Rain
Rain Black, Pink, and Nude {Ari POV}
The day started the same way it had for the past month, with Zee vanishing before breakfast and me wandering the campgrounds looking for her. It happened many times, too many to count, that it became routine.
Honestly, I hadn’t been trying that hard to find her lately since Zee always showed up by lunchtime anyway. She’d pop out of nowhere with stories of her latest adventures spilling from her mouth as she made herself a plate of food.
This trip was my uncle’s idea of “bonding” with my cousin Hana, who had just announced she was taking a gap year to gain some “life experience.” Honestly, I expected more pushback when she shared her decision. Instead, there was a surprising calm; I think everyone was quietly seeking peace after my aunt’s recent passing. For him, it was the perfect chance not only to take a true vacation, but also to ease into their new normal, just him and Hana.
The month we’ve spent here in Oregon, surrounded by towering trees, wildlife, fish, and even bugs, has been incredible. Somehow, the slow, quiet rhythm of this simple life settled perfectly with me.
On the second night after we arrived, he built us a fire, something we hadn’t done since middle school, back when our families used to camp together. As he stoked the flames, he told stories. We learned about our parents in their youth, all their reckless adventures and the ridiculous situations they’d gotten themselves into. He mimicked them so convincingly that by the end, we couldn’t help but believe they actually happened.
We rode the waves of emotion his stories brought, from happy to sad and everything in between. My favorites were those from before any of us kids existed. I found comfort in discovering those moments when they were ordinary humans, not parents.
We burned seasoned cedar and alder before dark and huddled around it every night once it got going. Beyond the stories, I loved the warm colors of golds, reds, and blues flickering against the many hues of the night. It was unlike anything I saw in daily life.
We all agreed the routine felt therapeutic.
The second-best part was the food. Night after night, Uncle Kevin proudly showcased his grilling skills, proving he truly knew his way around the grill and how to perfect a juicy steak. It seemed like his mission was to serve me the best tomahawk steaks I’d ever taste, leaving me eager to go home and rave about the many savory bites, all thanks to him.
My mind still lingered on last night’s meal, a juicy medium-rare ribeye with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies, as I approached a familiar row of cabins. Most had been empty for a week. Now that summer was winding down, only a few campers remained.
I knew not everyone would be happy to see a random teenager wandering near their site. To avoid suspicion, I made sure to draw attention to myself. I stomped around in exaggerated steps, swinging my water noodle like a flag. Better to seem odd than to be mistaken for a thief. In my mind, it was a choice between an earful of scolding and playing twenty questions with the police.
Our plan was supposed to help us avoid Seattle traffic and keep the trip under seven hours. Inching along the interstate was not how I wanted to spend the afternoon. I had a date with a bathtub that I fully intended to keep.
I was by a cluster of picnic tables, their wood bleached and weathered gray by sun and rain, running the water noodle I had brought lazily across the tops of some bushes when I suddenly heard my name. My eyes found Carl immediately. He stood out in his signature all-white exercise gear of shorts, trainers, a headband, and sweatbands, looking every bit the energetic figure he always was.
Naughtily, I called back, “Carl, don’t you just want to eat a sinful, decadent choc-chip muffin this morning? Skip the routine for one day?”
He seemed tickled. His face crinkled into a wide smile, his shoulder rising to his chin as he giggled. Then, in a mock-serious tone, he said, “And ruin this girlish figure?” His hand traveled up his right thigh to his hips and rested on his waist. His playful sass sent us both laughing.
“What’s with the water noodle?” He was curious to know.
I held up the noodle awkwardly. “Oh, this? It’s for Zee. Have you seen her?”
He cocked his head, winked, and let out a shrill laugh. “And you need that?” His lips pointed.
Heat rushed to my face, and I yanked my baseball cap lower, wishing I could vanish. I was about to slink off when Carl, still doubled over, held up a hand to stop me.
When he finally caught his breath, he said Zee had been strolling with a young man whose description matched no one I knew in camp.
