The Weight of Rain Read Online Free Page B

perfect hue for the caps of the waves, right before they turn opaque as they hit the surf. Her lips are folded against her teeth as she stares at me. It’s not in wonderment. No, I’ve seen this look; she’s judging me. Mentally berating me, likely for being late and my appearance if I look half as bad as I feel.
    “Hi, you must be Mercedes. I’m Lauren.”
    Her small hand remains wrapped around the doorknob as she continues staring at me, and I turn to glance in the same direction to ensure there’s not something or someone behind me that’s holding her attention. There’s only the same looming trek of forest that I ran through to get here, though.
    “I’m really sorry I’m late. I kept getting turned around. Cedar Drive isn’t marked, so I thought this was just a driveway or a dead-end road.”
    “Are you from another planet?” Her voice is gravelly for being so young, but it’s her words that come as a surprise.
    My eyes widen in confusion and my head tilts. “Some days it feels like I am, but as far as I’m aware, no. Ten toes, ten fingers, one belly button.” I’m not sure where this explanation derives from, but I regret it instantly as I see her face contort with obvious repugnance.
    “Are your parents home?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject.
    “My mom’s dead.” I’m fairly certain my eyebrows are lost in the mass of curling wisps clinging to my forehead. There is no emotion behind her words; it’s simply a statement.
    “I’m sorry.” My voice is much softer, making my already quiet tone come out so low I’m not sure she can hear me.
    “Why?” Her eyes narrow again, but this time she looks like she’s angry rather than curious.
    I stare back at her in confusion for a moment and then shake my head ever so slightly. “Because you lost your mom.”
    She lifts her shoulders and focuses her eyes over my shoulder. “Shit happens. Right?”
    I leave her question unanswered, not sure if I should reprimand her for swearing when she’s all too right. Then her eyes come back to me, seeking validation, and I swallow though my mouth is still too dry from my run and the cold temperatures. “Shit happens,” I agree.
    Her eyes warm, stretching to their natural almond shape, and I see the corner of her lips twitch as she fights a smile. Mercedes takes a few steps back, her hand dropping from the door. “Do your friends call you Lauren?”
    I hesitantly step forward, trying to keep my eyes on her rather than the mess surrounding us. “Most of my friends call me Lo. But you can call me either.”
    “What? I’m not allowed to be your friend?” My eyes skirt from the large wad of laundry against the wall to Mercedes’ eyes that are narrowed once more.
    “No, call me Lo.”
    “No, you don’t want to be friends, no?” She fists her small hands and then slams them on her narrow hips.
    “That’s not what I meant. You’re welcome to call me Lo, or I’m cool with you calling me Lauren. It doesn’t matter. I’m still your babysitter, but I like the idea of us being friends.”
    “You’re my nanny.”
    My shoulders shrug and my eyebrows knit slightly before relaxing again. “Same difference.”
    “No. It’s not. I don’t need someone to babysit me. I can take care of myself.” She leans her chest toward me and raises her voice with each word.
    Thoughts of revenge against Kenzie are multiplying, not only for giving me shit for directions, but for setting me up with this miniature diva that’s trapped inside a ten-year-old’s body. “Look, I was hired to come and babysit. I ran for over forty minutes, and let me tell you, I hate running. My clothes are wet, my hair is—”
    “Your hair’s a mess.”
    My eyes narrow on her this time as my chin drops. “I know. Because I was running. For forty. Minutes . If you don’t want me here, say the words, and when your dad comes down, I’ll leave.”
    She rolls her green eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.”
    I shake my head and