Rain On Me

Dec 10, 2007

Rain On Me
By Loretta C. Jacobs


The last time I saw him, it was raining. Or maybe snowing. I don’t remember. He dropped me off after we saw a movie. I can’t recall which movie. It was a horror— or a drama. One of the two.

Before the movie, we went out to dinner. He talked about college.

“So far I’ve gotten into 3 out of 3 schools that replied. The other 12 are going to take a lot longer. I have an interview this week for Cornell (or maybe he said Princeton, it slipped my memory). I probably won’t get in there.”

But the truth was, he would get in there. I never found out where he ended up going, but I’m certain he was accepted into every school he applied to. He was smart, and he knew it. He liked to fish for compliments sometimes. He was cocky, real cocky.

A pang of jealousy struck somewhere inside my chest. Just then, the waitress walked over to our table.

“Miss?” She was looking at me. “Do you need more time?”

He was staring at me strangely. “How about you just get what I’m having?” I shrugged and he nodded to the waitress.

“Alright, I’ll be back with your drinks.” She took our menus and strode off.

“So anyway,” he continued, “I’m not sure if I want to keep playing basketball in college. If I do, I might get some money. But then I have to play well to keep the scholarship, which would suck.”

I wondered why it would suck so much to play well. After all, it wasn’t like he had to work hard to be the star of the basketball team. He was a natural athlete.

“Then again, I guess I could get an academic scholarship just as easily. And doing academic stuff is kind of inevitable, so that might be less annoying.”

I told him that I understood, and he would do great. Then our drinks came. I sipped my coke slowly, looking over his shoulder at a television displaying a baseball game. The Yankees were winning…sweet.

“What are you looking at?” He asked. I pointed to the T.V. and he turned to look.

“Shit. Why’d you show me that? You know how I feel about the Yankees.”

I grinned and apologized. He started telling me a story about the one Yankees game he ever attended. I listened with envy; I had never been to a Yankees game.

“We wore all our Mets shit. Dumb move. But it was fun. We were pretty close to the front and once a foul ball went to the people behind us so the camera zoomed in, and there we were on national television at a Yankees game with all this fucking Mets crap on! Oh, my god, it was awesome.” After that an awkward silence loomed about for a while. The radio was playing quietly. The silent baseball game on the television seemed to beat in tune with the song.


“Only love can make it rain; the way the beach is kissed by the sea; only love can make it rain, like the sweat of lovers playing in the fields.”


I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if he was wondering what I was thinking, too. He looked like he was deep in contemplation. He looked so cute. I wanted to reach over and pull him close to me and kiss him hard. I wondered if he ever thought I looked cute, or if he ever had an urge to grab me and kiss me.

The noise of his straw sucking at an empty glass interrupted my thoughts. I offered him some of my soda.

“Thanks, it’s okay though. I’ll just get a new one.” He saw the waitress nearby and called her over.

With his second soda came our dinner. I was disappointed to see an enormous hamburger on my plate. I hated hamburgers. But it was my own fault for not deciding for myself. I nibbled at the burger slowly and ate most of the fries. Or mashed potatoes. Either or.

After dinner, he asked if I wanted to see a movie. I said sure, and he asked which one. I told him I didn’t care, so he picked for us. We each paid for half the check and left the restaurant.

At the movie theater, I bought M&M’s. Actually, I think I bought snow caps. He had popcorn and a blue slushie. During the movie, I kept looking over at him and wishing he would put his arm around me. But I figured he might feel uncomfortable in public, and with the hard arm of the chair between us.

Something in the movie made him laugh. A very small chuckle. It was kind of restrained and high-pitched, and it came from the back of his throat. He grinned without opening his mouth. The smile was mostly in his eyes, which crinkled and made his greenish-brownish eyes glisten. The reflection of the movie danced in his pupils. My heart swelled.


“Only love can bring the rain that makes you yearn to the sky. Only love can bring the rain that falls like tears from on high.”


When we left the theater, it was pouring. Or snowing really hard. Maybe it was something in between. We ran to the car, but by the time we got there, we were both drenched. He got there ahead of me, being an athlete, and turned on the car. When I got in, the heat was on, but not yet warm. I inhaled the smell. It was a nice, cozy smell.

In front of my house, he put the car in park. I thought he might lean over to kiss me goodnight.

Instead he said, “We need to talk.” I looked at him.

“I think we should take a break,” he began, “we have become so distant recently, and I think both our feelings have faded.” I looked at my hands in my lap and cracked my knuckles.

“I’m really sorry, Baby,” he continued, “This can’t go on any longer. We’re both leaving next year anyway. It’s just easier to end it now.” I nodded, opened the car door, and stepped outside. As I walked back to the house, I heard the car door open and slam shut. Then I felt his hand grip my shoulder. I turned to him with tears in my eyes, though he couldn’t have distinguished them between the rain-snow wetting my hair and face.

“Please tell me you aren’t mad. I really don’t want to hurt you. This hurts me too.”

I tried to wrap my coat tighter around my torso, but only felt my soggy clothes sticking to my skin and weighing down my body.

“I love you, Baby. I’m sorry it has to be this way. But my love is fading quickly, and I can tell yours is too. Don’t think I don’t like you. You’re perfect. And you’re so beautiful.”

Something snapped and I leapt forward and threw my arms around his neck. I squeezed my eyes tightly and pressed my lips against his. I could taste the rain-snow between our tongues and smell the fragrance of after-shave on his face. Then I pulled away.


“On the dry and dusty road; the nights we spend apart alone. I need to get back home to cool, cool rain. I can't sleep and I lay and I think; the night is hot and black as ink; Oh God, I need a drink of cool, cool rain.”


Tears and precipitation blurred my view of him. I blinked them away to see him walking back to the car without looking back. I caught one last glimpse of him as he turned around in my driveway, his headlights gleaming in my face. We briefly caught each other’s stare. I tried to say I loved him with my eyes. Then I was out of the beam of the lights, and gazed after his car as it moved silently down the street. I knelt in the driveway and thought of weeping, or calling him. Then I stood and went inside my warm house and made hot chocolate, or maybe tea. And that was the last time I ever saw him.

lyrics from Reign O'er Me by The Who