Eau de Pluie
Olette stole another glance at Charlie from across the table. He looked deeply concentrated in his work. Their exams were in only a week, and then they were out of high school, forever. And what did she have to show for it?
She had always been able to keep her marks high enough to please her parents, although she had begun to approach her studies with a steadily increasing disinterest throughout the years. She wondered how differently her career at Glenn Price High School would have been if only she had taken more concern when it came to her classes, been more curious about her subjects and books; it just seemed pointless to her to apply herself more when she accomplished enough to keep her family and professors happy without any real effort.
She was also taking some memories with her, but nothing extraordinary. She was a rather normal student. Not the star of a sports team, nor the president of any club. Conversely, she wasn't antisocial either; she had her clique of friends that she kept throughout her four long years within those thick, confining walls. She never really connected with any of them as much as she connected with Charlie, though.
Her best friend was sitting but a foot away from her. He was all she could ever ask for… well, almost, anyway.
She gazed around the empty library and peered out the window on the far end of the room. It had begun to drizzle. The glass was starting to fog up and small raindrops were gathering on the windowpane, appearing only as large as pinpoints from across the room. Olette had expected it to rain; she silently thanked her mother for having pressured her into taking an umbrella before she left.
Reaching into her sapphire-colored bag, she pulled out a small mirror. "Shouldn't you be studying?" pressed Charlie. He knew of her disinterest in her schoolwork and had made her promise she would really give history a try this time as they walked to the library together earlier that afternoon. They both lived across the street, making the library a convenient place for them to get work done. She momentarily brought to mind those first few months in her new home where the kind boy next door showed her around the neighborhood, showing her the best place to buy ice cream and taking her to the annual town festival.
She gave a small, exasperated sigh and waved his comment and her thoughts away, flipping her pocket mirror open. She pushed a golden strand of hair away from her face and stared into her own pale, blue eyes. She suddenly felt rather vain for making sure her hair was perfect and tossed her mirror back into her bag with a hint of remorse, knowing Charlie was half watching her. After all, her hair was always perfect and she was, in whole, eternally faultless: she was blessed with flawless fair skin and striking rosy cheeks.
She briefly considered the handful of shallow, one-dimensional high school boys that had tried to throw themselves at her over the years. Olette never truly understood what any of them could see in her: she paid what she constantly considered to be an unnatural attention to her appearance to make up for what she believed to be a rather lacking personality.
Always bland, never a trendsetter. She never really stood out to anyone except the occasional petty, hormone-driven boy.
Her mother had moved the two of them to England during the summer before her commencement of high school, swayed that it would prove for a smooth transition. Of course, it was easy for her to assume this; her mother already had a fair understanding of the English language and had visited London before. It was Olette that had known no other home than the one they had made for themselves in France, after her father had disappeared out of their lives.
All in all, Olette was sure that her four years of high school seemed much longer than that of her peers' because of her language barrier, although it turned out that learning English was not as big an obstacle as she had imagined it would be; she became relatively fluent after her first eight months in London. But even so, compared to her years living in France, it seemed as though four years had passed in a flash.
Many girls had judged her without knowing her, thinking that she was easy with boys because they naturally flocked to her. If only they knew how wrong they were. Eighteen years old and she hadn't been able to properly hold down a boyfriend for longer than a few days. Not that there had been any worth keeping.
She caught herself stealing another glance at Charlie. You should be studying, there are far too many dates you need to memorize, she thought, scorning herself for letting her mind wander. But for the past four years she had tried to teach herself that their friendship was far too valuable to lose over a fling; she knew it wouldn't last, just as every relationship in her past had already had failed to last. She was convinced that men did not belong in her life.
Moreover, she had only given a few boys a chance. They were, of course, all hopelessly shallow interests. Charlie was different: his need to protect others, his sense of humor, his ability to carry on a conversation and his warm demeanor called for her attention. She could go on and on reviewing the list of all reasons why she was drawn to him which she had thought of those nights when she couldn't sleep. Furthermore, she could list but one flaw, perhaps two.
Olette was snapped out of her daze as Charlie slammed the cover of his Precalculus textbook closed. "Are you heading out?" she asked lazily, stretching into a yawn.
"Yeah, I'm beat. First exam tomorrow morning," he said with a chuckle. Gazing out the window as she had done earlier, an odd expression had come over his face. If she didn't know any better, she would have mistaken it for weakness, or worse, sorrow. "I'm gonna miss high school, Olette," he sighed, distractedly running a hand through his untidy brown hair.
She sighed. "I know, me too," she replied, as all sorts of comforting things to say flew across her mind. All of which would lead to his revelation that perhaps she had been unsuccessful in stopping herself from falling in love with him. But convinced herself that she knew her boundaries.
After a moment of comfortable silence, Charlie cleared his throat. "Well," he responded warmly, smiling. "Another day, another adventure. It'll just be the next chapter in life, I suppose."
"Right," she murmured quietly. He always had an aptitude for saying what she was feeling but incapable of explaining herself.
Charlie gathered all of his books and held them under his arm. Rising to his feet and pushing his chair in, he knocked on the table with his knuckles as he passed her. "Good luck studying, then," he said optimistically before making his way towards the front door.
Acting on impulse, she stood abruptly as soon as he had made his way through the door. She ran after him, leaving all her things behind, and found herself calling after him, telling him to wait. Surprised at herself, she quickly raised a delicate hand to cover her mouth as realization washed over her at the top of the steps to the library entrance.
He stopped in his tracks and turned around when he heard her. He looked surprised, standing in the rain and simply staring at her, earnestly. "What is it?" he asked when she didn't explain herself. The rain had started to fall a bit harder now.
It's now or never, Olette thought, determinedly skipping down the stairs and marching up to Charlie, stopping only when she was about three inches away from him. He was a bit taller than she was, but they were close enough that it was not uncomfortable for them to fix their eyes on each other.
Charlie's expression had changed from one of sheer astonishment and curiosity to one of security and serenity. "What are you doing?" he demanded quietly, starting to shudder from the rain.
Olette didn't provide a response, but, rather, focused on him. Four years of protecting their friendship are going to waste, a little voice inside her head told her. She ignored this voice and finally fully recognized the fact that she was in love with him.
Something in Olette seemed to have snapped. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, causing Charlie to drop the books he was holding by his left side. She reveled to be able to finally fully tie herself to him, although… something seemed terribly wrong. She had kissed other boys before, and Charlie was not reacting to her.
The better side of her sense got to her and she quickly pulled away from him. They stared at each other for a moment, as Charlie came back to his senses. He looked both horrified and heartbroken.
Olette opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Her mind was reeling. She found herself thinking of dozens of things to say, yet none seemed to justify what she had just done to him. Instead, she just stared helplessly back at him.
Charlie bent over, picking up his books, one by one, without breaking eye contact with her. He then turned around and made his way quietly across the library lawn, across the street and into his house, closing the door slowly behind him until he was out of sight.
"What have I done?" Olette asked herself, finally regaining her ability to form words. She stood in front of the library, trembling from the rain and suddenly felt very small, but more prominently, very alone.