Free September Rain Bk 2, Savor The Days Series by A.R. Rivera

behind me the whole
way.
    When I was nearly home, the boy
suddenly sped up beside me. That was when I got my first real look
at him. He was about my age—seventeen or sixteen—with extremely
thin lips, straggly blond hair, and acne scars. He also had a long
scar across the bridge of his nose that curved down to his lip and
over part of one cheek. It wasn’t an ugly scar, but was thin and
long, as if someone had slashed him with a pink marker.
    When he spoke, he started
with an apology for scaring me. I told him he didn’t, but it was a
lie. The boy asked if I lived close by, because he had just passed
his own house and wanted to make sure that I’d get home safe before
he went on his way. It was the first time in my life that anyone
had ever worried about me . I was blown away—a kindness
being offered without expectation? Did people actually do that—give
without taking?
    Troy certainly didn’t.
    I had never seen the boy
before and decided to test the waters. I told him that I was
walking home from my boyfriends’ house. He said my boyfriend was an asshole to make me
walk in the first place, and a total dick for making me go alone,
in the middle of the night. He recommended that I dump his sorry
ass.
    That made me smile. I told him not to
worry, that I was almost home, anyways. Then I pointed to my
house.
    He nodded. “I’ll watch from here,
until you get inside.” On any other night, it might have freaked me
out, but that night I felt safe.
    That nice boys’ face came back to me
just then, as I sat in the middle of chemistry, right beside the
person that a complete stranger had so aptly labeled.
    “You are an asshole.”
    Troy’s gaping mouth, along with
surrounding murmurs told me I spoke the realization a little too
loud. I looked up at the white board to find Ms. Shine staring at
me. And she wasn’t alone. As I searched the room, everyone else
seemed to have their eyes locked on me, too. Ms. Shine walked down
the aisle, dropping a pink slip onto my open textbook.
    “I know the drill.” I said, gathering
my things.
    Troy’s face took on that dead look,
the one he used when other people were around. It only came to life
when we were alone, which only happened in his bedroom.
    “Never again,” I
whisper-yelled, rising from the chair and trying to hide the utter
shock of my eyes blurring. He was a horrible person; so not worth crying over.
But that didn’t matter. The melancholy fit came on against my will,
emptying me completely.
     
    + + +

10
    — Angel
    The morning finds me wide awake. I
don’t know when I fell asleep, I usually have a tough time of it,
but I can tell, when I stretch out, that I feel okay. My brain is
foggy, but in a good way.
    The clock radio on my small shelf
plays an AM station. The Bach piece sends my thoughts immediately
to Jake.
    If the music of Analog Controller was
the soundtrack of my youth, then Jake was the vinyl it was pressed
in. Yeah, I had other shit going on; bully’s at school, damn
appointments to keep and no viable transportation besides my legs,
keeping my grades up, and trying to work out how I was gonna pay
for college—but none of it was as important to me as my
relationship with Jake.
    Jake was my heart and soul.
    Avery was the friend that always had
my back, my voice of reason. We were synchronized, like one
organism. Symbiotic. Full of heart and hope. We had potential. We
had promise.
    Or so I thought.
    +++
    Inside the interview room once more, I
look across the table and sigh.
    I still don’t know their names: the
lady with the gray overcoat and tight hair bun; her name badge is
still flipped over. So, I don’t know who she is or what she does.
It’s almost like she doesn’t want me to see it, she doesn’t want me
to know. And the quiet man, I can’t read his badge, either. The
letters look smeared. I wonder if that means I need
glasses.
    The committee of two stares quietly
back at me while my lawyer and his awful jacket—that is also gray
today