Yea, it is odd. It’s always odd, isn’t it, when you find yourself doing something that goes against everything you stand for? I mean, here I am, thinking, wanting, hoping to be the good girl. I always wanted to be the good girl. Some girls like to be, well, bad, I guess, but that always scared me. Not that I always am the good girl. But that’s what I try to be, you know?

 So when you ask for help, of course I offer to help out. I don’t even think about it. Until I realize who you are and what it is I offer to help you with. Not because it is anything bad. Or wrong. Or illegal. But it is you and we’d be alone together and that is something I had promised myself wouldn’t happen.

Yet here we are, off to the store together because everyone had been stupid enough to forget the boxes we need to store all our stuff in. And really? As we are walking there I feel like I am committing a crime. It is a warm spring morning, the sun isn’t shining but it is warm enough to take off my coat. You didn’t even bring yours. You’re just your usual you and I feel like I’m someone completely different. I can hear myself talking loudly and I see you laugh and I do see my fingers poke you after you made that stupid comment that I forgot about within two seconds, but it’s not enough to make me feel like me. There’s someone in my body doing all those things, surely?

I get carried back to the first time I saw you as we enter the store. I don’t know why I’m remembering that now. It was just at a silly party that I didn’t even feel like. I hadn’t wanted to go; I was so tired and there would be so many people and people I didn’t know and meeting new people is all kinds of scary. But I went because the host was someone important to me, and then I was there and suddenly you came in and lightning struck and once again, everything had changed. The way you talked, the green color of your smile…

“Think this would be enough?” Your voice carries me back to the present. “Yes… sure, yes. I think so.” I stammer as I look at the pile of folded cardboard boxes you put on the table. Honestly I have no clue if it’s enough. “Okay. Guess we better head back then.” You say as you pick them up. It hits me that we’re all alone in this place but it doesn’t matter. You just want to get back. I’m only here to help you, so I pick up the remaining boxes and follow you out. I wait as you lock the door and that’s that, we’re heading back again.

It’s a horrible thing that I’m doing. Helping you. I shouldn’t. I had vowed I’d stay away from you because you endanger everything I have been working so hard for. My present. My future. So many others like you have come and gone and I won’t let you be just another mistake. And to accomplish that I have to stay away from you. It’s only fair. To you and to me and to that person precious to both of us. So what I am doing here is not really clear to me but I know we have to get back soon.

I’m so caught up in my thoughts I didn’t see the clouds until I heard the thunder. Wasn’t it sunny? Or was that just you? I remember that other time we met, before I had the decency to tell myself to stay away, when we were hanging out and it was a cold January night but to me it was summer and sparks of a warm twilight were everywhere. But not now. I look up and suddenly I realize everything is dark.

“I… Is there a storm coming?” I ask, uneasy. “Well, yea. That’s why we have to hurry. It’ll be pouring rain within ten minutes and we have to bring these boxes back or they’ll be soaked.” You answer as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. So that’s why you needed help. That’s why we had to hurry in the store. It all makes perfect sense now.

I think all of that as I’m getting nervous. Not that I mind rain. It’s just that I’m not a big fan of thunder and out there somewhere a thunderstorm is heading our way as I hear it rumbling in the distance again as the dark clouds get closer and closer. “We better hurry.” I say as I pick up the pace. How many more reasons do I need to get back as soon as possible?

And that’s when the rain hits us. You know how rain always starts softly and builds up? Well, that’s not how it goes. It’s just dry one instant and pouring the next. What are those skies trying to tell me? We start running, but it’s no good. Within two seconds we’re both soaked and the boxes have been reduced to some sticky substance that can’t possibly hold anything but water. I follow you as you dash into the entryway of a house where at least we’re dry. You throw the boxes out in the street where the rain quickly washes them away and you shout some profanities that I decide not to hear.

“It’s okay. We can get some later, right? There were more at the store.” I say in a feeble attempt to cheer you up or whatever. “Yea. Whatever. Those’ll get ruined, too. Man, this entire trip for nothing.” You say. Right. Great. I committed the biggest crime of the year and now it doesn’t even have a purpose, no matter how stupid of a reason it had in the first place.

So here we are, trapped in the entrance stairs of some old house while the ocean comes down outside and we see people getting washed away, cars drowning, cats swimming. “It’ll clear up soon.” I say, not sure who I’m trying to convince. “Probably.” “I just hope the thunder goes away.” I whisper as I hear a rumbling sound from the skies. “Why? Are you scared?” You ask, mildly amused. “Well, yea. I used to be so terrified… I kind of fried all our electric appliances as a kid because I left the power of the TV on during a thunderstorm as a kid. I was so scared… ever since I can’t really handle it. I mean, it got better over the years, but you know being outside does make it worse.”

I ramble on as if you’re even remotely interested in me. You already made clear that you aren’t. What the hell am I doing? “I’m not scared of lightning. Never have been. It’s kind of cool, really.” You answer as you look at the curtain of rain in front of us. Kind of cool? “I guess it is.” I answer, not knowing what else to say. There’s nothing else to say. I stare at your hands which are partially in your pockets. I once thought they are beautiful. I remember that moment, no matter how intoxicated I was with all that is you. But it doesn’t matter now. You’re the crime I can’t afford to commit.

I don’t know what happens first. The thunder, the lightning, or me finding myself shrieking in your arms. All I know is that the silence after came last. Everything was so light, so loud, so close, so far. For a split second I see myself as a little girl curled up behind the couch crying in fear because of the loud noise outside and the flashes that pierce everything.

And then, suddenly, I find my face on your chest and my heart raging and my hands holding your arms. I can’t move until I realize it’s not silent as I thought it was. It’s not silent at all. You’re there and I’m close and it’s not my heart I’m hearing. “If you’re not afraid of the lightning… Why is your heart beating so loud?” I whisper.

I don’t regret asking it, but I know I shouldn’t have the moment you don’t answer. All I know is that I shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t look up. Don’t do it. Don’t commit the crime. But you don’t say anything and I don’t know what else to do so I give in and step back a small bit and I look into your eyes and suddenly I know and you know and we both know and it’s too damn late. I can’t look away. You can’t look away. It’s that strange fuckup of time when you know words will only get in the way. Will break the spell that was just cast by something stronger than you. Bigger.

 So I was right. They all thought I was wrong and they were right and I hoped and prayed they were but they were wrong as always and I was right. I wish I wasn’t. Because in this instant I know that this is all there is to this spell. Here, this moment. Your eyes, my eyes and the faint memory of your raging heartbeat. I know that one thing I didn’t want to know. The one thing I had been dying to know. But it’s too late now. I know and it’s all ruined.

The rain is still pouring down like a wave of the ocean as you dash into it. I lose sight of you within moments. That’s it. That was it. The moment. The crime. Do you know? All the dreams I had, all the scary adventures in a world full of daydreams that I shouldn’t have? Was it as clear to you as it was to me? I won’t ask. I’ll never ask. It’s already too late and I vowed not to hurt you. So I’ll just wait for the rain to go, for the thunder to move away. I don’t know what’s next.