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I’m the violence in the pouring rain
I’m a hurricane
Come and fade me
Come and fade me
I’m a hurricane
_______
It rained the day she was born. Like really rained. It was the kind of torrential downpour that turned the whole sky a threateningly dark mix of indigo and grey.
Her Mother hadn’t planned for it. Hadn’t considered the impact that the weather would play on her child’s entrance into the world.
And she’d felt a lighthearted resentment towards this child, for deciding to push her way out at such an inconvenient time.
Because they’d sat in traffic.
Full of panic.
In the middle of a city-wide weather emergency.
“Leave it to baby number five,” her Mother had breathed through a contraction, hands gripping tightly to the cushions of the passenger seat. “To be born….during….a hurricane.”
“This hasn’t been classified as a hurricane yet, Carolyn-”
The glare she’d given her husband was enough to shut him up as she exhaled through the pressure of her contractions.
And she’d gripped the edges of the seat even tighter.
//
The same way Amelia does now, 18 years later.
Her fingers grip the edges of the seat, and her fingernails scratch over the fabric lightly, as she stares out the passenger side window.
It’s raining out. Not a downpour or anything. But steadily enough to trigger that feeling. That feeling that’s uncertain and nostalgic at the same time. Two practically opposite notions that crash together like the thunder that’s threatening the sky.
She hears Derek clear his throat, and her gaze snaps to his just in time.
Just in time for her to witness her brother’s eyes dart from her tightly-wound fingers to the road ahead as he drives.
She quickly moves her hands, on instinct. Burying them in her lap instead. There’s an overly-positive inflection to her brother’s tone as he speaks out into the space between them.
“I was nervous, too,” he laughs a bit under his breath, like he’s recalling a specific memory. “When I went away to school.”
“I’m not nervous.”
Disbelief flashes quickly across his face, but then he replaces it with something more soft. Like he’s deciding to give his younger sister the benefit of the doubt. Like he’s actually letting her have this one.
“Well, then….I’m impressed.”
Amelia rolls her eyes. And then she shivers involuntarily.
There’s something about being in an air-conditioned car, protected from the heat of the storm outside. It causes chills to rise through her body, despite it being the end of August. She turns in her seat, reaching towards the back of the car, to where all of her belongings are packed. Pulling out a crocheted blanket, she twists forward in her seat again and covers her bare legs with it.
She stares at the road ahead, finding patterns in the wet pavement, before she tentatively opens the conversation back up.
“Was Mom with you?” She utters the question, and she doesn’t let herself look in Derek’s direction. “Was Mom there to drop you off at college?”
It’s not until after she voices the question, that she realizes. Realizes that’s the thing that’s potentially been bothering her.
Derek sighs. And his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter.
“She was.”
Amelia nods.
This answer doesn’t surprise her. And it doesn’t hurt either. It’s mostly just numb acceptance at this point.
She finally turns to him, and she almost doesn’t recognize herself in her next question.
“It’s because I look like him, right?”
It’s the first time she’s comprehended it out loud. The weight of it hits her like a ton of bricks. The fact that it all comes back to that.
“Who?”
Amelia gives him an incredulous stare, her mouth forming in a tight line. It amplifies her refusal to feed into Derek’s decided lack of wit.
Because he knows what she’s asking.
And Derek knows that Amelia knows that.
Amelia refuses to blink. She lets her eyes become unfocused as she stubbornly holds her gaze.
Until Derek eventually nods, giving up.
“Amelia….” He sighs. “You look like me.” He turns briefly in her direction, like he’s hoping her stare will have faltered slightly at his explanation so far. But it hasn’t. She’s relentless sometimes.
He exhales a bit shakily before he continues, eyes shifting back to the road.
“You look like me….and you look like Dad, too.”
Amelia finally lets herself blink at that. Relief floods her dry eyes and her mind, too.
She turns back to the window, focusing instead on the world around them. Her eyes land on two particular raindrops against the window. And she smiles slightly as she watches them drop down towards the ledge. Like it’s a race to see which raindrop finishes first. Which raindrop will dip first into the crack of the window pane, where it’ll disappear forever.
//
It’s a game she played as a child, too.
She loved to watch the raindrops race against the plastic walls of her playhouse. In the quiet corner of her vast backyard.
