Scribbled Scenes November #11: The Rain

It started off as a regular day, but I should know by now that no day is ever regular. However, this day was particularly not-regular. The last class of the day just ended and the students were laughing, talking about their weekends, while walking down the steps of Bells High. My dad, probably too drunk to remember a thing, was supposed to pick me up. But since he never actually did, I just started walking home. The autumn weather betrayed me once again, while it was clear and sunny a few minutes ago, it now started drizzling. In a few minutes it would be pouring down, and I wouldn’t be able to get home within that time span. Thinking about all the work I had to do when I got home, clean the house, cook and do my homework, I walked on firmly. A long hot shower wouldn’t fit in that schedule and I had no interest in having to finish my homework in the middle of the night, because I hadn’t had time earlier. A loud noise woke me from my train of thought, a car came driving up beside me.

“You want a drive home?” A voice called from the vehicle. I recognized it, it was Suzy, the popular girl. Was she joking? She never said a word to me before today, and now she wants to drive me home? People always keep their distance from me: the girl who walks around in old man clothes because she can’t afford to buy new ones. The car honks again, “come in! It’s going to pour down!”

I took a quick look at the sky and it looked like she was right. It would rain, and not just a little. I decided it was worth the risk and jumped in the car.

“Hey,” she said. I tried to give her a genuine smile, to which she returned a happy and at the same time sad smile. “You know…” she started, shifting her eyes between the road and me, before focusing on the road again. Suzy pushed in the gas and the motor started rumbling, we drove off. “You know… I always secretly admired you, you know. You don’t care what other people think of you. You seem so strong and independent.” And then the words started pouring out of her. “I am a fake, people don’t care about me and I try not to care about them, but I just can’t.” A tear formed in the corner of her eye, she wiped it away with the sleeve of her vest. “I just don’t know what to do about it anymore, I can’t keep going on like this. I just can’t.” The car kept halt at the porch of my house and we get out, the rain still pouring. Not knowing what else to do, I walk up to her and hug her.

“It might seem like I don’t care, but I do. I care too much” I whisper in her hair. “Do you want to get inside?” This was more important than anything I was supposed to do this afternoon. This was worth it.

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