The buses have long since stopped running. It’s nearly two in the morning on the outskirts of the city and I hold a half-empty bottle of beer in my hand as I shuffle my feet along the sidewalk. Water pours from the sky, drenching my black dress and my previously pretty makeup. My hair sticks to the sides of my face; it’s straight, heavy, long, and much darker thanks to the rain. A traffic light shines an angry red along the street and lights up one side of my face.
I lift my hand and take a swig of my drink. I grimace at the taste. It’s watered down—some rain must’ve fallen into the bottleneck. It’s not hard to believe considering how hard it’s coming down right now.
I hear the splashing of feet in the puddles along the street and hear the slosh of wet clothes as they sit on the other side of the bench. My head tilts and tips, almost dropping onto my shoulder and I look over at the one on the other end of the bench.
His hair is dark and stuck like mine is. He slouches against the back of the bench and I see his shoulders rise and fall as he sighs heavily.
I take another drink of the water-alcohol mixture and analyze what I can see of the new stranger. He wears glasses that reflect a bit of the red light. A drip of water falls off the tip of his sharp nose before he turns his head up to look at the night sky. He slips off his soaked jacket and tosses it between us on the bench. I stare at it for a second as it collects water in the empty space and wonder why he took it off. It’s not like it’s warm right now; it’s actually pretty chilly. It’s pouring rain in mid-September.
“You can put it on, if you want,” he mumbles, “since you’re so busy staring at it. It won’t help much, but it might block some of the rain.”
I stare at him again. He huffs loudly as he attempts to light a cigarette in the pouring rain. He curses every time the lighter is snuffed by the rain, and I scoff.
“Have you never lit a cigarette before?” I mock. I reach over for his lighter and the pack he holds. He finally looks at me. His eyes are dark and wide behind his round framed glasses. I’m distracted by the look in them. He looks confused, lost, a little bit shocked that I called out to him. His lips are parted in surprise and I look at them for only a second. They’re round, pretty, and a well-kept stubble frames his mouth. I blink a couple times before I wave at him to hand his stuff over. Finally, he does, though he’s slow and hesitant.
I sigh as I place one of the cigarettes between my lips. “You have to cover the flame from the rain. You can’t hold your hand too high, though, or else it’ll blow out.” I cup the palm of my hand over the lighter as I burn the tip of the butt. Once I’ve been able to get a successful draw of smoke into my lungs, I toss the lighter back to him. I haven’t felt that familiar burn in almost two years, ever since I met my boyfriend—I guess now my ex-boyfriend. It’s a comfort I need after a night like tonight. I huff the smoke out into the rain and watch as it quickly dissipates.
“Doesn’t that burn?” He asks. “To hold your hand so close to the flame?”
I shrug. “It depends on how badly you need to smoke. I got good at it in high school.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see him try to copy me, but he flinches away from the heat. I take another drag before I wave it over to him.
“Here. Just use this. You can practice another day.”
“Don’t you want it?” He asks, but he takes it still without hesitating.
“Nah, I quit a few years ago.” I look up at the rain as much as I can. The drops have gotten bigger over these few minutes. “My ex hated it.”
“Ex, huh?”
“Yeah. He dumped me tonight.”
“Rough,” he says simply.
“He said he’s been seeing someone else,” I continue though I’m not sure why. “He says he’s in love with her now.”
“So did he cheat on you?
I sigh. “I don’t even know if he was ever in love with me. How do you cheat on someone for almost your entire relationship and still have the nerve to say you love them?”
It’s quiet for a moment while I sit and pout to myself. I pour the remaining drops of alcohol out onto the concrete below my feet. It mixes instantly with the rain on the ground and flows down the street, as if the two were never separate.
“Are you asking me or…?” His voice breaks me out of the trance the puddles put me in.
“I’m not so sure,” I mumble. “He said he’s been seeing her for a year and a half. That’s the majority of our relationship. Did he ever love me or did he just feel too guilty to break up with me?” I drop the bottle next to me on the bench and reach out my hand in his direction.
He raises his eyebrow at me and also reaches out for a shake.
“No, no that!” I snort. “Gimme the cigarette. I need a smoke.”
“I thought you quit?” he grumbles. He hands me the butt.
“Yeah, that was before I got cheated on.” The smoke is so comforting, something about the familiarity of the burn. It’ll always be better than drinking. “So why are you sitting in the rain?”
He sighs and I hand the cigarette back to him so he can have a drag. “I don’t know. Couldn’t sleep, I guess?”
“Hm. How nice for you.”
“I got fired,” he confesses.
“How come?” I ask.
He shrugs. “That’s not really an ‘over a cigarette’ kind of conversation.” He snuffs out said cigarette in a puddle on the bench before he stands up with a sigh. The rain has started pouring heavier since we started smoking and it’s getting difficult to hear him. He picks up his jacket and wrings it out on the sidewalk, a waterfall splashing onto his feet. He takes a few steps towards me, closing the distance between us. He stops when he’s standing directly in front of me. The light illuminates his face and I can see him clearly now. His cheekbones are high and structured, casting a shadow on his already dark stubble. His eyes are soft as he looks down at me, but his pretty mouth is turned up in a cocky smirk. He looks me up and down before tossing the jacket onto my lap.
“What’s this for?” I ask over the sound of the rain. I hold up the jacket in front of me and take a look at it. It’s cotton and black and sopping wet even though he just wrung it out.
He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It’s pretty cold out. You shouldn’t be walking in a dress in the rain.”
His eyes sweep over my bare legs for just a second. My brow rises at that. He stares back at my face and I make sure to stare back. I can feel the corner of my own mouth turning up in a smile as well.
“I’ll see you around?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. His dark eyes do one final sweep over me.
“I guess so,” I reply.
He turns away from the bus bench and walks down the middle of the street. I watch him go until I can’t see him anymore through the thick curtain of rain.
I pull the jacket over my shoulders and stand from the bench. I turn the opposite way the stranger went and head off that way, in the direction of my apartment. I used to share it with my boyfriend, but that was before he told me he was moving in with that other girl this week. I stop, my feet soaking into a puddle on the curb. The sheets of our bed still smell like him. His coffee mug is still in the sink. His clothes are still hanging in our closet.
I turn away from my apartment and walk in the direction of the stranger from the bench instead.
Cayley DuBray is a senior English major at Lindenwood University. She has one publication on the Lindenwood University Digital Commons. She is a writer and reader of romance, fantasy and poetry. She enjoys coffee, the Sims4, cats, and traveling.
Arrow Rock Literary Journal 