand and ocean. For some reason, it takes him a minute before he hugs me back, and I take this as a sign that he's letting all of this sink in.
I watch him drive away before walking back into the house. "Like seriously," Aunt Abbey chuckles to herself. "You thought you could lie to me about this. The messed up hair, swollen lips and flushed cheeks were a dead giveaway,"
I shuffle my feet, "I'm sorry,"
"You don't have to be hun. You're forgetting that I was once your age and probably did worse,"
"Probably did worse? Like?"
"Like sneaking out through my bedroom window to go to a party with the biker boy my parents strictly forbade me from dating," she bites into her apple as her expression turns serious. "Although you're forbidden from ever sneaking out, you hear me,"
I snicker, "You don't have to worry about me being that rebellious,"
"Maybe I shouldn't tell you these stories altogether,"
"No, Aunt Abby, you have to tell me,"
I spent the rest of my evening listening to Aunt Abby narrate stories about her rebellious teenage years.