Sneak Preview – 1st Chapter

Well, since it's been so long since my last post, I figured I'd better make it good.  Here it is folks, the first chapter of And Then It Rained: Lessons for Life.  It's all about the book today as the final manuscript is now off to my beta readers, keeping it on track for a late fall release date by Evolved Publishing.  Stay tuned for more excerpts, as well as some previews of other great books coming out through this publisher that may spark your interest as well! 

Chapter 1

Don't concentrate on weaknesses

But don't let strengths define

Dressed in our beach gear and armed with towels and sunscreen, my mom, my two younger sisters and I strolled through the main doors of "The Gym," as nearly all 20,000 residents of our Wisconsin hometown referred to it.  The building's iconic logo, a gigantic blue sun, hovered over us as we passed through.

The actual sun glimmered in the cerulean sky on this pleasant early-June day.  Good thing, since I planned to spend some time at the gym's expansive swimming area, tanning in a reclining chair, cooling off in one of the two huge pools, and catching up with friends.  The latter activity carried the greatest appeal; I always ran into someone familiar.

We scanned our membership cards at the oval front desk.  A number of people greeted us, including a few of my mom's coworkers—she worked two weeknights there—and a couple of her racquetball teammates with whom she played in a weekly league.  We stopped to chat for a bit.  

While we stood there, another friend of Mom's walked over—one who was both a coworker and a regular racquetball partner.

Marie asked how my sisters and I were doing.  The three of us answered enthusiastically—I liked Marie—and waited as she made her rounds to Mom and the rest of the group.  As we walked towards the pool area, she shouted, "Oh, and Maya should be out there too.  Make sure you say hi to her."

Maya.  I'd heard the name a number of times since her mom and mine had become friends a few months prior.  Marie talked about her daughter a lot, and Mom often shared many of her interesting stories.

According to Mom's accounts, Maya had a social life that surpassed most other fourteen-year-olds.  She attracted some desirable suitors—handsome, stellar athletes who, to the dismay of Maya's parents, were often a few years older.  She enjoyed a certain celebrity, especially among kids her age.

My connection to Abby Bingham, Maya's best friend, amplified my intrigue.  The previous April, Maya's parents had recommended Abby as a babysitter—at ten years old, I wasn't quite ready to take those reins myself.  We'd liked her a lot, and she'd become one of our regulars.

A part of that same high class circle as Maya, she proved interesting in her own right, but more importantly, she told my sisters and me stories about Maya.  Sometimes she gave details about their exploits together; sometimes she added anecdotes to stories I'd already heard through Marie.  All tolled, they made me want to meet Maya even more.

I hadn't yet seen her despite my countless trips to the gym, which Maya's family frequented, so Marie's suggestion struck me right away.  I pushed open the glass back door separating us from the pool area, and turned to Mom to ask what had become a routine question.

"Can you please show me who Maya is?"

She shook her head and huffed, "Yes, yes."  We stepped back out into the summer heat.  "If I see her, I will definitely point her out."

The swimming area contained two pools: one that restricted swimmers to those aged fourteen and above, and a family pool for members of all ages.  I scanned the crowd as we entered the family section and strolled over to a group of open lawn chairs.

After putting down my handful of items and taking off my cover-up, I looked around once more.  Mom looked around too.  Nothing.

I walked towards the pool and skimmed my foot across the top of the water, which caused a shiver.  Here goes….

"Megan!" Mom called out.  "She's over there in the blue and red swimsuit.  That's Maya."

Despite her medium height, Maya stood out among the group of people surrounding her in the 14-and-up area.  Her long curly hair flapped in the wind as she spoke.  She greeted each person who entered the conversation with a high-five or a wave, her dark eyes flickering in the sunlight each time she turned her attention to someone new.  She laughed often, accentuating dime-sized dimples on each cheek, undoubtedly in her element as the center of attention.

My sisters interrupted my concentration.  "Megan, aren't you going to come into the pool?"

"What?  Oh… yeah."  I shuffled towards them with a glance over my shoulder and jumped into the cold water.

A few minutes later, Maya had vanished.

Oh well.  At least I finally have a face to go with the name.

***

A couple weeks later, Maya's family moved to our neighborhood.

We'd lived on our cul-de-sac for three years, and had grown close with our neighbors.  We spent most weekend nights with at least one of the five families surrounding us.

My sisters, seven-year-old Kiley and five-year-old Eve, and I were particularly close to the Murphys next door.  Each of the three Murphy girls was within a year's age of me or my sisters—a near perfect fit.

Our parents got together mid-July to play volleyball at the gym, and they invited Maya's parents to join them.  Per usual, they brought us kids along.

