The rain kept pounding against the glass and Delilah couldn't stop staring at the empty seat beside her.
Ryland asked to leave almost twenty minutes ago. Perhaps—as Melon Head put it—he was taking a shit.
But Delilah doubted that. She put her hand up and told the teacher she was going to the bathroom. She left her chair after, leaving the class and went through the hall. Yellow and purple walls covered in banners, the hallways were empty and silent except for the rain hitting harder now.
She pulled her sleeves down, and walked through, glancing out the window to see the skies drowning in the grey and gloom of Mother Nature. That bitch was always sad around this time of year.
She kept walking until she saw another figure staring out the window. She stepped closer to the glass, seeing the other side of the school where windows filled one part of the wall as well. She pulled away and headed towards that direction, her boots clicking away.
Finally reaching the end of the hall, she found the door wide open. She glanced down and saw Ryland sitting against the door frame, staring out in the rain.
She tried her best to reduce the sound of her boots and crept towards him. She opened her mouth, but he put a finger to his lips, dissolving the words in her throat.
She naturally held her bracelets to keep them from jingling and sat across from him. Her legs were parallel to his as she leaned on the other side of the door frame.
A little tape recorder sat by his thigh, the light flashing green. His head leaned back on the door and she did the same, the cool sensation of the metal hitting her neck.
She stared out into the rain too and absorbed the sounds of raindrops as they dissolved into the puddles, becoming one with the rest of the little lake of the school courtyard.
This peaceful part of Delilah unlocked and she let it roam over her body, putting her senses and heart at ease. They didn't say anything the whole time, both not even staring at each other—but out into the empty yard and rain.
"Why do you like doing these kind of things?" she asked.
He didn't look at her as he spoke. "Whenever I find that one sound—the one that makes me appreciate the world and speaks and tells a story—that's when I know I'm home. It reminds me everything is real."
Suddenly the bell rang, nearly sending Delilah in a jump. Ryland snatched the tape recorded off the ground and shoved it in his pocket. She quickly got up too, dusting her pants off. He raked his hand through his air, and was going to move past her until she grabbed his hand.
He stared down at it.
Kids began filing out of their class, filling the halls with laughter and bulky cliques. It drowned out the sound of pouring rain, reality sinking in. "It'll take too long if you go through the halls," Delilah said. They still had to go back to class to get there stuff.
"And you suggest...we fly back to class?" Ryland asked.
A wicked grin spread across her lips and she motioned outside. His eyes roamed past the open doors. "Oh no. You can't be serious." She tugged on his sleeve and he shook his head. "We're gonna get wet!"
Her eyes sparkled. "That's the point."
He tried to dig his feet into the tiles, but she yanked him into the rain, laughing as it was pouring like crazy. She screamed and laughed even more, pulling him with her.
At first, he put his arm over his head yet once realizing that didn't do justice, he put his arm down and let the rain drown out his hair.
Delilah guided him through the rain, it soaking their clothes and hair. Her boots squished in the slushy grass, splashing against her thighs. She glanced over her shoulder and caught Ryland laughing as well, the dimples in his cheeks showing off.
She grinned and took his other hand, spinning him around. He let her as they kept spinning, probably looking like idiots from the dry students inside but they didn't care.
It was just them, the rain and their laughter. It was real. They could feel it.
She gripped onto his hand, knowing if one of them let go, at least one would go flying into the mud. He let his hand slip off of one of hers and e tightly gripped onto her other hand, tugging her past the tree and to the other doors on the other end of the court.
She screamed again, nearly slipping and laughed with Ryland who saw it. He grabbed the door handle, swinging it open. They both ran in, accidentally bumping into a couple of students who were on their way.
"Sorry!" Ryland shouted.
"Whoops!" Delilah said with a giggle. They exchanged big smiles and kept running, their shoes squeaking against the floors.
