Rain (Hudson 1)

"Hey, it will relax you and you'll do better. Take my word for it."

He inched closer and brought his face so close to mine, we were nearly kissing.

I leaned back.

"I'd rather not," I said. "Is this why you brought me here? I thought we were really going to work on the play."

"I just want to get to know you better," he said. "Don't you want to get to know me?"

He put his left hand around my waist and urged me to lean into him. I resisted.

"Stop it, Corbette," I said putting my right palm against his chest. "I don't know what you expected, but I'm not here for anything but practicing our parts."

"We're supposed to be getting married in the play."

"So?" I asked.

"And Emily dies in childbirth. She has to get pregnant first," he said with a wide smile.

"I'll skip that part, thank you."

"You're tough."

"I'm not anything, Corbette, except

disappointed in you. Is this what happens with all the girls you bring here?"

"Most," he admitted without any shame.

"I'm not most," I said. I stood up. "Maybe you should just take me back and we'll leave practicing our lines for rehearsals at school."

"Hey, don't get so bitchy. I didn't mean anything bad," he said looking down. He tossed the plastic bag of pot under the sofa and looked repentant.

"I don't just jump into a boy's arms," I said. "I get to know people."

He looked up at me skeptically.

"I don't know what you think or have been told, but not everyone from my neighborhood is the same. People should judge each other as individuals and not as some stereotype," I lectured down at him. I felt the blood fill my face and the heat go into my eyes. He looked impressed.

"Boy, you can get mad," he said. "But you know what, you just get prettier."

It was something Roy had said to me often. I relaxed, but I didn't sit on the sofa again.

"I don't understand the way you live," I said gazing around again.

"Why?"

"How come you want to be away from your parents so much?" I asked.

He gazed up at me and then down at the floor.

"It's been hard in my house ever since my baby brother died of a blood disease," he said. "My mother keeps herself busy just so she doesn't have think about him. My father is the same way and I think when they do things with me, they're forced to remember and it hurts. It's easier for me to be alone and leave them alone. It doesn't stir up the grief."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said.

He sat back, looking as if he was about to cry. I sat next to him.

"How old was he when he died?"