Forgetting Why: Part 2

It was late and dark by the time they made their way back into town from the beach, and the rumbling in the sky hinted at the upcoming storm. Rhyla rang up her parents and informed them that she was going to be staying at Ayden's house overnight, conveniently skipping their newfound revelations and relationship. Ayden's parents were long dead from the war because they had unfortunately decided to make a trip to the US capital the week the war began, and he lived with his older brother, Airek, in the same house.

"Airek's out for the evening. Another one of those goddamned end-of-the-world parties." Rhyla snickered at Ayden's resentful description.

"Don't worry. We'd probably have more fun here anyway." Ayden rolled his eyes, knowing that they were both far too exhausted to try anything.

After a light dinner of sandwiches and Pinot Noir, Rhyla followed Ayden to his room, and there they fell asleep on his large bed without further incident.

The next morning, they woke later than they had expected. After a quick brunch, Ayden offered to walk Rhyla back home. She consented, and they applied some sunscreen to shield from the sun and set off. It was a bright Saturday, and the children in every neighborhood that they passed were playing either hopscotch or double dutch in the street. As they passed Wadrille Drive, the uncouth roar of a car caused them to back away from the curb of the sidewalk, but the children paid no heed. Promptly, a speeding red Ferrari followed the sound, honking at the obstruction. The kids seemed to pause for a moment, as if wondering what the horn signified, until a couple of concerned mothers screamed for them to move. They shot off the street and back onto their respective driveways, staring in awe as the car zoomed past.

"It's been a while since we've seen one of those."

"The car, you mean?" Rhyla inquired. Ayden nodded. "Yeah, petrol's gotten so expensive because it all comes from up north," she reasoned, pointing to the sky as an apparent north. "Stupid for him to beep at the kids, though," she remarked about the driver of the Ferrari, and, almost as an afterthought, turned around and shoved her middle finger up in the air in the direction of the car's retreating bumper.

"Stop that," Ayden sighed, grinning like Rhyla, and grabbed her hand in his, holding her hand as they walked away from the scandalized mothers and amazed children. A couple of blocks later, they arrived at the Jordan residence.

"Oh, drat! I left my bike at your house!" Rhyla smacked herself on the forehead, huffing out a deep sigh.

"All the better. Gives you an excuse to come to my house," Ayden said, elbowing her playfully. She smiled, hugging him quickly as a goodbye before dashing up the steps to the house door, where her mother waited expectantly.

"You've gone and done it, haven't you?" Mrs. Jordan sighed.

"Done what?" Rhyla asked innocently.

"You two are dating." She said it as a fact, and smiled at her daughter with a knowing look. "Not a bad choice; he's a good boy. And no," she said, holding up a finger to keep Rhyla from speaking, "I won't try to stop you two from doing anything. You're sixteen, old enough to do what you know is right. Although, it is coming near that time, and whatever you do, you won't be around for the consequences." Mrs. Jordan winked subtly, and Rhyla buried her head in her hands, half-hysterically and half-regretfully.

"That's gross, Mom. For your information, I slept in the same bed as him last night, and he didn't do so much as to even try and take of any article of clothing. I'm not that hormonally crazed." And with that graceful assertion, Rhyla bounded up the stairs to her room.

After dinner that evening, Ayden came over to Rhyla's house on her bike to return it. They stepped into the cooling night air and sat on the two wicker chairs on the verandah. The conversation between them was sparse and awkward until Ayden made a remark about the many potted plants on the porch.

"They're nice…but why is that one empty?" He pointed toward the smallest flowerpot, which sat along the wall without greenery sprouting from the soil. Rhyla smiled sadly.

"It's mine. I planted it when I found out about the war. It's an iris, and hopefully I'll be able to see it bloom before…before…" She broke off and looked away, tears welling in her eyes. Ayden stood up from his chair and moved toward her to wrap his arms around her comfortingly. "I didn't want it to end like this. I wanted to do something with my life, y'know?" He nodded, burying his nose in the sweet scent of her hair. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, letting a tear slip out. "I always thought I'd be able to do something great, go to some American college and become…oh, I don't know, a doctor or something successful. And now, here we are, rotting away and just waiting to die here. You…you'll never be able to work for NASA like you wanted, and it's such a bloody waste of life. I mean, you're at the very top of our class, and you'd already gotten early admission to Carnegie Mellon! Don't you feel the slightest bit of anger, of hopelessness?"

She stopped abruptly as she felt a tear drip onto the side of her forehead and turned around, watching Ayden as he took several deep breaths and cleaned off his glasses, hastily wiping away tears. "I've thought about that too, but I think that I can live with that." He cringed mentally at the irony of the statement. "There's not long to go, and I'm just trying to make the best of it. We have to keep on living and doing all the things that we've wanted to do, even if we forget why we wanted to do them in the first place. When we've done everything, even without reason, there's no regret." With this, he knelt down slowly in front of Rhyla and brought his face close to hers. "And you wouldn't believe how long I've wanted to do this." He pressed his lips lightly to hers in a kiss.

Rhyla breathed out deeply after they parted, and she brushed her lips against his cheek. "Um…thank you," she said awkwardly, both their faces flaming.

"Er, yeah. I-I should be going now. Thanks for having me over." Rhyla watched his lanky figure retreating into the night and sighed, smiling.

"He's gotten braver," she whispered to nobody in particular, and, grabbing the white, perpetually-filled plastic watering can, bent down to water her potted iris bulb. "How can a flower bloom just over a day and night? You have to let the water drain in…" she sang softly as the drops of water mingled with her tears in the soil. "Come out pretty for me, okay?" she murmured to the empty pot, and, bidding it goodnight, stepped back into her house.