He straightened, a mischievous smile on his lips. “I’d say he was handsome. Classic American.” He paused, then added, “Your generation would say he’s hot.”
Who was that?
“They were just wandering around, kicking stones as they walked toward the store, which we both know is way too early to be open.”
When Carl wiggled his eyebrows and threw me one of those meaningful side-eyes, I groaned inwardly. She had better not be in the pool canoodling with this mystery guy when I find her.
I glanced at the pool noodle in my hand and sighed. At least I came prepared to drag her out of land or water. No way was I taking a dip this early in the morning for Zee. If it came down to it, I’d call my uncle to do the roundup. If it gets to that point, then it will be a job for experienced hands.
Besides, I was no match for her physique. She had worked hard to build those long, lean muscles. Now that she had them, we were opposites at eighteen.
Zee had morphed into a stunning beauty, standing close to six feet with long, silky, dirty-blonde hair. Her fair skin made her cool gray eyes seem even icier.
I’d say I had grown somewhat attractive despite never getting past five feet four. Neither petite nor voluptuous, I hovered somewhere in between: medium olive skin that never burned, long, wavy dark hair, and soft features. My fiery amber eyes were my best asset.
My stomach grumbled, breaking my thoughts. I was starved enough to eat a horse. The breakfast I’d left behind called me back from the hot-boy drama I was trying to follow. Zee versus pancakes, sausages, ham, eggs, and coffee? Please.
I wished I could leave her behind with Uncle Kevin, but it was too much trauma for one person.
On any day, my vague description of a tall, long-haired blonde usually got me pointed in the right direction, but there weren’t enough people around to ask this early.
Aside from Carl, there was only Barb, a bubbly middle-aged camp employee, busy opening the store. I greeted her with more than my usual zeal. “Good morning, Barb! Have you seen Zee?”
A flicker of surprise crossed her face before it melted into her usual warm smile. She leaned in and hugged me tight, squeezing the frustration out of me.
“I thought you girls were heading out first thing. What are you still doing here?”
She didn’t wait for me to respond before adding, “Anyway, I saw her with Matthew. They passed by maybe ten minutes ago. That help?”
I furrowed my brows, searching my very light database of summer acquaintances from the past week, but came up with nothing.
“Matthew? We don’t know any Matthew.”
She scoffed. “You may not, but Zee does. He came in with his family yesterday. He’s yay high, has dark brown hair, golden eyes, and beautiful hands.” Her last observation came with a little titter of excitement, enough to make me arch a brow in curiosity.
She caught the look I gave her and, looking embarrassed, smoothed her uniform and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I saw them strolling toward the playground. You’ll probably find them there.”
Oh, they were close by. Finally, I was closing in on my wayward friend.
I was hot to trot, ready to resume my pursuit, when I felt Barb’s hand on my arm. “Grab a bottle of water before you go. It’s free.”
Grateful, I grabbed one from the fridge and held it up for Barb to see before nodding my thanks. The bottle was cold against my palm; the water noodle was warm from being dragged around all morning. I set off up the hill toward the playground, the sun peeking through the trees.
By the time I reached them, my shirt clung to my back, and my patience ran thin. Even seeing my friend did little to help my mood. Hunger gnawed, heat simmered, and I felt myself fraying at the edges. I was sour, sapped, and stewing.
“Girl!” I shouted as I thumped the ground with my water noodle. With determined strides and exaggerated huffs, I approached the two.
Matthew, I assumed that was the name of the tall guy she was kissing, and who lifted his gaze to me. I couldn’t hear him, but I knew he was alerting Zee to my presence.
He showed good judgment by putting some distance between them, then won me over completely when he pulled away from the kiss he’d been so enthusiastic about moments before.
Unfortunately, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, making his efforts pointless. She kept their lip-lock sealed.
Honestly, I would have found all this amusing and even laughed it off if we hadn’t planned a six-hour trip home that involved a ferry ride. If this little tryst delays us any further, we could miss it.
