Chapter Text
It had been raining for several hours now.
Outside, the night street was lost in darkness, blurred by endless streams of water. Drops quietly drummed on the glass, merging into thin streaks that slowly slid down and disappeared somewhere on the windowsill. In the rare reflections of the streetlights, the rain seemed like a silvery curtain obscuring the world beyond.
The wind occasionally stirred the tree branches, and their shadows glided across the wet asphalt like dark rivers. Somewhere in the distance, a car hummed softly, but the sound quickly faded into the steady roar of the downpour.
The night seemed strangely quiet. As if the entire city had fallen asleep, leaving only the rain awake—endless and cold. It filled the living room with its measured whisper, creating a strange feeling of coziness and slight melancholy at the same time.
Asha sat on the couch with headphones on, scrolling through her Instagram feed while Jackie chattered non-stop in her ears.
"Can you believe Bibi ripped the curtains again!" the girl replied indignantly, to which she was barked in response. "I thought only cats ripped curtains. That's why I got you here, and now you're setting me up like this!" the girl said sweetly, clearly cuddling her pet.
"What a naughty girl," Asha laughed, resting her cheek on her fist. "At least it doesn't bite you?"
"Yeah, right!" Jackie replied, her voice infuriating again. "I think the only one who she doesn't bite is you and Mom. I'm going to run out of band-aids soon!"
"Don't be dramatic," Asha smiled, rolling her eyes, though Jackie couldn't see it. "Her teeth aren't even sharp."
“You always take her side...” Jackie said plaintively, and for a second Asha can almost see her pouting into the phone, Bibi tucked under one arm like some fluffy little criminal. Then Jackie’s tone brightens at once, as if the complaint has never happened. “Anyway, she looks adorable right now, so I forgive her. She’s chewing on the corner of my notebook, but it’s fine. I didn’t want to do that homework anyway.”
Asha lets out a soft laugh and sinks deeper into the couch. The living room is dim except for the bluish glow of her phone, the rain painting the window in restless lines. Jackie’s voice, warm and quick and familiar through the headphones, makes the whole apartment feel less empty.
“You should probably stop her or you'll get it from the teacher,” Asha says.
“My teacher should be grateful to receive art.”
“Bibi’s dental impression is not art.”
“You really don’t understand genius.” Jackie rustles around on her end, then giggles. “Okay, wait. She’s looking at me like she knows we’re talking about her.”
Asha smiles before she can help it. “Because you always talk too loud.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
There is a wounded gasp, exaggerated and bright. “Wow. Betrayed by my own best friend.”
Asha laughs, a little louder this time, and pulls one knee up onto the couch.
“You’re impossible,” she says, but there is no bite in it.
“I’m lovable,” Jackie corrects. “There’s a difference.”
“Debatable.”
“Rude.” Jackie pauses, and Asha hears the soft thump of something being moved, probably Bibi being rescued from another notebook corner. “So, about tomorrow. You’re still coming, right?”
Asha’s thumb stops on the screen. The rain keeps sliding down the glass in silver threads.
“To your place?”
“Yes, to my place,” Jackie says, as if there could be any other place in the universe. “Sleepover. Me, you, Kirsty, and El. Movies, snacks, possibly saving my homework from my dog. A very important event.”
Asha smiles down at her phone, even though Jackie still cannot see it. The idea sits warm in her chest. Jackie’s room, the four of them crowded together, laughing and gossiping.
“Yeah,” Asha says softly. “I’ll be there.”
For a heartbeat Jackie is quiet, and then she makes a sound so pleased that Asha has to pull the phone a little farther from her ear.
“I knew it!” Jackie says. “I mean, I hoped it, obviously. But I knew it.”
Asha laughs, looking toward the window. Rain blurs the streetlights until they look soft and far away. “You asked like I was going to abandon you.”
“You might have. People are cruel. They make plans. They cancel plans. They leave me alone with a notebook-eating dog.”
“Poor you.”
“Exactly.” Jackie’s voice goes gentle beneath the joking. “I’m really glad you’re coming, Ash.”
The warmth in Asha’s chest grows a little stronger. She curls her fingers around the edge of her sleeve and smiles at nothing, at the dark room and the silver rain and Jackie’s happiness pouring through her headphones like light.
“Me too,” she says. “I missed you guys.”
“We missed you too. Even Bibi. She just expressed it through violence.”
Asha snorts softly. “Tell her I said goodnight. And don’t let her eat your homework.”
“I’ll try, but she’s very persuasive.”
There is another rustle, then Jackie sighs. “Okay, I should go before Mom comes in and asks why I’m still awake.”
“Goodnight, Jackie.”
“Goodnight, Asha. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
The call ends, leaving only rain in her ears.