It had rained on the day of her 6th birthday party. And Amelia had almost been glad for that.
Her Mother had talked it up the entire week.
“Saturday is Amy’s birthday!”
“Saturday is all about Amy!”
But it felt false to Amelia, even as a 6-year-old.
The forced element of the celebration. And the way her Mother had demanded her siblings participate, too.
But the party was cancelled. And Amelia instead found herself in her favorite place to be during a rainstorm. Surrounded by the yellow walls of her plastic playhouse.
Derek had found her that day. A smile playing at his lips as he ducked his wet head of hair into the window of her little hideaway.
“Whatcha thinkin about, Amy?”
//
“What are you thinking about?”
Amelia quickly shakes from her daze, abandoning the slight pride she’d just felt at her choice of raindrop winning the race against the car window.
She turns to Derek, and she even smiles a bit in his direction.
“I’m thinking about….starting over.”
“Starting over?!” Derek gives her one of his classic smiles. There’s an element of surprise to it, that lands in his eyes. But ultimately it’s laced with excitement, through and through. “Starting over is good.”
Amelia beams at him. It starts off small but she can feel the way it grows on her face. It’s the kind of grin that makes her cheeks dimple.
Derek shakes his head, laughing under his breath as he faces the road again.
“You know….no one wants you to start completely over, Amy.”
She raises her eyebrows at this, her grin transforming into more of a doubtful smirk at her brother’s words.
“Well I, for one, don’t want you to change.”
Amelia exhales a slight chuckle.
“I’ll try not to get rid of the good parts,” she mutters.
Derek is focused on the road in front of them, so all Amelia can really decipher, is his side profile. But she can see it. The hint of glassiness in his grey-blue orbs.
Silence falls between them, and Amelia feels a tightness form within her own throat. She attempts to clear it, tries to alleviate what the moment is turning out to be. But then Derek starts speaking again in a low tone, and the tightness spreads itself further.
“Dad would be so proud of you, you know.”
Amelia smiles tightly.
She only half believes that statement.
Because truthfully, she has no idea how she got here. How she managed to make it this far anyway. That realization hits her hard and fast and suddenly she doesn’t care that her eyes are stinging the same way Derek’s were a moment ago.
“I wish I remembered him better,” she admits, and her voice is notably thin.
Derek turns to her, his eyes filled with something Amelia can’t quite place.
“I feel like….” She continues, ignoring the way her voice wavers. “My idea of him comes from the pictures I’ve seen? If that makes sense? And I don’t have the actual memories anymore….I don’t….I wish I remembered what he was really like, you know? His voice, his mannerisms, everything-”
“I know what you mean.”
They exit the freeway, the car slowing at a stoplight as they enter the college town.
“You’re so like him in so many ways, Amelia.” Derek says it in a whispered tone, as they turn onto the main road. Like the comprehension is overwhelming to even him. “So….just like you said….don’t get rid of the good parts, okay?”
Amelia lets herself smile as she turns away from him, eyes scanning the surroundings of the town that will be her new home. The rain has died down significantly, and Amelia questions whether that’s an accurate observation, or if it’s just that they’re driving at a slower speed now.
“Okay,” she eventually responds.
//
“Are you okay?”
The question had come from Derek.
“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” Amelia had practically gasped upon slipping through the front door. She thought she’d been inconspicuous.
Derek stared at her expectantly.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, but she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering.
“It’s pouring out. Did you walk?” There’d been criticism in his voice.
“You’d be more upset if I said I drove, right?”
“Amy.”
“Derek.”
They’d been at a standoff. In the middle of the entryway. Both of them seemingly unphased by the mix of mud and water that tracked all over their Mother’s favorite area rug.
Derek sighed. And Amelia stared at the floor. Unable to make eye contact, too aware that her eyes were hinted red and full of haze.
“Why didn’t you call me for a ride?”
“I didn’t know you’d still be here.” Her reply sounded bitter. But maybe it had just been the tightness in her jaw, the pressure from fighting off the wet and the cold.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“You missed Dad’s birthday dinner.” Derek’s tone had been accusatory again.
“Dad missed it, too.”
“Amelia-”
She’d cut Derek off with a bizarrely edged laugh.