That thought pushed me to shove the water noodle, now hot in my hands, between their faces and place the half-empty water bottle into Zee’s hand, after I’d pried them off those gorgeous dark locks.
“Good morning, Matthew,” I said with a brief nod as I pulled my friend away from their awkward embrace. I could feel Zee smiling at him and waving goodbye without looking back.
“Say goodbye, Matthew,” I prompted her as I pulled her along.
“Goodbye, Matthew,” she echoed. After a few steps, she shouted, “You’re a great kisser!”
I dropped her arm and quickened my pace, determined to reunite with the breakfast waiting in the RV.
Back at the campsite, we found a calm Hana. Odd, but a welcome surprise. I could deal with one crazy person in a vehicle, not two. No amount of carbs or caffeine could prepare me for that.
I quickly made myself a plate, sat down, and wolfed down breakfast. While I finished the last bite of pancake and sausage, I watched Zee toss her food into a single plastic container, then go pack.
There was still time to finish my coffee, but I poured the rest into my travel mug instead. Out of habit, my eyes swept over the camp for anything we might’ve forgotten. I was almost done when Hana signaled we were ready to roll out.
Since Zee had little time to pack, I went to check on her progress, ready to help if needed. But when I asked, she said she needed only five more minutes.
Yay, impressive, I thought, until I saw what packing meant to Zee. Straight into her suitcase went shoes on top of dresses, then sprinkled with used underwear.
Ooh, I felt my breakfast come up. Sausage breath invaded my nose.
With trembling legs, I walked to my own neat pile, then hauled two bags into my cousin’s Cadillac Escalade. When I got down to my last two, I made the mistake of tossing the light pink shopping bag over my shoulder to adjust my cap.
The bag’s flimsy bottom gave out. My bras and panties fell to the floor in a heap of pink, black, and nude.
My eyes went wide. I looked down, then at Zee, who was grinning with a mischievous glint. She squealed in delight, and I knew what that meant.
Before I could bend over, she dropped to the floor like a kid in a candy store, scooped up fistfuls of my underwear, and danced with them held high above her head. When she finished dancing, she threw them up in the air.
Gauzy, strappy, and lacy rain came pouring down around us, landing on the stove, table, couch, mugs, and plates. My face went hot as I scrambled to gather them.
Zee was still cheering, spinning in the middle of it all, when Hana came to find us. The chaos made her back out of the RV, her index finger raised. It meant I was on my own. She wanted no part of it. She picked up my pink lacy thong and handed it to me.
Before I could speak, she cut me off. “Shh, shh, shh! I said I don’t want to know,” and left.
“Put those down!” I begged Zee as I dove for a black thong decorating the toaster.
Zee gasped in mock horror. “What, and deprive the world of this?” She held the thong against my body and eyed my bra. “Wow, 34C. Hot.”
I lunged for her, but she darted away at the last second, clutching my gauzy black bra.
Just then, we heard Uncle Kevin bellowing from outside, “You kids are still here?”
“You’re such a child,” I told Zee through my teeth.
She twirled a thong around her finger. “Honestly, these deserve to see action. 34C! Who would have known?”
I hissed at the shameless blonde goddess with all my might.
“Oh, hush. There, all done packing.” She tapped the bulging half-zipped suitcase, from which a single white sock stuck out like a white flag. “See? I’ve surrendered.”
I rolled my eyes at her as I stuffed the last bra into my bag.
After we finished loading up, Zee threw an arm around me and promised to make it up to me by driving me home from Hana’s.
“But you don’t have a license,” I said flatly.
“Details,” she giggled as we climbed into the vehicle.
Uncle Kevin waved us off, and I watched him grow smaller in the side mirror. For a while, I kept my eyes on him until he was too small to make out. I was grateful for many things, especially his stories of our childhood, the ones that had slipped from memory as we grew up.
Huh. I never thanked him for those or for taking me along. Not even for the steaks.
It was too soon to feel like crap, and yet I did. Still, I let the tires roll on, putting miles of asphalt behind us.
