Rainy Friday Afternoon

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 06, 2016

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Submitted: April 06, 2016

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The weather channel’s promise of rain was fulfilled towards four o’clock as me, the guy, and the girl walked to my house with great hopes of getting into a Jacuzzi and sitting in the hot water under the cold rain, which seemed like the dopiest thing ever. When we finally got there, frozen and frustrated, it took me a while to fully comprehend the sign that announced the reconstruction of the pool area. For a long moment, I stared at the yellow Do Not Enter ribbons that flapped in the wind, then turned to my two friends. They made themselves as small as possible to preserve the little heat they had; the girl in the guy’s jacket and the guy under his massive backpack. Raindrops clung to their eyelashes and their shirts stuck to their shuddering bodies. The girl sneezed.

“We’re going to my house.” I said, turned around, and started to walk as fast as I could without slipping.

“F**k yeah!” passionately agreed the girl and sneezed again.

“What about your parents?” the guy asked behind me.

“What about them?” I said without turning around. The only thought in my head right now was my warm room with dry clothes and a thick comforter.

“I’m a guy and all, wouldn’t they freak?”

“OMG, they totally would! If your dad saw him he would, like, totally flip out.” The girl laughed.

“My mom’s having an art lesson, she doesn’t give a flying f**k about me right now. It’s chill.”

With slippery hands, I opened the door to my house and we quietly walked in. I signaled them to take off their shoes and pointed down the hall to my room.

“Is that you, Nadya?” my mom shouted over the chatty kids.

“Yup. I brought some friends over, is that alright?”

“Now, quiet down! Did everyone take out their paint brushes?” was her answer. I took off the soaked converse and ran to my room.

Inside the guy and the girl stood awkwardly, dripping on the floor. I closed the door behind me and sighed as the warm air canoodled me. Is it possible for air to canoodle? In that marvelous moment, it certainly did. I dropped my bag and my binders on the floor and went to first my brother’s closet. Out of there I grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and threw them at the guy.

“Your brother won’t mind?” the guy asked catching the clothes.

“He hasn’t lived here for six years; the guy’s twenty-five. He won’t mind. It’s chill.”

“Her brother is so hot, it’s like holy f**k.” The girl giggled, then abruptly stopped and sneezed. The guy raised an eyebrow at me.

“Can’t argue.” I shrugged. “But I don’t wanna discuss how hot my brother is.”

Then I hurried to my closet and started picking out the biggest clothes I had for the girl even though she was two years younger than me. No; she wasn’t fat. She wasn’t anywhere close to chubby. I was just an incredibly skinny fifteen-year-old. Finally, I got something to change into myself. Going to the bathroom to change meant facing the risk of either bumping into my mom or one of her students, so we all decided to just do it in my room. It wasn’t awkward; the guy was a fuckboy who didn’t know what it meant to be shy, and neither did I. The girl felt that the atmosphere wasn’t strained at all so she just changed quickly with a slight smile on her face. Without hiding it I watched the guy change shirts.

“Amazing. My brother is ten years older than you and you guys are the same size.” I said.

“That’s cause I have muscles.” The guy grinned and flexed proudly.

“Ya. I know,” I rolled my eyes, “all your snapchats are shirtless.”

“Yours are sometimes too, hypocrite.” He winked, pulling down the shirt that tightened across his chest and laughed when I rolled my eyes again. The girl glanced up at us, shocked, then laughed, too. Maybe she thought we were joking around, I don’t know.

“Your legging’s are my little sister’s size.” She said and grunted.

“Oh shut up!” I said and we all laughed.

“Skinny.” Teased the guy poking my bare side. I tried to push him away with my hands but even when I put all my weight on his chest he didn’t budge.

“You know this is pointless.” He smiled down at me and I giggled.

When we were all dressed we sat down on the bed and the guy tried to play on my acoustic guitar, complaining how soft and thin the strings were compared to his two bass guitars at home, until I took it back and slowly strummed on it, pressing down random chords. The girl talked and talked about middle school; about her obnoxious friends, her a*****e- teachers, her annoying parents.  We listened. Most of our conversations, of course, were about sex and blow jobs and nudes. What else was there to talk about?

It was raining hard outside and the wind seemed to almost snap the thin palm trees. In my room, however, it was warm, dry, friendly with bursts of laughter bubbling out every minute or so. I lit my favorite candle and the lighter reminded me.

“Some weed would be nice right now.”

“True.” Nodded the guy. The girl looked at us for a moment with the same slightly shocked expression, then started talking about how many dopers there were at junior high. I listened to her and smiled at her constant excitement and giggling that didn’t let her finish full sentences. Whenever she laughed she rolled her eyes back till her rich with mascara eyelashes touched her perfect eyebrows and waved her hands, flashing the electric blue manicure. She was like this as long as I’ve known her, and even though I would get headaches after she left, one or two hours spent with her were always fun and guaranteed minimum awkward silences. My eyes traveled from her to the guy who was lying down with one hand behind the nape of his neck and the other resting on his broad chest, flexing his biceps to the beat of some sort of song stuck in his head, quietly nodding and biting his lower lip, unconsciously being seductive as hell. His eyes would sometimes slide down to look at the girl’s chest, then they would dart up, and he would look at me. I’d roll my eyes, failing to suppress a smile, and he would grin back.


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