Their Dad’s birthday dinner. They’d celebrate every year as a family. They’d sit down and have dinner together. And Amelia ultimately despised it. Mostly because they’d started grouping it together with her own birthday celebration. Her birthday followed a week after their Dad’s. And it just served as another reminder. Another reason for displaced resentment.
Amelia bit down on her laugh, stunned. She’d be turning 16 the following week.
“Amelia.” He said it again, this time more cautionary.
She finally looked at him. And she could see genuine concern in his expression.
“Are you okay?” He asked for a second time.
All Amelia could do was nod.
“Are you on your way out?” She whispered the question.
And then it was Derek’s turn to nod.
“I just wanted to say goodbye before I took back off to school,” he explained. “And I wanted to tell you happy birthday.”
Amelia smirked coldly at him, and finally started moving towards the stairs.
“Bye, Derek.”
//
2 years later and they’ve yet to improve this part.
It’s a rushed goodbye. Like it usually is for them. They don’t do goodbyes very well. Maybe that had something to do with shared past experiences.
Derek helps her set up her dorm room and when there’s nothing left to do, a knowing shift occurs in the atmosphere.
He pulls his hands out of his pockets, and forces a smile on his face. And when he pulls her into a tight hug, it takes Amelia a moment to reciprocate the gesture.
But Derek just squeezes her tighter until she does.
“You’re going to love it here, Amy,” he mumbles, before pulling away.
And Amelia just nods. Not able to find her words.
Because they’re bad at goodbyes. Which Derek knows. So he lets her off the hook, backs out of the small room with one last glance in her direction.
And Amelia watches him go.
//
Amelia doesn’t love it here, right away.
She tries to. She really does.
She sits in the shared common areas and convinces herself that maybe she’ll step up and talk to someone today.
It’s strange. She’s an outgoing person. She could be the life of the party when she really wanted to. But, she sits now, textbooks open in front of her, glancing around the library at fellow students. And she feels worlds beyond them. She questions to herself how she can even feel years beyond people her own age.
And that’s the self-inquiry that ruins her plan. She gets way too inside her own head and it hinders any chance she has at trying today.
Instead she gets up, shoving her books into her bag and walking purposefully to the exit.
It’s when she reaches her dorm, that the rain starts. She can smell it first. The distinct way the air changes when it’s about to rain. It feels humid and thick and her skin starts to feel sticky before the cold front lightly passes over her, and it provides relief.
The sky gets dark and it starts to sprinkle, just as she climbs the steps of her building.
As she enters her room, a dark cloud of restlessness storms her mind. Because she doesn’t know what her next move is. What her plan is for the rest of the day.
She looks around the small room, eyes catching on a piece of paper that’s been slipped under her door.
She picks it up, and when she reads the words on the flyer, she wants to laugh to herself. Because it simply lists an address for a party later tonight. And she’s laughing because, is this really how college works?
She decides there’s no way she’s going to the party.
//
After 2 hours of staring at the ugly off-white paneling of her dorm room ceiling, Amelia sits up in bed.
Because there’s a hint of it. A fleeting thought. A question that flashes through her mind almost too quickly to even divulge in.
But it’s there. The question of ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’
It’s enough to make her get out of bed. Which is confusing, to say the least. Because she hadn’t anticipated spending her evening this way. But now she’s pulling open her dresser drawers, trying to find something to wear. And she’s glancing at herself in the mirror, reaching for her makeup bag at the same time.
The last thing she remembers thinking, when she exits her dorm room is, what’s the worst that could happen?
//
The worst that could happen, happens almost right away.
It takes place in the form of ‘jungle juice.’
“It’s called jungle juice!”
Amelia stares blankly at the frat boy in front of her. She’s standing way too close to the bouncing speakers and the music is way too loud.
“What?!”
“Jungle juice!” He yells again, “Basically everyone brings a fifth of something and it all gets poured in there! It’s disgusting, but it makes for a dangerous concoction! Want me to grab you a cup?”
Amelia shakes her head. She doesn’t know what she was thinking.
Well, that’s not entirely true. She was thinking that she had to at least try. Give a shot at relating to people her age.