Just as people were getting out of their class, they snuck in and grabbed their things as fast as they could. Stuffing whatever binders, papers and pens that they left into their bags and quickly darted out of the class before the teacher could question their absence.
It wasn't until they finally stopped at the staircase where they leaned on the wall to catch their breath. Delilah's silver hair stuck to her cheeks and she peeled one off. "How's that for a 'real' experience?" she asked.
Ryland laughed. "Pretty real." He grabbed the ends of his shirt and squeezed the water out, creating a puddle by the stairs. Delilah squealed, it pooling all over her feet and he laughed.
"There's no way we can go into class like this," she said, staring down at her dripping sweater. She could already feel the uncomfortable sensation of the jeans clinging to her skin.
Ryland hiked his bag higher on his shoulder. "C'mon. I have an idea."
She dragged her hair back, getting the water out of her face with a smile. "Lead the way." She followed after him, running past students who probably got a little wet as they zipped by.
"Hey! Watch it!" one of them shouted.
Ryland dashed down a staircase and rounded a corner, heading for a door. He kicked it open, Delilah following behind. They walked past rows of lockers, benches between each set. "Isn't this the locker room?"
He stopped in front of a cabinet, pulling out two towels. "Yeah. No one has gym this period so we're safe in here." He tossed the towel over his head and scrubbed really hard.
She put her head down and did the same, scrubbing the crap out of her hair with the towel. She flicked her hair back up, caught up to Ryland who was already walking somewhere else.
He stopped in front of the laundry room of the lockers and explained, "Sometimes our jerseys smell like shit so coach makes us toss them in the washer." He opened the door to the drawer. "Luckily, we also have a dryer. So I was thinking, the girls probably don't have a class either and I know their locker room is an exact replica of this one. You could just—"
She bundled the ends of her sweater and rolled it off her body, feeling relieved once the weight was off. She opened the dryer door and tossed hers in.
"What do you think you're doing? Stop!" He grabbed her wrists but she yanked them away, already unbuttoning her jeans.
"Can you stop freaking out? What—haven't seen a half-naked girl before?" She rolled her eyes and unzipped the rest of her pants. Shimming out of them, she peeled it off her legs and even tossed her socks in.
She let out a relieved sigh and dusted her hands off. "Now that's over." She looked up to find him still fully clothed. "What are you waiting for? The next load?"
He glared and mumbled something, grabbing the end of his shirt. But then he stopped midway, feeling her eyes on him. "Can you, like, turn around?" She arched a brow. "Please?"
"Riiiiiight." She began turning. "So you get to watch me take my clothes off but I can't watch you?"
"I wasn't watching," he snapped.
"Whatever, you liar," she sneered, arms crossed.
"I'm not lying!"
"Mhm hm."
He groaned and she heard the sound of his belt unbuckle. He cleared his throat and she sighed, leaving the laundry room. She walked off back to her bag, grabbing the towel she left on the bench. She dried herself off more, hair still dripping down her back. In her panties and bra, it was still surprisingly warm in the locker room.
She heard his footsteps and saw the other towel disappear on the bench. "So how long do we have to wait?" she asked, her back still to him.
"You've never done the laundry before?"
"No."
She could hear him smiling in his voice. "Really?"
"Don't make fun of me," she shot.
"I'm not."
"You're still smiling!"
"How would you know? You're not even facing me!"
"That's because I'm not sure if you're 'comfortable' with me looking."
"At this point, I don't really care."
She turned anyway and suddenly a wave of memories hit her, nostalgic feelings trying to sneak through the cracks she tried her best to plug. She quickly looked away before more came flooding and turned towards the sinks.
She sat down, sitting on the cold tiles and set her head against the wall. The sound of the dryer going rumbled in the back.
A minute later, Ryland scooted beside her, his legs up to his chest.
The silence between them was comforting and no one dared to ruin its simple beauty.
"What's with the tape recorder?" she finally said after a while.
The silence began tipping the scale and she wondered if she took it too far.
