Saving Rain

by Kelsey Kingsley

until the Tuesday when I turned thirty-one. My first birthday back in society and the ten-year anniversary of the day I’d been arrested. Harry had called to wish me a good one and asked if I’d like to come by that weekend for dinner at his place. I appreciated the sentiment, but I couldn’t say I was really in the mood to celebrate. Because all I could do was think about Billy. When I woke up, as I ate breakfast, and when I got dressed for work … I thought about Billy. And I continued to think about him on the brisk bike ride to work, and I continued thinking about him as I smacked my head against the Produce sign not once, but three times throughout the day. “You always duck,” Noah observed on the third hit as I rubbed my forehead and cursed under my breath. I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Huh?” “The sign.” He pointed at the damn thing, taunting me with its bright, colorful light. “You always duck.” “Yeah, I usually do,” I agreed with a sigh, resuming the push of the mop through a puddle of spilled apple juice. “So, why not today?” “Because it’s …” I stopped and leaned against the mop handle, deciding if I should be honest or not. But I always found it was usually better to tell the truth, so I said, “It’s not a great day for me.” “Oh.” Noah frowned. “Why not?” “Well, it’s my birthday, and—” Ray gasped, and I turned to see her standing near the pyramid of potatoes. “Wait. It’s your birthday?” Her mouth remained frozen in a wide O, like she should’ve realized this. I br...