Catching Rainbows

18

I was jerked out of a sound sleep that night by Hailie screaming. I stepped into a pair of jogging shorts as fast as I could and ran downstairs, flipping on her light. My heart continued to pound even after I realized she was fine and not being kidnapped or murdered.

"Hailie!" I tried to say over the screaming, but she had her hands over her ears and was just going at it full force with her eyes screwed shut. I wrapped my arms around her, risking a punch in the face, and hugged her tightly. 

She paused to draw breath for another round and I used the brief silence to speak. "Stop, stop, I'm here, what happened?"

Luckily it brought her out of it. "I had a terrible nightmare and a horrible VILLAIN was chasing me!" She bearhugged me with her damp little body. 

"Okay, it was just a dream, you're okay. Wow, you had me scared half to death." I hadn't grabbed my phone and didn't know what time it was and it was disorienting.

My aunt appeared in the doorway, hair disheveled, makeup smeared around her bloodshot eyes, which were barely open. "Everything okay?"

"Just a bad dream," I said, and she nodded, hesitating, before I waved her away. She wasn't going to be any help in her present state. 

 "Well it was actually a terrible nightmare," Hailie corrected me. "And I'm sure I can't get back to sleep just now. I feel like I want to go out and look for snails."

I was momentarily baffled by this non sequitur. "It's the middle of the night. No snails right now, okay?"

"Well sure there are snails right now, actually, because they're nocturnal, and will be all over outside. And I read that almost all snails have the spiral on their shells on the right but SOME of them have it on the left and it's very rare but you can find them and I would like to find one now."

I'm not saying she reminded me of Veruca Salt demanding a golden goose in Willy Wonka's factory, but I'm not saying she didn't, either. 

She sat up. "It looks very dark out. We'll need flashlights. And maybe boots for if we step on one by accident. They're crunchy and squishy. Did you know it's by accident and not on accident? And do you know where my Minnie flashlight is? And some batteries because I think those ones in it are dead?" She pushed back the covers and swung her legs out of bed.

I gave up. She was clearly up for the next three hours. But this snail hunting shit! Hell no. I had to nip it in the bud. "Okay, we can get up, but unfortunately there's a skunk outside tonight so we can't go out there." I braced myself for the meltdown to resume, but she took it in stride, amazingly enough. That was the gluten-free diet working for me right there. 

"Oh. Well that's disappointing but we don't want to get sprayed by a skunk. Did you know that tomato juice is not the best thing for being sprayed by a skunk? You can actually use that soap that's blue that's called Dawn and they use that for birds that get oil on them, too. Like when oil spills in the ocean and they get sticky and black because oil companies don't care about wildlife like seagulls. Do you think seagull is because it's like an eagle but at the sea?"

My mind tried to shy away from the nonstop chatter as I held her recently discarded pants up for her to step into, which she did. "Maybe so."

I followed her blurrily and got her set up on the couch with some chamomile/mint tea and Mickey on before going up to my room to get my phone. I knew by then it was only ten after eleven, and the night stretched endlessly out before me.

But then I saw my two missed texts.

When the implication struck, a thrill went through me. Damn! I ran to the window with my no-makeup-wearing dumb ass and sure enough, there was her car. But my face, oh God. I couldn't let her see me without makeup on yet. We could just talk on the phone. Yes. Good idea. That's exactly what I would tell her.

I texted her to come up instead.

I was more nervous than I had been back in school when I had to give an oral report in front of the class. I could count on one hand the adults who had seen me bare-faced. I wasn't that vain, just the purpley marks from acne were the worst.

As a teen I'd finally gotten to the point where I obsessed over makeup tutorials until I learned how to apply the perfect mask, even if it was a bit much for most people.

I barely looked like the same person without it, especially the eye makeup. This was such a dumb idea, what the hell was I thinking? I knew she wasn't shallow but maybe I kind of was; I didn't want her to think I was ugly.

She was coming up the ladder so I stepped out onto the roof to steady it for her, so grateful for the dark shadows and clouds obscuring the moon. I could just excuse myself and throw on a layer of concealer and foundation real quick.

But she had tear streaks on her face and I knew I wasn't going anywhere and also that she could see me just as well as I could her, so it was already too late.

Indeed, her sculpted eyebrows went up as she took my hand and stepped onto the roof. "Wow, you look so different," she said as she let go. I caught the faintest scent of fruity alcohol on her breath.

"You can run screaming, I'll understand," I quipped, half meaning it.

She leaned down to fix her sandal, but glanced up at me. Her hair was in a french braid, with a tiny butterfly barrette at the top. "Shut up, I mean good different, really pretty. Why do you even wear all the makeup?" She straightened. "I mean, not that it's so much or anything, you look really pretty with the makeup on too, of course; I'm not saying . . . " She made a face, smiling a little. "Okay, I'm done talking, I swear."

Those fucking cheekbones, God. I felt like I'd had some liquor myself, her words warming me all over inside as we moved to the chairs. "Thanks, but this kind of makes it necessary." I gestured to the scarring, my jaw clenching in embarrassment.

She looked closer, inches from me, and I felt my eyes widen at the proximity. "You can barely see anything," she offered, which may have been half true in the near-dark. She lowered herself into my chair. "I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this, I promise I won't keep doing it."

"Um, drop in any time you like, actually. Consider this your open invitation. Are you okay?" I asked, my face forgotten. Hers was in the shadows now, but the tear tracks were fresh in my mind.

She nodded. "It's just . . . everything. I'm just fucked," she said, shaking her head and picking at a cuticle. "Sorry, I had a wine cooler and I hardly ever drink, mainly because alcohol makes me cry." She attempted a smile. "I just wanted to see you. So I came here. I shouldn't have, it's late--"

"You should have. I want you here. Please don't be sad." I stepped back through my window to grab the box of kleenex from my night stand and then sat in the other chair, offering them.

She took a few and dried her eyes. "Thanks," she said, sniffling. "I like your shirt."

I looked down. GIRLS DO IT BETTER it said across my boobs. "It's funny and true," I said.

The corner of her mouth lifted. Some of the curls had sprung free of her braid and framed her face, and without thinking I brushed one off her forehead with one finger. She closed her eyes for a moment at the brief touch and I had the maddening urge to taste those lips. Jesus, what was I thinking? Take advantage while she was in a vulnerable state, great idea, Luna.

But she was the one who made the inches between us disappear, her lips pressing mine almost hesitantly, and for a few moments I was so surprised I didn't even return it. 

Then I put my hand on her face so she didn't stop and thumbed away the tears there. Oh my God, she had the softest full lips and tasted like peaches from the wine cooler. Fuck whatever that guy had on her, this right here was what mattered, this beautiful soft body and sweet heart whose soul already knew how to dance with mine. Was I dreaming right now?

All I knew for sure was that I already loved her a lot.