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Summer Thunder

by Elijah's Quill

            I rode home feeling stupid and alone.  The kiss was still hot on my lips, and my hands were shaking so badly that I could barely grip the handlebars.  What the hell was that, anyway?  I shook my head again, felt the tears burning in my eyes and blinked them away.  God, that was just what I needed, to get all teary and crash into a telephone pole or something.  I sucked in a deep breath and pushed away the need to cry.  And, hey, all those years of emotional suppression turned out to be pretty useful.  I held it in until I'd skidded up the driveway, tugged open the garage door, shoved the ten-speed in the corner, and retreated back into the house.  And, then, like a floodgate slamming open, it all came pouring out.

            I sank to my knees on the living room carpet, just inside the door, and leaned my back against the wall and cried.  I felt weak and ashamed and embarrassed, and it was all I could do to keep the sobs quiet enough so Dad wouldn't come thudding down the stairs to see what was going on.  Knowing the way I cry--big, gaspy, high-pitched sobs--he'd probably think it was Kory or something, back from her date and full of usual adolescent heartache.  Wouldn't he be pleased, to come clomping down those stairs and find his teenage son curled up on the carpet sobbing into a party napkin?  Oh, yes.  He'd be just bursting with fatherly pride.

            I came under control with that thought, even though I was far from done.  But, again, emotional suppression is a talent not easily lost.  I breathed deeply, I wiped away the tears, and I thought about other things--to help myself out with that, I plopped down on the couch and switched on the TV.  Of course, it was pretty late--Conan was even over by now--so, there was probably nothing on but infomercials and whatever was on TV Land and Nick at Nite, but hey, it was something.  Distraction was good. 

            Kory came in when I was about twenty minutes into a Laverne and Shirley marathon, and from the way the mascara was dripping down to her chin, I gathered she'd had about as stellar an evening as I had.

            "Hey," I said as she flopped down beside me.

            She gave me a quick nod, then leaned back and pressed a hand over her eyes.  Of course, I'd already seen how puffy and bloodshot they were, and the trail of black sweeping down her cheeks didn't do much to thicken the mystery.  "Hey," she said softly.  "What're you doing back so early?  Thought you were at some late night picnic or something."
            I felt my cheeks coloring and was thankful that she couldn't see me.  "I didn't feel like staying," I lied.  "What happened on your date?"
            Kory gave a short, bitter laugh.  "Oh, not much.  Sean finally figured out that I wasn't going to sleep with him and decided to explore 'other options.'"

            I shook my head, but I could've told her three months ago that the guy was a jerk.  But, hey, what girl listens to her older brother's advice, anyway?  Well, mine used to...but, that's ancient history, now.

            "That's too bad," I said aloud.  "He at least have the decency to drive you home?"
            Kory shrugged.  By now, she'd taken the hand off of her eyes and was combing absently at her hair, brushing it out over her shoulders in silky waves of violet.  "I took a cab.  He offered, of course, but..."  She shrugged again.  "I didn't like the way he was looking at me.  I never should've worn this stupid skirt."
            I managed a little grin.  "I told you it was too short."
            Kory stood up, smoothing at the thigh-length fabric as she moved, and offered a wan smile.  "So, maybe next time I oughta listen to you.  Anyway, it looks like you had a bad enough night yourself.  I told you not to go to that picnic."
            "Touché," I murmured.  "All right, so maybe we both have some listening to do."
            "You wanna talk about it?"  She was fighting a yawn; I could see it twitching at her jaw muscles.  Of course, I was pretty tired myself--crying'll do that to you--but, I doubted I'd be able to sleep, anyway.  Kory, on the other hand...

            I shook my head, managed an encouraging smile.  "Don't worry about it."  And, because I knew she  would worry without some kind of closure:  "I just had a bad night.  Obnoxious drunk guys and stuff, you know."
            Well, that was part of the truth, anyway.

            Her eyes narrowed a little.  "You sure?"
            "Positive.  Really.  Don't worry about it." 

            "Okaaaay," she said slowly.  "Night, Ryan."

            "Night, Kory."

            She wasn't buying it, of course--we weren't all that close anymore, but she knew me well enough to know when I was upset, and now was most certainly one of those times.  But, she also knew that there were times when I just wanted to be left alone to wallow, and so she left me alone.   I heard those clompy sandals going up the stairs, and a few seconds later her door clicked shut.

