Saving Rain

by Kelsey Kingsley

Later, she asked, “When you were a kid, what did you dream your life would be?” I told her very plainly, albeit depressingly, “I didn’t dream of anything. I just hoped my grandparents would live forever, but they didn’t.” A wave of melancholy washed over her as she slowly popped a piece of grilled chicken into her mouth. Then, she asked, “Okay, one more for now. Who was your best friend, growing up?” And I answered simply, “Billy.” That startled her, and I bit back the urge to confirm that, yes, I had inadvertently killed my best friend. “I’m so sorry,” she said instead of saying the obvious, and I appreciated her response so much more. Nobody had ever been sorry before. Nobody ever was for the villain. “Okay, my turn.” I rubbed my hands together, determined to make this at least somewhat interesting. “Um … so, why did you move to River Canyon?” The steady connection of her green eyes was suddenly broken as she dropped her gaze to the plates of stuffed mushrooms and crab cakes. The hard, heavy swallows, shifting the muscles in her throat, told me I had made a mistake by asking. She clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and I made the safe assumption that it had something to do with Seth and his pals over in our old stomping grounds. “The same reason as you,” she finally replied after a few long moments of silence, bringing her gaze, now shrouded in pain and sadness, back to mine. “A fresh start.”