Meet Me By The Dock

Chapter 11

"What do you mean you don't know what a kiss in the rain is?" I ask, incredulously.

"I mean- I don't know what a kiss in the rain is." He says again. It shocks me just as much the second time around.

"It's a kiss," I say, and pause to annoy him, "In the rain."

"Well I know that, it's just that I don't understand the concept," He shifts to face me, "You go out and kiss in the rain, aren't you cold-"

"Not with the fiery passion of love to keep you warm." I point out.

He chuckles, "But why?" he asks exasperated.

"Because it's romantic." I say obviously.

"How is hypothermia romantic?"

"Because every girl wants their kiss in the rain." I know I do. Ever since I watched The Notebook with my mom as a little girl I've dreamt of my big kiss in the rain.

He sighs and lays back, folding his arms under his head. It's the last days of June, it's been so hot and sticky since the heat rolled in. But every once and a while a breeze drifts past and it feels like a reward for toughing out the unbearable heat for so long. We're laying in the middle of our adjoining yards with the sun beating down on us.

I was tanning -or trying to- when Matthew came out and sat down next to me.

Which obviously led to us discussing the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Which led to the talking about the iconic rain scene, which led to this.

Our conversation about romantic, hypothermia inducing, kisses in the rain.

"I could see how in some twisted universe that could be romantic, but what about flooding?" He squints against the sun, "don't your shoes get wet?"

"I wouldn't know, I've never had a kiss in the rain," I say, "But if I had, I wouldn't care if my shoes got a little wet."

He's quiet for a second, "Well that's sad," He says like he didn't hear my shoe comment.

He pauses and then, "Me neither." He replies a little too cheerfully.

I laugh, "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" I blurt out suddenly. Where did that come from? What deep dark corner of my brain did it crawl out of?

My eyebrows shot up in mortification but Matthew didn't care and if he did he didn't show it, "No." He says with a smile.

That gave me an odd sense of satisfaction which set me on edge. I couldn't care less whether he had fifty girlfriends or not. Actually that's not true. I wouldn't care, but I'd be concerned.

"What about you?" He asked, staring at me from over on his towel.

"Me neither." I say with a shrug.

"We're pathetic." He points out.

"Totally pathetic." I reply.

—-------

I lay on my stomach atop of my white duvet, facing my window.

I'm reading another book from the bookshop trip. At least I'm trying to, the house still feels too humid to do much of anything. We have air conditioning but mom and I barely know how to work it. So thank god the sun went down and the night turned cooler. A breeze blows in off the lake.

So we keep the windows open, hoping the humidity will fly out with the breeze.

It may make no sense and you're probably thinking, 'well Lilah, won't the humid air from outside just come inside if you open the windows?'