He untucked his legs, letting them extend out like hers. "I'll show you tomorrow. Come with me after school and perhaps then you'll understand."
She frowned and she looked over, ready to ask him what he meant but the beep of the dryer went off, telling them their clothes were ready.
He got up, leaving Delilah as he went to fetch the dry clothes. She sighed, tucking a strand behind her ear.
What was to become of her? How long could she go on without telling him who he really was?
She drew her knees to her chest, hugging her legs against her torso.
"Here." He tossed her the jeans and sweater. He already had his clothes on.
She quickly tugged it over her head, getting up and wiggled her legs through the jeans. Warmth attached to her skin, the pleasing sensation putting her at ease.
He checked his phone from his pocket and then turned towards the benches. "You have a way home?"
She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. He put his on and then headed towards the door, opening it for her. "I don't know."
He nodded, as the bell rang, people getting out of their classes. She walked beside him, this silence between them on the verge of awkward or nice. She felt weird and she supposed he felt weird so they decided silence would settle for now.
"Well." They reached the parking lot and he stopped by the front doors. "If you need a ride, just let me know."
She nodded. "Yeah. Glad I won't have to sit on your car in order to get a ride," she joked.
He laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Isn't that nice to know?" He waved bye and she watched him go.
"Wait!"
He stopped and she followed after him. "Actually I could use a drive. Paris finally showed me the backup key spot so I won't be locked out anymore."
"Sweet." He shoved one hand in his pocket as they walked towards his car. She got in the front as he got in the driver's seat. She started to play with the radio, and he raised a brow. "Wow. As soon as I give you the license to be in my car, you automatically control the radio?"
She grinned and turned up one station, cranking the knob. People turned, Ryland's car vibrating as the bass rocked the engine. Metal shook at the vibrations of the song and she laid back, this bringing back good memories of Hell when her and Melon Head used to rock out the underworld.
"Well it's a good jam," she said, nodding her head to the song.
He arched a brow and clicked a different station. A much softer, mellow tune played in the background. "How about to classics? John Lennon? The Beatles?" he offered.
"Who?" she asked.
"You don't know the Beatles?!" He slapped one hand on the steering wheel and declared, "I am about to change your life." He grinned and put a hand to the sky, the other moving the wheel as they took off. "The legends, my friend. You must hear them sing." He clicked a few minutes and a strange song flooded through the roof.
Delilah wrinkled her nose and took three good seconds before changing the station. She moved to the beat, swaying in her seat. But he switched it again, and she switched it back.
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
"Okay!" He stabbed the radio button and the music stopped. "How 'bout we do something else?"
"Like what? Sing?" A grin stretched across his lips and Delilah's eyes widened. "You can't be serious."
"C'mon. Let's play something we both know," Ryland said.
She snorted. "And what song would we both know? We clearly have two different tastes." He started playing with the switches again, tongue sticking out in concentration until he landed on something they both knew. He gave her a knowing grin, and she shook her head.
"No. We're not singing this," she said.
He leaned into her. "I know you know the words!"
"Not this. Change it!"
The song started to build to the chorus and he tapped his fingers against the wheel as they cruised down the street. He started to sing a little louder, getting right in her ear.
She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Then she threw her arms up.
"Don'tttttttttt stop! Believinnnn!" she screamed.
"Hold onto that feeeeeeeeelin," he followed after her.
"Streeeeetlight."
"Peeeeeeeeople."
"Ooohhhhhhhhhhhh," they both sang.
By the time they were home both their throats burned, coughing and laughing by the time they got to Paris's apartment.
Finally, he stopped by the curb and the engine killed. The song finished in time and the silence cut through again.
"This is my stop," she said.
"It is," he confirmed.
He gave her a short nod goodbye, and unlocked the door. Getting out, she closed the car door behind her, disappearing through the spinney doors. She touched her lips, and felt a smile under her fingers. But when she turned around to say something, Ryland was already gone.
+++
A/N:
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xx twister