Fool in the rain

Inspired by the Led Zeppelin song.

I tapped my feet continuously, my new pair of converse making a harmonious beat against the muddy sidewalk. Little dirty drops of water trickled down the shed of the grocer shop under which I took shelter in the monsoon downpour. It was one of those melodious rain, where everything seemed beautiful, and there was no thunder to give you goose bumps, or lightning bolts cracking the grey sky.

‘Where was he?’ I wondered. Maybe he forgot. After all, who would be so kind as to remember my mere existence and come see me just because I asked?

He is the first boy of our school, and also captain of the football team. He probably has a very inadequate closet, for he wears the same shirt to school every day. He walks with his eyes glued to the sky, which scares me a little, with his old black deflated bag hanging loosely over his left shoulder. His family owns a BMW, but still he walks to school. He is a strange person, unlike all the other first boys and jocks, with unusually mysterious and magical eyes, eyes that speak, that say so much.

The only similarity he has with the other ‘cool’ people is his temper, his red, hot and explosive-like-a-bomb temper. So it was not out of the blue when he hissed at me when I asked him if he could meet me. But it was absolutely gob smacking when he said yes, and asked me to meet him a few blocks down the road which led to our hostel, block B was what they called it.

Me? I was just an ugly back-bencher, with dark eyes and cropped hair. I was the example of failure, even though I never got anything other than a 100 in Maths. I was invisible, still am and always will be. My face will always remain hidden by my oh so favorite hoodie, the one which I also chose for our meeting.

I was there, 5pm sharp, just like he asked me to be, even in the pouring rain. But no signs of him. Another car splashed past me, as I dashed backwards. Everything seemed gloomy now. Maybe it was the fact that I just wanted to talk to him, not be his girlfriend. No, I did not want to dash off to a gruesome, sleazy club with him on a date, nor did I want to sneak around at school. All I wanted to do was…talk.

As the clock struck 6, I pulled the hood over my head and hit the road, feeling disappointed, hollow, and defeated. Lane after lane I passed, the rain hiding my tears, till I reached Block D. And look who’s

 standing there?

He was wearing his same old faded jeans and a red striped shirt which I did not see before, and was staring at the sky with an annoyed look plastered over his face. With baby steps, I walked over to him, when ‘His Majesty’ finally looked at me.

‘Where were you? Did you lose your way?’ He yelled.

I slowly nodded with a smile, ‘Yes.’

I was confused. Was he a fool, or was I? Or was it…the both of us?

Author's Note

The rain brings out the love in me:)...

Reviews

[Rebecca Buller]

Imaginative. Descriptive. 'His Majesty' the football captain is the epitome of every high school jock that we all loathed at one time or another. There are few things more beautiful than the pitter-patter of rain and this story made me cherish it even more. Thank you for sharing it with us.

[Poussiere D'Ange]

Thank you so much. It made me glad that you enjoyed this:-):-):-D.

[Eagle Cruagh]

A romantic character study.
A little mystery, some adventure and
a lot of love.
You have captured my imagination and
you have won my heart. This is an
inspiring, loving story.
Thank you
----- Eagle Cruagh

[Poussiere D'Ange]

Thanks so much Mr. Eagle Cruagh. It means a lot:-):-):-D.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very interesting story. I like the thoughts and the description. Made the situation feel real and alive. I like the surprise ending. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[Poussiere D'Ange]

Thank you so much Coyote:-):-):-D.