Three Day Summer(54)

“Hey!” he yells.

I laugh and use my hand to direct his face back to mine.

I never knew how wonderful a little rough stubble could feel against my face.





chapter 62


Michael


The skies are not reflecting my feelings at all.

Joe Cocker killed it on “With a Little Help from My Friends,” but it’s almost like the intensity of his voice brought in the storm clouds.

The wind has picked up and is whipping our clothes and hair around us. When Cocker gets off the stage, an announcement is made to hold on tight as we sit out the rainstorm.

As if on cue, a huge rumble of thunder cracks the sky wide open and it is immediately pouring.

This isn’t like the rain of Friday night, or the short sprinkle of yesterday. This is an honest-to-God deluge. We are soaked in moments.

Some people are trying to find things to go under, but most just follow the instructions of the announcements and stay where they are. A chant of “No rain” starts among the crowd and ripples out amid the claps of thunder.

I look down at Cora and I know exactly where I want to go. “Will you come with me?” I ask, taking her hand.

“Of course,” she says. She doesn’t ask where.

I lead her through mud and grass in a sort of high-knee march as our feet keep getting sucked into the wet ground.

I take her to the lake. I want my memory back. Or I want to create a new one, an even better one now that she’s truly my girl.

The lake is almost completely empty, just beautiful symmetric ripples of water as the rain pounds into it. It almost looks like the water is falling up. It’s perfect.

I try to lead us in, but Cora tugs my arm back. “Michael,” she says gently. “Lightning storm. Electrocution?”

Oh. Right. I vaguely remember something about that from science class. That’s why the lake is empty.

God damn it.

Cora squeezes my hand. It squelches with all the water that’s between us. She smiles mischievously and then pulls me with her to an area by the side of the lake filled with short bushes and longer grass.

It feels like there is nobody there but us. The rain makes a curtain and I can’t see anything except her face.

I want to kiss it everywhere. I start with the corner of her huge brown eyes. Then her forehead and the spot where the crease between her eyebrows sometimes appears. I kiss the top of her head and the start of her silky wet hair. I taste the raindrops that are perched on her cheeks and chin.

Finally, I tilt up her face just a little so that I can get to her ripe, sweet mouth.

We kiss for minutes, hours, days. It’s still not enough. Sheets of water fall around us; it’s almost hard to tell where it ends and we begin. Our skin is slippery and soft, bursting the fat raindrops that stream down. It’s like every nerve ending in my body has come alive and it tingles with every drop and every touch of Cora’s skin.

Electrocution indeed.





chapter 63


Cora


I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at Filippini Pond the same way again.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at a thunderstorm the same way again.

Before Michael, all my previous make-out sessions have been semiprivate: in a car, or a barn, or a stolen corner of the hospital. I was never much for public displays of affection.

Now here I am, separated from half a million people by nothing more than a couple of scraggly bushes, and I find I don’t care if anyone’s looking. Maybe it’s because we’re also cloaked by the sheets of rain, and maybe it’s because I know that almost everyone here is feeling some of the same magic that I am. It’s in the air.

My lips are cold and numb and, eventually, one or the other of us comes up for air. I take a good look at both of us, completely soaked and wildly happy. I grin.

Eventually, we leave our little cove by the lake and emerge to rejoin the rest of the world. The stage is still empty and the hill that leads down to the stage has become even muddier than before.

We watch a group of kids around our age huddle at the top and then one brave girl gets on her belly and launches herself down the muddy hill, screaming “Woooooooo!” all the way. She makes it about halfway down before her momentum gives out. Then she rolls on her back, muddy from her head to her toes, and laughs. She sits up and yells, “You have to try it!” to her friends.

One of them follows her advice and launches himself down too.

I can see people looking up at them, laughing, and starting to climb up the hill to give it a go themselves.

We watch the beautiful madness for a while, hand in hand, as everyone starts to become one color. No gender. No race. Just back to dirt and water and laughter. Who knew that the secret to happiness was hidden in the soil of my hometown?

“I almost bought you something,” Michael leans down and whispers in my ear.

“Oh?” I ask, surprised.

He nods and then tells me about a vendor in the woods, describing a teardrop-shaped pendant to me. “It just reminded me of the lake and you in the water. The most beautiful image I’ve ever seen. I didn’t have enough cash, but I wanted to get it for you so badly. It was perfect.”

I smile at him. “I love it,” I say quietly.

“But I didn’t buy it!” he protests.