She surveys the boy in front of her. He’s attractive. Jet black hair, green eyes and even a slightly alternative vibe to him. It surprises Amelia, considering she’s in a frat house. He seems unexpected. And maybe her type. She’d probably go for him, if she wasn’t currently so inside her own head about it.
She feels her nails dig lightly into the palms of her hands as she drops her arms to the side, and she immediately catches herself. She exhales, trying to relax.
“I’ll grab something else, probably!” she yells back to the boy patiently standing in front of her.
Patiently, she thinks. Because she’s already a step ahead of him, labeling him, and she knows she’s someone that requires patience in events like these.
She shifts her eyes away from him, instead looking to the tiny window in the corner of the crowded room. It’s raining outside. Drops of condensation race against the glass in a familiar motion.
A feeling swells in her chest that’s hard to ignore. There’s a strong desire to escape her current environment and it practically makes her want to crawl out of her skin.
“I’m not supposed to be here!” She shouts over the music, turning back to the conversation.
“Huh?!”
“It’s raining!” She’s an octave louder this time.
“Yeah! It’s good we’re inside, right?!”
Amelia shakes her head, stepping away. Ignoring the confusion on the boy’s face, she turns on her heels, pushing through the crowd until she can find an exit. When she finally makes it out onto the less crowded porch, she lets out a huge exhale.
She keeps waking. The sun is setting, and the impending storm makes the sky a glorious shade of violet.
The rain pelts her skin as she walks hastily through the campus and although it provides relief, there’s also a sense of something else. It’s almost yearning. Or maybe homesickness. But it doesn’t make sense, because she’s never craved home before.
She thinks she’s crying. She can’t really tell. It’s hard to separate the rain from any potential saltiness that threatens her cheeks. The only thing that gives her away is her labored breathing.
She’s overwhelmed. And for once in her life she wishes Derek were here. He’d know the right thing to say.
Her thoughts are interrupted when a figure passes her on her left. It’s sudden. She doesn’t anticipate it and she doesn’t hear anyone approach, mostly because her thoughts are so loud and there’s thunder starting to rumble through the sky.
“Fuck,” she gasps, hand clutching her chest as the stranger passes her.
He’s running, but he slows his jog after she voices her alarm.
He turns around, taking in Amelia’s startled expression.
“Oh, sorry!” His own surprised guise shifts quickly to one of concern, though.
“Are you okay?” He asks, voice raised to compensate for the rain as he calls out to her.
Amelia nods.
“You just scared me, is all,” she shrugs.
He looks her up and down, but Amelia doesn’t even feel scrutinized by it.
He steps towards her. And Amelia finds her voice.
“Out for a run?” She’s surprised by her own curiosity.
He shakes his head as he approaches. “I was walking back from the library,” he points to the sky, in an obvious gesture. “And then it started raining….and I started running….”
Amelia feels a smile break across her face, the dimpled kind. Because there’s something about the way he looks up at the sky while he explains himself, that amuses her.
He turns to her, and he has a wide grin on his face as he catches his breath from running. Not wide in the way that he’s smiling hugely, or anything. But Amelia can tell that his typical smile just happens to stretch that far. It makes her own smile further.
“You heading to north hall?”
Amelia nods.
“I live there, too!” He exclaims. “Food sucks but we have the biggest closets out of all the dorms on the entire campus.”
Amelia raises her eyebrows at this.
“Am I….bothering you?” His grin quickly fades. “God, I didn’t mean to just start….walking with you. Sorry, shit. You must think I’m some sort of-”
“You can walk with me,” she bites down on another smile. Because it’s the most she’s smiled in weeks and it feels foreign to her. “It’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” she peeks sideways at him. “As long as we don’t have to start running,” she adds with a laugh.
His smile returns. And they keep waking. The rain starts to die down a bit, but Amelia questions whether she’s imagined that. She can see the rain. And maybe she can hear it, too. But she can’t really feel it. Her focus has shifted.
“I’m Amelia, by the way.”
“Amelia?” He repeats her name, and there’s a spark of interest in his inflection, like he’s really doing his best to store that information.
She nods.
They reach north hall. The rain has come to a complete halt, and Amelia thinks it would almost feel sunny, if the sun hadn’t already set.
“It’s nice to meet you, Amelia. I’m Link.”
//