We arrived at the three sand courts located just behind the pool area, and settled onto the one next to our parents.  I played with my young friends for an hour, but grew bored and turned my attention to the adult game.

I did a double-take.  Maya had joined.

She passed the ball from one player to another with ease, exercising much better form than the others, and scoring nearly every time someone set her up.  She also used an overhand serve, well beyond the rest of the group's abilities.

Wow, she's really good—a natural athlete.

The adults all "wow"-ed and cheered for her, which she accepted with a smile and shrug of the shoulders.  She praised their efforts in return, clapping and encouraging them even at missed attempts.

***

At one of my regular visits to the gym's pool in mid-August, the high school baseball team was throwing a huge party to celebrate the state championship they'd won a couple months earlier. I meandered through the mass of people, searching for a good spot to settle in, when an unexpected face appeared in front of me.

"Hi Megan!  How are you?"

My cheeks flushed.  Maya?  How does she know who I am?

"Um… I'm… I'm good."

"Great.  It's good to see you."  She smiled and turned back towards the crowd.

"You too," I barely peeped, though she'd already walked away.

Geez, Megan, you could've actually talked to her.  Nice first impression.  Not!

No one had captured my attention as an idol before.  Not even celebrities that my sister Kiley followed, such as Janet Jackson, sparked an interest.  My sixteen-year-old cousin, Natalie, who called me her little sister, offered plenty of guidance, but I'd never thought to mimic her actions.

Maya was different.  Everything about her screamed "ideal"—beauty, athletic ability, popularity, notable boyfriends, and most of all, that confidence.  She even had a golden retriever.

I'd been begging my parents to get a golden retriever for five years.

***

A week into my sixth-grade school year, Marie walked over to our house, a common occurrence since she'd moved into the neighborhood.  As was customary, she and Mom sat at the kitchen table and talked, allowing me to sit in and hear of Maya's exploits.

The latest prospect in Maya's social life was a seventeen-year-old football player.  Marie and her husband were concerned about the age difference, and had prohibited their fourteen-year-old daughter from dating him.  Maya hadn't listened though, and they'd been forced to ground her.

Marie shook her head and rolled her eyes.  "Just can't keep the guys away from her!"

***

Mom and Dad took me to most home football games that fall, where I split my time between sitting in the bleachers and walking around the concession area to meet up with friends.

Maya attended a mid-season contest, and stopped to ask how I was doing.

She seems so genuinely concerned.  I'm going to do that from now on.  I like the way she wears her turtlenecks too—not folded down.  I should wear mine like that.

***

During one of her usual visits in mid-October, Marie informed Mom that Maya and the senior boy were finished, though not before some notable events had transpired.  Apparently, he'd dropped to his hands and knees and begged her to stay with him.

Wow!  Someone so much older is that enthralled with Maya?  She has such prestige!

***

Winter arrived with me searching for more ways to be like my idol.

Maya greeted me warmly at a high school basketball game—so open and friendly.  She also adhered to her fashion trend-setting ways—leggings, a sweater, and "scrunch" socks.

I picked some up while shopping with Mom that weekend, and wore them to school the following Monday.

***

At the end of April, Maya and I both sang in our schools' choirs at an all-city concert.

I'd seen her only in passing the previous few months, mostly around the neighborhood.  I took care in preparing for the night, dressing in a special outfit and putting my hair up in a new style.

Tonight I'll get to see if all of my practicing to be like Maya has paid off.

My sixth-grade group entered the big high school gymnasium, and we took our places on the multiple sets of risers.  The choirs took turns singing their pieces, and still no sign of Maya.  I kept my eyes peeled while we all sang the last song, and again during our exit from the gym.

She finally appeared in the adjacent cafeteria, stylish and sophisticated in a short black dress, chatting with her family and friends.

I gazed down at my dress pants and blouse.

She wore just enough make-up to accent her natural features, and her curly hair, halfway pulled up into a toothed clip, highlighted the casual yet flawless look.

I gave myself another once over.  She's so much prettier than me.

Transfixed, I hadn't noticed Mom and Dad walk over to the group.  I ran to catch up, zigzagging my way through the mass of outstretched lunchroom tables.

Maya greeted us right away.

Act more outgoing, Megan.  "Hi."  Yeah, that's real outgoing!

Mom struck up a conversation with her and Marie.  I tried to come up with a way to join in, peering on as they smiled and nodded their heads.

I felt suddenly smaller.  Maya's so much cooler than me.  Can I ever be like her?

***

If you focus on obvious, external characteristics, whether negative or positive, you'll miss what makes you or someone else special.

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