Ok so here it goes:
(By the way I'm really freaked out about posting this - I've never shared anything I've written so publicly before - ok I have - but that was different kind of writing. This is my first time sharing anything YA related...In any case, this is scary).
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Wind whipped her face so heavily it
was hard to breathe – definitely a bad day to wear a dress. But something had
inspired her when she stepped into her closet this morning. Keeping her hands
close to her thighs trying to avoid having a Marilyn moment, she walked on the side
of the gravel road, listening thunder grumble and getting closer every time.
Great, she thought, now I’m heading into a storm for this boy. She wished
she had grabbed her raincoat, but the sky was perfectly clear when she left the
house. Midwestern weather.
He was supposed to calm down things like this. At least, before he
disappeared the last time, he’d told her something to that effect. If she was
crazy enough to agree to meet him in the middle of the Forest, he would have thought
to make it a little sunnier out - unless he was trying to get a glimpse under
her dress.
She came into the dead part of the Forest where he’d asked her to come. The
first time saw this place she thought it seemed broken and lonely. Loggers had
abandoned it, not bothering to clean up their destruction. There were piles of
dead trees everywhere and the ones still standing were stubbornly bare. As if
they refused to grow new life, even if they had the chance. There was something
hopeful here, though. Like she had the chance to make it beautiful just for
her. An unloved place waiting for her to cherish it, waiting for her to make it
all her own.
Just as she ran her hand up the bark of a birch, the rain came down in a
spattering. She hoped it wouldn’t pick up when she felt a jacket slide over her
shoulders. His arms folded her back against his chest and the wind diverted its
path around them, providing a quiet bubble in the middle of the storm. He
rested his chin on her shoulder and she pressed her cheek against his.
“You came,” he mumbled.
“I came.”
The rain fell heavier penetrating the calm space they’d been in. Her hair matted
to her face, “Can’t you make it stop?” she asked.
He let her go and she turned to face him. She pulled his jacket tighter
around her shoulders.
“I can push away the wind, I can will it to snow. I can force clouds away from
the sun. But thunderstorms – too much power there. I can’t stop the rain.”
He wiped raindrops from her cheeks with his thumbs and said, “Even if I could,
I don’t think I’d want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because rain is life. We feel it and remember that we’re still alive, or that
we can be reborn. It’s another chance.”
She looked up at the sky, colliding with the rain. She let it wash over her
and her new beautiful place, full of dead trees and the boy who commanded the
weather. Suddenly, the rain stopped. She wiped her eyes and opened them. He had
disappeared.
