The Weight of Rain by Mariah Dietz Page A

King with the front door as he steps inside, dressed in a similar non-cold-weather outfit. “What’s up, dude? I didn’t know you were getting home tonight!”
    My neck snaps and my eyes stretch, replaying the word home.
    “Did you meet Lo?”
    “Yeah, we just met,” I reply instantly, keeping my attention on Kash. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Nice meeting you, King.”
    I grab my coat and bag from beside the door and barely notice the confusion on Kash’s face as I clear the deck to create some space.
    “Hey! Wait!”
    I feel entirely too warm as my steps slow down, and turn to see King clearing the bottom two steps with a practiced leap. Still, I yank on my coat because of course it’s raining again, and I know I will be freezing on the bus ride to my apartment if I’m soaking.
    “That came out wrong. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean I thought you had stalked me exactly…” His voice is wary, tinged with confusion.
    “Exactly?”
    “Well, it’s just weird that I come home and you’re babysitting my niece.”
    “That’s funny because I was just thinking how weird it is that you told me your name was Bentley.”
    His gaze moves to the side of me, weighing my words, and I realize I still haven’t objected to the fact that I’ve somehow stalked him.
    “I didn’t know you lived here.” I blurt the words louder and more forcefully than the others, making his eyes return to mine. “I barely remember you. Whatever happened happened, but I wasn’t looking for you. When someone told me about a babysitting job, the last thing I questioned was if I would see you here. That was what? Like three months ago? I didn’t plan to ever see you again.”
    His eyes narrow, reflecting a similar expression to the one I so often received from Mercedes that is finally becoming a shadow to the smiles she generally greets me with. “Good. I just wanted to make sure things were clear between us.”
    “Crystal.”
    “Perfect.”
    My lips press together and I nod. “Great.”
    “Wonderful.”
    “Terrific.”
    “This is amazing.” He shakes his head as he dips it low enough that his eyes disappear under the bill of his hat.
    My eyebrows cinch with confusion that quickly relents to awkwardness for standing here, watching him shake his head after accusing me of stalking him. I shake my head and without looking back to him, head down the long driveway that’s starting to darken with shadows.
    The soft echo of his feet crunching on the gravel meets my ears over my own footsteps. His are louder, and I know part of that is because he’s taking wider steps.
    They stop long before my trip to the bus station does.
     

     
    “I HAVE wine and donuts.” Charleigh pushes the door open with her foot and lifts two bags in the air to show me her treasures.
    “Wine first. I want my stomach empty.”
    Charleigh cracks a smile and deposits the bags on the counter before making her way over to where I’m slouched at my easel.
    “I thought things were getting better with Mercedes.”
    “They are.”
    “Then why are you in such a foul mood?”
    Usually the sound of Charleigh’s accent pulls my lips into a smile. Her sense of humor carries a warmth that I’ve become reliant on. But as she approaches me, all I can think is I want to be alone.
    “I found him.”
    “Who?” Charleigh’s brows furrow as she stops with several feet still separating us.
    “ Him ,” I say. “Bentley.”
    “Oh my God. What do you mean you found him ?”
    “I mean, I saw him today.”
    “What? Where? How? He remembered you … didn’t he?” I try to ignore how hopeful she sounds.
    “He thought I was stalking him.”
    Charleigh closes her eyes for a full second and then opens them wide , her long painted lashes becoming more pronounced as her eyes seem to stretch wider with shock. “He did not!”
    I press my lips together and nod, fighting a smirk that doesn’t feel appropriate for how terrible I still feel about everything that