            I stayed up watching Laverne and Shirley until the sky was just starting to get pink, and then I dragged myself upstairs and flopped onto my bed.  The room was dark and cool, only a hint of light creeping through the blinds, and I was asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow.  I didn't think about the fact that the ring was still on my finger until I woke up several hours later. 

*****

            The lawnmower woke me up.  I'd been having a nice, unrelated dream about finally going mountain climbing, but you know how sometimes things filter in?  Well, let's just say that the rest of my climbing team was as shocked as I was to find that swarm of killer bees chasing us up the side of Everest.  Anyway, I snapped out of it after a few frightening moments of being chased through rocky snow drifts, and sat up in my bed with a gasp.  I was soaked in sweat and shaking, but the sight of my new Lord of the Rings poster staring calmly at me from across the room was enough to ground me in reality, draw me out of the dream.  The fact that I could hear Ken swearing at the lawnmower through the closed window helped a lot, too.

            I sat there breathing hard for a few minutes, staring at Frodo's head like I was afraid he was going to transform into a giant honey bee, and then finally regained control and got out of bed.  The floor was cold--I'd been trying to get Dad to put carpeting in for years, but there was always some other project to hold his attention.  And, hey, I was gonna be out of here soon, anyway, so no point now. 

            I mulled on that for awhile, wondering how I'd ever come to this point in my life--I was a senior, now!  Good God!--and then, the sound of the screen door slamming downstairs jerked me out of it.  Ken's swearing echoed from below me, even as the lawnmower buzzed resolutely onwards.

            I changed quickly, throwing on a plain white tanktop, jean shorts, flip-flops, and sunglasses (perched on the top of my head for now), and spent a few seconds combing through my hair.  It was getting long, nearly to my shoulders--I made a mental note to get Kory to cut it for me, then tugged it back into a crude ponytail and dashed out the door.  By the time I managed to trip my way downstairs (flip-flops are hard to run in, you know), Ken was on his way out the door again, but he heard me and stopped.  The lawnmower was louder down here, buzzing in through the open windows and the screen door, so yelling was, unfortunately, necessary.

            "Ry!" he shouted when he saw me, turning and coming back into the kitchen.  "Finally @#*(&$ up, huh?  Sleeping @#($*& beauty!" 

            I winced as the profanities echoed through the house like a grand concert hall--but, I reminded myself, it was a Monday.  Dad was at work, and Kory was probably already at the mall with Karen, which meant that I was the only family member around to be offended by Ken's language.  And...well, I didn't offend easily.

            "You mowing the lawn?" I yelled.

            Ken nodded, dashing a quick hand through the fiery tufts of his hair.  "Yeah!  Usually do it on @(#*$&@ Saturday, but I couldn't make it, so I'm doin' it now!"
            "Oh!" I replied loudly.  "Shouldn't you get back to it, then?"
            "Right!  That's what I was doin'!  But, first, I wanted to ask you what the @#$(*& you were thinkin' last night, man!  You left way @$(*& early, didn't ya!?"

            I frowned.  Ken had been at the picnic??  God, what if he'd seen...  Suddenly remembering the ring that still bit into my finger, I shoved my hand into my pocket, tried to force the blush from my cheeks.  "Let's talk about it sometime when we don't have to yell!" I yelled. 

            Ken nodded.  "Okay!  Lemonade break in twenty minutes!  See ya then, Ry!"
            He turned, then, shoved open the door, and jogged out into the yard.  I crept to the screen to watch him, studying the strength and certainty to his steps, the confident tilt to his chin, the way a loose plaid flannel shirt, white tank top, and jean shorts somehow didn't make him look ragged or underdressed. 

            Ken was certainly a mystery. 

            I turned away just as the usual stream of lawnmower-inspired obscenities flooded out, strode over to the fridge and tugged it open.  The door was covered in magnets--Mom'd had a small collection going, and Kory'd been adding to it ever since she died--but, three spots had been cleared for our school pictures, mine, Kory's, and Rick's.  Of course, we hadn't seen Rick since he moved to West Virginia for college a few months ago, but I figured his picture would stay on the fridge until he came back or the refrigerator was demolished, whichever came first. 

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(More to come soon.  Until then, let me know what you think, ne?)